Sinking into an unrestful slumber, the small hours of the morning arrived, and a forgotten incident of the long ago was revived in a dream. The scene in vision occurred on a beautiful Sunday morning of spring, eleven years before. The location was a village on the old Ridge road in Niagara county, New York. The region was, and is, noted for its orchards of deciduous fruits. On this date the blossoms were out in full. Banks of pink and white embosomed the homesteads that lined the historic highway; sweet odors filled the air, and bevies of bees with droning song were industriously gathering the abundant nectar. Nothing could surpass the beauty of that quiet Lord's Day morning as the family, consisting of father, mother, older sister and younger brother, with the lad, wended its way to the brick church of the village. They habitually passed, on the outskirts of the same, the stone house of Col. N----, whose daughter's husband was absent in the West. The good lady taught in the Sunday school a class of boys who were from seven to ten years of age, and although they were possessed of irrepressible juvenile energy, and occasionally, to her distress, seemed to be irreverent; yet they regarded her with sincere respect and gave willing obedience. On the Saturday night, preceding this Sunday morning, a great burden of solicitude for the safety of her husband was suddenly pressed in upon her mind. To her imagination he seemed to be in extreme peril; perhaps he was unattended; he might be alone and facing a speedy and fatal termination. Possessing a strong faith in God, and believing his readiness to hear and answer prayer, at midnight she aroused from her bed and engaged in an irrepressible travail of soul for the far-away loved one. For several hours the burden of intercession continued. With the coming of the Sunday morning dawn, the light which made all nature bright and beautiful was suddenly duplicated in her heart. All at once the burden lifted. Instantaneously her being was filled with the sweet assurance that all was well with her husband; that whatever was his danger he was being saved therefrom. A tender gratitude possessed her heart. A sense of union with the mighty Jehovah suffused her being with a consciousness of strength and resource. Like Deborah of old a song of triumph arose in her soul. As the time of going to church approached, the above mentioned family came along, and, as was their custom, the teacher and her son, who was about the age of the writer, joined them on the way to the sanctuary. As the others were conversing by the way, the two boys ran on ahead and the one, having observed on the face of his teacher the marks of suffering, said to his chum, "Newton, what is the matter with your mamma?"