As to the bereft mother, for many hours they had little expectation of her surviving, but grief is strong and she recovered. Some faint hope of his ultimate discovery seemed to animate her heart in this season of agony. The father took an active and energetic part in the search that was made by the villagers. It was a trait in his character to conceal deep grief, which with him, in this case, seemed to lead to action, not despair or despondency. For weeks an investigation and search, led by himself, was followed up; but it proved without success. Those who have known the blank that follows the death of an idolized child--the uneasy void, the sense of desolation that will come when something beloved is missed at every turn--they can faintly guess how those unhappy parents pined as their faint and shadowy hope deferred from day to day till their hearts grew sick. With the mother, a removal from the scene of her late bereavement was tried, in order to discover whether change of place would rouse or cheer her. But alas! she was henceforth the same--a broken-hearted woman. The sympathy felt for her in the village was profound. As she appeared among them those who met her drew back to make way for her, and give her a softened greeting. Some shook her kindly by the hand, some stood uncovered as she glided by, and many cried, “God help you!” as she passed along. Months passed on, and still no tidings of Frank Winthrop cheered the ears of the villagers. Years, too, in their course, gradually rolled on, and many changes were witnessed in the settlement--the old died and were buried--new children were added to the colonists--the young began to approach the season of maturity--yet still the vanished one was seen not, and tidings of him were heard in that place no more. CHAPTER IV. I struck in a pathway half-worn o’er the sod By the feet that went up to the worship of God. * * * * * Such language as his I may never recall, But his theme was salvation, salvation to all-- And the souls of his hearers in ecstacy hung On the manna-like sweetness that fell from his tongue Not alone on the ear his wild eloquence stole; Enforced by each gesture, it sunk to the soul, Till it seemed that an angel had brightened the sod, And brought to each bosom a message from God. Mrs. Amelia Welby.