countenance which he had already observed more than once, and which had so greatly startled and puzzled him.

Day by day Claudia became more calm, and her manner more settled and composed. The sadly wild and wandering. expression which had so painfully marked her features when Alypius first met her, now seldom returned; and she began to occupy herself in various ways, and to assist Calanthe in many of her domestic avocations. Her gentle manner, and her grateful sense of the kindness which was shown to her, soon won the affection of Calanthe, and made her take a real pleasure in her society. As her health and spirits gradually returned, she also shewed such a cultivated mind, and so much energy of character, that Calanthe involuntarily looked up to her; while the exalted tone of Christian piety which pervaded all her conversation, and gave a colour to all her conduct, inspired her new friend with feelings very similar to those which she entertained for Monica.

The mother of Augustine saw with pleasure and with gratitude the growing friendship between Calanthe and the young Christian widow, on whom the former soon began to look as a daughter. Monica hoped much good would arise to her friend from such constant and familiar intercourse with so devoted a servant of Christ; and she looked on the entrance of Claudia into the family of Calanthe as an answer to her prayers, and a providential arrangement to supply her own loss, when she should be obliged to leave her, and to follow her prodigal son to Milan.

For this change of residence, and the long journey which it involved, Monica now began to prepare. There was much that

was trying to her in the prospect of leaving her home at Tagaste the home where she had passed all her married life— which, though often one of trial and sorrow, had yet been blessed by the ultimate success of her prayers and her efforts for her husband, and his sincere reception of the gospel of Jesus. Now she was ready to abandon that home, and to go bravely after her lost son, "resolutely," as he tells us in his well-known "Confessions," "following me, through piety, over land and sea, in all dangers confiding in Thee. For, in perils of the sea, she comforted even the very mariners, assuring them of a safe arrival, because Thou hadst in a dream assured her thereof."

CHAPTER IX.

ONICA arrived safely at Milan, and joined her wild and wandering, but always affectionate son. Great was her joy when he informed her that he had given up all connection with the sect of the Manichæans; for although she knew that he was not yet a Christian, the fact of his having abjured the pernicious doctrines of the Manichæans brought comfort to her heart, and added strength to her confidence that he would at length become all that she so ardently desired to see him.

Augustine had already become acquainted with Ambrose, the Bishop of Milan; and he even took delight in listening to his preaching; the eloquence and earnestness of which interested his intelligent mind, but had not yet touched his heart.

With this good man Monica soon formed an intimacy, which ripened into a sincere mutual friendship. So great was the bishop's admiration of her piety and virtue, that Augustine tells us, he often, in conversation with him, "burst forth with her praises, congratulating him that he had such a mother; not knowing what a son she had in him, who doubted of all things, and imagined the way of life could not be found out."

It was rather with sorrow than with surprise, that Monica found that the change in her son's opinions had not effected any material change in his mode of life. She well knew that

the heart must be renewed ere the life could become holy. Nevertheless, she hoped to lead him to forsake some of his evil associates and his evil habits, by drawing him into the society of those whose lives were respectable and virtuous; and, with this view, she prevailed on him to think seriously of entering on a married life. She soon brought about an acquaintance between him and a young maiden, who she felt assured would secure his affections; and her hopes were so far realized, that Augustine willingly contracted an engagement with the fair and amiable girl, who was captivated by the charm of his manner, and the grace and dignity of his form and features.

Junia knew not of all the falls, and all the struggles, and all the oft-repeated relapses into gross sin, of which Augustine had been the subject. She could not have realized a state of mind so tempest-tossed, so doubting, and often so despairing, as that which Augustine experienced, even while he appeared at times cheerful and happy, and gave every promise of securing to her a home of joy and peace and contentment, as his wife. The son of her revered friend, Monica, could not, she deemed, be otherwise than a good man, and a good husband.

For certain family reasons, it was decided that the marriage should not take place for two years. And, during that time, Monica hoped that her son would not only adopt a steady mode of life, but would also, by his brilliant talents, obtain the means of a comfortable subsistence for himself and his wife. But alas for all her hopes! A very short time had elapsed after his betrothal to Junia, when it was found that he had broken all his good resolutions, and fallen back into all his vicious ways. It seemed as if all his convictions, and even all his

efforts at reform, were utterly powerless, and that he were indeed a castaway!

The friends of Junia would no longer consent to her marriage with so abandoned and hopeless a character; and the poor girl could not conceal from herself the misery which must be her portion if she were united to one in whom no confidence could be placed. The engagement was therefore broken off; and in a short time Junia was removed from Milan.

This was a dark period in the life of Augustine. Sad and weary was his spirit; and, as he himself expresses it, he strove to still the eager craving of his soul, by greedily enjoying present things, and saying, "To-morrow I shall find the way."

Dark also was the lonely life of Monica. Nothing but the light of faith had she to cheer her in her sorrow and disappointment. She naturally shrank from society, and dwelt almost alone; for Augustine was fully engaged with his own pursuits and his own pleasures; and prayers and tears were again his devoted mother's portion, and her only solace.

It was therefore with something like joy that she one day beheld Alypius enter her humble dwelling, and produce a packet of letters from her friend Calanthe, and also from Claudia. These letters told her of the sincere conversion of Calanthe to Christianity, and her resolution to embrace the religion of Christ openly and publicly, as soon as Monica returned to Tagaste. This was indeed joyful news to Monica, and it not only gave her comfort for her friend, but it filled her with fresh hope for Augustine. The Lord had heard her prayers for Calanthe-would he not also listen to those which she so continually offered up for her beloved and only son!