seemed to be a little girl of about five years old. This, doubtless, might be a fancy only: she had not seen the face, only the figure; and when this dear little one--a peculiarly sweet and engaging child--actually sickened, and at last, after a long illness, died, at about this age, the mother did not dare take to herself the consolation it seemed likely to afford her, as a foreshadowing of her child’s beatified rest. On the contrary, the mother’s heart was distracted with doubts and fears.... There had been no direct communion with God, as far as man could judge, near the last; rather a certain fretfulness, a turning from God to man, a clinging to the mother as her all. The Christian’s heart was almost paralysed by the vast and unspeakable terror which took possession of her soul. Was her dear one indeed saved?... Although she thought all day long of this child,--I knew her at the time, and she seemed consumed by grief, fast breaking, though never was God’s house opened without her finding her way thither,--she had never once dreamt of her, or seen her in her dreams, much to her own surprise, and despite the constant craving of her aching heart. But at last, one night she dreamt, and thus: that she had risen from her bed, and was standing in her chamber; that the door softly opened, and her little one came and sat upon the threshold, sweetly smiling. ‘What, my own darling! (she thought she said,) are you come back again to me?’ ‘Yes, my mamma,’ replied the child. ‘And are you happy, dearest?’ ‘Yes, quite happy; but not for anything I have done,--only for the merit of my Lord.’ The mother advanced and embraced her child, and thus embracing she awoke. And now wonderfully was it borne in upon her that the midnight apparition of so many years ago and the child of her dream were one. Her dream was so real, that she could not but receive it as a divine intimation, a direct answer to her prayers. She now felt and believed that her dear one was in Paradise. For some weeks, despite her longings to renew the vision, she saw her child no more. Then she did so once again, in a dream. She was crossing a radiant garden, where she knew not; in its centre was a stately hall or cupola, and on the marble steps which led to it stood her sweet one, looking pure and blessed. The mother bounded towards her, when she espied, within the hall, at the further end of a corridor or long passage, the form of another child of hers still living! This sight terrified her; she shrieked out, and shrieking she awoke. That child lives still, and may it long be preserved to the mother’s prayers! But meanwhile, it is not a little remarkable, that during nearly three years which have elapsed, despite every effort on the mother’s part, she has never once dreamt of her darling! This is what contributes, with the vision of the radiant child at first, to impart a supernatural character to the whole transaction, and take these visitations out of the category of ordinary dreams.