Her past life used sometimes again to flash vividly before her, and at such times she would feel a strange sense of its emptiness and worthlessness. Suppose it were she who had been called upon to lie there, with death so very near! What sort of a record would she have to give of the talents and advantages entrusted to her. Great waves of humiliation and self-distrust would sweep over her, and she began to understand that there was only one thing worth having in all the world, and that was the life of the Lord within our own—the power to dwell in Him, as He has ever promised to dwell by the Spirit in us. And when that sudden illumination had come into Sheila’s heart, all else was forgotten—merged in the sudden blinding light. All bitterness, anger, selfishness, seemed to shrivel up to nothing, and she was even able to throw herself on her knees beside the bed on which Oscar lay, and to say from the bottom of her heart— “Thy will be done.” (_To be continued._) [Illustration] MY MOTHER. Eyes, in whose welling depths would I With wonder ofttimes gaze, And gazing smile, I scarce knew why, In those long-vanished days; Hand, that of old my pillow smoothed When fever burnt my brow, And all my infant sorrows soothed With love—where are ye now? Hushed is the voice whose accents soft Would cradle me to sleep; The eyes that lighted up so oft No longer laugh—nor weep; The hand, before whose touch so deft Sickness and care would flee, Is gone, and naught, alas! is left Save memory to me. G. K. M. [Illustration: “ALL MY INFANT SORROWS SOOTHED.”] FROM LONDON TO DAMASCUS. PART V. THE END OF OUR PILGRIMAGE. On the 4th of April we left Jerusalem for Hebron, travelling in an ancient vehicle driven by a merry bright-eyed youth, who at intervals would put his head under the hood of the carriage, and inquire, “Are you happy, O ladies?” On this journey we dispensed with the services of our dragoman, Miss B. kindly undertaking for us the distracting business of payments and bargaining, for the coinage of Palestine is as perplexing as its language. You can never be sure of the value of Turkish money in this country. Every village, though circulating the same coins, puts a different value on them; this is most embarrassing to the European. I do not remember meeting either a native or an English resident, who could give you off-hand the accurate cost of a few trifling purchases. Before you can get near it, mysterious calculations have to be worked out on paper; these must be illustrated by pieces of English, French and Turkish money, accompanied by such profuse explanations that you soon begin to doubt your own sanity. Lucky indeed is the English traveller who survives, and goes forth with a serene countenance, believing that he comprehends the system of accounts as practised in Palestine.