October was now far advanced. One evening — the evening of the last Sunday in the month — Mrs. Montgomery was lying in the parlour alone. Ellen had gone to bed some time before; and now, in the stillness of the Sabbath evening, the ticking of the clock was almost the only sound to be heard. The hands were rapidly approaching ten. Captain Montgomery was abroad; and he had been so — according to custom — or in bed, the whole day. The mother and daughter had had the Sabbath to themselves; and most quietly and sweetly it had passed. They had read together, prayed together, talked together a great deal; and the evening had been spent in singing hymns; but Mrs. Montgomery's strength failed here, and Ellen sang alone. _She_ was not soon weary. Hymn succeeded hymn, with fresh and varied pleasure; and her mother could not tire of listening. The sweet words, and the sweet airs — which were all old friends, and brought of themselves many a lesson of wisdom and consolation, by the mere force of association — needed not the recommendation of the clear childish voice in which they were sung, which was, of all things, the sweetest to Mrs. Montgomery's ear. She listened till she almost felt as if earth were left behind, and she and her child already standing within the walls of that city where sorrow and sighing shall be no more, and the tears shall be wiped from all eyes for ever. Ellen's next hymn, however, brought her back to earth again; but though her tears flowed freely while she heard it, all her causes of sorrow could not render them bitter. "God in Israel sows the seeds Of affliction, pain, and toil; These spring up and choke the weeds Which would else o'erspread the soil. Trials make the promise sweet — Trials give new life to prayer — Trials bring me to his feet, Lay me low, and keep me there." "It is so, indeed, dear Ellen," said Mrs. Montgomery, when she had finished — and holding the little singer to her breast — "I have always found it so. God is faithful. I have seen abundant cause to thank him for all the evils he has made me suffer heretofore, and I do not doubt it will be the same with this last and worst one. Let us glorify him in the fires, my daughter; and if earthly joys be stripped from us, and if we be torn from each other, let us cling the closer to him — he can, and he will, in that case, make up to us more than all we have lost."