“But, sir, to my tale. My father continued—‘Hearing that a confirmation is about to be held, we are anxious to put this our boy under the care of your Reverence, that he may be duly prepared. We think, from what his master, Mr. Bowman, says of him, that he is a good scholar, and well-informed in matters of religion; we know that he is a tolerably good boy at home,’ (here my father spoke with a half-smile on his face, as if unwilling to allow so much in my favour in my presence; and indeed, though much delighted, for I had never heard him say so much good of me before, I fear the effect was in some degree to feed my vanity:) ‘_generally speaking_,’ my father continued, with an emphasis on the phrase, ‘_generally speaking_ his conduct is very fair. But we know that you always wish to prepare the young of your own parish for confirmation; and so we have brought him to you that you may give us your advice as to what he is to do to prepare himself, and you may depend upon it that we will see that it is done.’ “‘Thank you, my good friend,’ said the Pastor, highly delighted, ‘thank you! You have done what all parents ought, but not more than I expected from you. I remember well, when I prepared you,—now forty years ago,—when I prepared _you_ for the same solemn rite, I remember I told you not to forget to bring up your children in the way they should go, and thankful to GOD am I, that the seed sown so long since has lived in your hearts, and has shot up at the proper time as fresh as if it had been sown last spring! Truly the seeds of grace are as immortal as the seeds of nature. See you that violet?’ said he, pointing to a little simple pansy that was bending its graceful flower close to the spot on which the old man stood,—‘look at it, and think, how came it there? Last autumn, this spot was covered with bog-earth, which had probably rested on this bleak and barren moor ever since the deluge. It was disturbed last year by the spade of the turf-getter, and now, this beautiful little flower has sprung up in this place! For ages and ages its seed must have remained embedded in this sour and barren bog; yet, once disturbed by the hand of man, it springs up fresh and lively, to show that GOD can keep alive what to the eye of man may seem to perish, and can deck with grace and beauty even the most unpromising spots of creation! So be it with Thy WORD,’ said he, looking devoutly upwards. Now, I had observed the pansy growing on the portions of heath which had been moved by the spade a thousand times, yet never till now did I think that such a moral could be drawn from so simple a fact. And, sir, I believe that there is _no_ fact, in nature or in art, from which a devout and observant mind may not learn similar lessons of devotion. I never see a violet now, that I do not think on Robert Walker, and the power of the grace of GOD.’