The mother had taken her watch, hung it on the pillow of the bed, and with streaming eyes, yet ceaseless prayer, they watched the slow finger move to 12 o'clock. At precisely twelve, all joined in prayer, lifting their hearts to God. _At fifteen minutes past twelve, the daughter opened her eyes_, saying, "Mother, _I feel better_," then sank into sleep, _breathing steadily_; after three hours awoke to consciousness and sat up in bed, and before night was able to walk the floor of her chamber. Prayer brought that life back, even when death had taken it. _At the very moment when that precious prayer was offered in the meeting, the Lord came and touched the dying one, and gave it new life._ The mother's faith and prayer was honored, and the Lord remembered his promise, "_If ye believe, ye shall see the glory of God."_ The same Lord who raised Lazarus and bade him come forth, also came and bade this precious life come back again to earth. SAVED FROM THE HANDS OF A DESPERADO. The following circumstance is communicated to us by a United States Surgeon: "After the close of the Mexican war, and in the year 1849, a train was sent out from San Antonio to establish military posts on the upper Rio Grande, particularly at El Paso. I was surgeon of the quartermaster's department, numbering about four hundred men. While the train was making up, the cholera prevailed in camp, for about six weeks, at first with terrible severity. On the 1st of June it had so far subsided that we took up the line of march. After about four days out from San Antonio, the health of the men became very good, and continued so through the whole route, with the exception of occasional cases of prostration from heat, and slight fevers, the Summer being unusually hot. One evening in July, after coming into camp, I received a call to see a man who had been taken sick on the march. I found him lying under his wagon. The wagon was loaded with bacon, in bulk about two tons. The heat with the pressure had caused it to drip freely. I asked him to come from under the wagon, that I might examine his case and prescribe, for him. This he refused to do; but demanded that I should crawl under the wagon to him, which I, of course, would not consent to do. No persuasion could induce him to change his position in the least. Becoming satisfied that he was not much, if at all sick, I left him. His profanity, threats and imprecations were fearful. Perhaps it would be well to give a short sketch of his life for the three years previous, as I learned it from men who knew him, and had been with him for considerable portion of that period. He went to Mexico, at the beginning of the war, a soldier in the regular army. When his term of service expired, he was discharged, and sought employment in the quartermaster's department, as a teamster. He had the reputation of being a thief, a robber and an assassin. In a few months he was ignominiously discharged from the service, and, at the