rmony that dwells amongst us, you would glorify
God with the warmest feelings of gratitude, to whom, in your last hour,
you addressed such fervent prayers for our happiness.'" Thus did she
express herself; but O Wilhelm! who can do justice to her language? how
can cold and passionless words convey the heavenly expressions of the
spirit? Albert interrupted her gently. "This affects you too deeply,
my dear Charlotte. I know your soul dwells on such recollections with
intense delight; but I implore--" "O Albert!" she continued, "I am sure
you do not forget the evenings when we three used to sit at the little
round table, when papa was absent, and the little ones had retired. You
often had a good book with you, but seldom read it; the conversation of
that noble being was preferable to everything,--that beautiful,
bright, gentle, and yet ever-toiling woman. God alone knows how I have
supplicated with tears on my nightly couch, that I might be like her."

I threw myself at her feet, and, seizing her hand, bedewed it with
a thousand tears. "Charlotte!" I exclaimed, "God's blessing and your
mother's spirit are upon you." "Oh! that you had known her," she said,
with a warm pressure of the hand. "She was worthy of being known to
you." I thought I should have fainted: never had I received praise so
flattering. She continued, "And yet she was doomed to die in the flower
of her youth, when her youngest child was scarcely six months old. Her
illness was but short, but she was calm and resigned; and it was only
for her children, especially the youngest, that she felt unhappy. When
her end drew nigh, she bade me bring them to her. I obeyed. The younger
ones knew nothing of their approaching loss, while the elder ones were
quite overcome with grief. They stood around the bed; and she raised
her feeble hands to heaven, and prayed over them; then, kissing them in
turn, she dismissed them, and said to me, 'Be you a mother to them.'
I gave her my hand. 'You are promising much, my child,' she said: 'a
mother's fondness and a mother's care! I have often witnessed, by your
tears of gratitude, that you know what is a mother's tenderness: show it
to your brothers and sisters, and be dutiful and faithful to your
father as a wife; you will be his comfort.' She inquired for him. He
had retired to conceal his intolerable anguish,--he was heartbroken,
'Albert, you were in the room.' She heard some one moving: she inquired
who it was, and desired you t