and supported with the other a large and heavy box, which was also suspended from his neck by a broad strap of black leather. It struck me, as he drew near, that there was something very ingenuous in his appearance. He bowed respectfully when I addressed him; and in reply to my inquiry if he had been praising God and praying aloud behind that rock, he acknowledged, with a modest blush and in good English, that he had. Although the tone and language were different, the voice was the same as that which had proceeded from the chapel.

"Were you aware," said I, "that a remarkable echo existed in this place?"

"An echo, sir," replied the youth; "I do not know what it means."

I explained to him, in as few words as possible, the philosophy of sound, and the nature of an echo; and then inquired if he were really ignorant that such a thing existed there? He assured me that he was; and went on to say that he was comparatively a stranger to the place; for that, although he sometimes went to Oban to dispose of his wares, he had visited Dunstaffnage but once before; and that then he was alone, without any one to point out the curiosities of the neighbourhood, if there were any. "And how did you happen," said I, "to come here this evening?"

"As to that, sir," replied he, "I have no objection to own it. In the house where I slept last night, there was no opportunity for prayer and praise; and, as I was to pass this night at Connel ferry, I thought I might be again interrupted. So I

turned out of the road to seek a quiet nook, where unseen and unheard, as I thought, except by God himself, I might sing his praises and seek his face in prayer."

"And do you always use the Gaelic language in your devotions?"

"In general I do, sir. It is the language of my country and of my father's house; and when my piety is the warmest, it always finds vent in Gaelic."

There was so much good sense, as well as devotional feeling, in the young man's answers, that I felt desirous of knowing something more about him. Anxious, however, in the first place, to make another trial of the echo, I requested him to retire once more behind the rock, and to reply aloud to the questions I should put. He complied without a moment's hesitation; and, as soon as he disappeared, I commenced the dialogue as follows:

"What is your name?" "Norman Macleod," answered the voice, distinctly and audibly from the chapel.

"What is your business?"
"A travelling merchant."
"Where do you come from?"
"Oban."

"Where are you going?"
"To Ardnamurchan."

The illusion was complete. Every syllable of the replies issued as distinctly from the chapel as if the youth himself had been there. While I was musing on the influence such a phenomenon might have had on superstitious minds, and the uses to which it might have been put in the days of Popish delusion, the youth himself rejoined me; and willing that he should be sensible of the effect which his devotional exercises had had upon me, I told him that I should now retire behind the rock, and answer any questions he might put to me, when he would find that my voice would proceed not from the place where I was standing, but from the chapel.

"It would ill become me, sir," said the youth, in his usual modest manner, "to put questions to a gentleman like you; but if you will repeat a verse of scripture, it will come to the same thing."

I accordingly went behind the rock, and repeated the 25th and 26th verses of the eleventh chapter of St. John:-"Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die. Believest thou this?"

When I returned to the spot where I had left my new acquaintance, I found him with his mouth open, his eyes staring, and his hands folded upon his breast. Although conscious of the effect which the same phenomenon had produced upon myself, I could not help smiling at his astonishment; and addressing him in a gay tone, I said, "That is a curious thing, and in the days of Romish superstition might have been turned to some account."

"Yes, sir," replied the youth, solemnly; "and the days are not long gone by, when, if I had heard such a thing without previous warning, I should have fled from the spot with horror, and been haunted

all the rest of my life with imaginary terrors."

"And would it not have had the same effect now?"

"No, sir; I think not." "Why so?"

"Because, blessed be God, I know something of his grace as manifested in Christ Jesus; something of his holy word, and watchful care over his people; and I could not believe that he would allow the course of nature to be inverted, for the poor object of frightening a travelling merchant out of his wits."

"Well said, my good lad. But how long may it be since you thus became acquainted with the way of salvation?"

"About four years, sir. I was then but fifteen years old, and was the first of my father's house who saw the way of acceptance clearly. But, praised be God, he has called us all now. Some are in heaven already, and the rest I have cause to hope are on the way to it.

"And through what means, may I ask, was the salvation of your household brought about?"

"By means, sir, of a society which has been to the Highlands as rivers of water in a dry place, and pools in the desert; and which has been to me, and to many others, the power of God, and the wisdom of God unto salvation, - THE SOCIETY FOR THE SUPPORT OF GAELIC SCHOOLS.'"

"Indeed! I have heard of that society, and felt interested in its operations; its object was so simple, and so consonant with sound reason. The evening is fast closing in, and yet I should be glad to hear the little story of your family. Suppose we sit down on this green sward for half an hour, while you relate the particulars?"

"I cannot refuse your request, sir, without doing great injustice to a society to which I owe much, and dishonour to God to whom I owe everything. My family history is short; but, like most family histories, it contains much that is sad, as well as much that is joyous.

(To be continued.)

dew which covered the verdant fields, and rejoicing in that healthful glow of spirits which such habits were fitted to produce. The result of this was that he became industrious, successful, and respected in life.

But the other son was of a slothful and indolent disposition. He heeded not the wise counsel of his father. His mornings were wasted in slumber and in sloth. Never did he behold that lovely object, the rising sun, for his eyes were then closed in sleep; nor did he hear the sweet music of the morning lark, or enjoy

BY THE REV. A. GORDON, A.M. NO. II. THE FATHER AND HIS TWO SONS.

A CERTAIN man had two sons, in whose prosperity, as was proper, he felt a warm interest. "My sons," he was wont to say, "let no portion of your time pass unimproved; but, above all, let the morning be usefully employed. It is the best part of the day; it is cool, balmy, and healthful. Then are the spirits fresh, the energies vigorous; more work may be accomplished then, in one brief hour, than in many hours under the heat of the noonday sun." So counselled the sage old man.

One son heard his father's words, and obeyed. His mornings were sedulously improved. The early dawn was the constant signal for him to quit the bed of rest, and the golden beams of the solar orb, as they tinged the mountain tops, were his invitation to labour. While many slept, he was inhaling the fresh breath of morn, scattering, as he marched to his labour, the silver

air, for he was then in bed. Sloth brought its own punishment. His life was one of meanness and poverty. Without respect, disappointed, and miserable, he sunk at length into a dishonoured grave.

Young reader, learn from this brief history the importance of improving the morning of life. The value of that golden season who can duly estimate? The germ of future character is then, for the most part, implanted; habits are formed which develop themselves through life; and the die frequently cast for time and eternity. Youth is the best season for the acquisition of knowledge; and knowledge enlarges, invigorates, and ennobles the noblest faculty in our common nature-the human intellect. In early life the mind is free from the incubus of worldly care, from the distraction of worldly passions, and from many other impediments to the acquisition of truth. But youth is emphatically the season for the improvement of the heart. Our sensibilities are then