THE LOST CHILD.

A PERSON travelling in America describes a

sermon he heard in the following manner:

The preacher read the parable of the prodigal

son, and when he came to these words, 'and

when he saw him afar off, he ran, and fell upon

his neck, and kissed him,' he stopped. ' This,'

said he, ' is my text.' I had heard it preached

on a hundred times. I thought I could preach

a sermon on it myself ; but even his manner of

reading it told me he had discovered something

in this passage of scripture that was new to me.

He proceeded to illustrate the love which our

heavenly Father bears to his disobedient chil-

dren, from the affection manifested by parents

towards their offspring, in all circumstances, even

when disobedient and unnatural in their con-

duct; and the joy they experience when they

return to their duty. I felt that I had never

heard the subject handled in so interesting and

feeling a manner; and my reflections involun-

tarily took a retrospect of my early life, and I

taxed my memory for an unkind look, word, or

action, towards the dear authors of my being ; I

felt an assurance that those around me were

similarly engaged. There was a peculiar solem-

nity pervading the whole audience; some eyes

began to moisten ; I felt my own do so likewise.

' But,' says the preacher, * I will tell you a

story. In the year 1821, I was stationed in

Ohio. You know, my friends,' said he, ' there

are extensive woods in that part of the state. la

places there are no dwellings within miles of each

other ; and animals of prey are often seen there.

One evening, late in autumn, a few of the neigh-

bours were assembled around me in one of those

solitary dwellings, and we had got well engaged

in the worship of God, when it was announced

that the child of a widow was lost in the wood

It was cold, and the wind blew, and some rain

was falling. The poor woman was in agony,

and our meeting was broken up. All prepared

to go in search of the lost child ; the company

understood the business better than I did, for

they had been bred in these extensive barrens ;

and occurrences like the present are, probably,

not unfrequent among them. They equipped

themselves with lanterns and torches, for it was

quite dark, and tin horns to give signals to dif-

ferent parts of the company when they should

become widely separated. For my part, I

thought duty required that I should take charge

of the miserable woman ; she was nearly frantic,

and as time permitted her to view her widowed

and childless condition, and the circumstances of

the probable death of her child, her misery seem-

ed to double upon her. She took my arm ; the

company divided into parties ; and, taking dif-

ferent directions, we commenced the search.

The understanding was, that when the child

should be found, a certain wind of the horn

should be made, and that all who should hear it

should repeat the signal ; in this way all the

company would receive the information. The

prospect of finding a lost child in these extensive

forests would, at any time, be sufficiently dis-

couraging. The difficulty must be greatly

increased by a dark rainy night. "We travelled

many miles, and to a late hour ; at length we

became satisfied that further search would be

unavailing; and all but the mother determined

to return home. It was an idea she could not

for a moment endure. She would hear of no-

thing but further search. Her strength, at last,

began to fail her, and I prevailed on her to re-

turn to her abode. As she turned her face from

further search, and gave up her child as lost,

her misery was almost too great for endurance.

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