e east, a tuft of old, moss
grown willows, whose rugged bark disappeared beneath the climbing
branches of wild honeysuckle and harebells, formed a natural harbor;
and on their gnarled and enormous roots, covered with thick moss, were
seated a man and a woman, whose white hair, deep wrinkles, and bending
figures, announced extreme old age. And yet this woman had only lately
been young and beautiful, with long black hair overshadowing her pale
forehead. And yet this man had, a short time ago, been still in the
vigor of his age. From the spot where this man and woman were reposing,
could be seen the valley, the lake, the woods, and, soaring above the
woods, the blue summit of a high mountain, from behind which the sun was
about to rise. This picture, half veiled by the pale transparency of the
morning twilight, was pleasing, melancholy, and solemn.

"Oh, my sister!" said the old man to the woman, who was reposing with
him beneath the rustic arbor formed by the tuft of willow-trees; "oh,
my sister! how many times during the centuries in which the hand of the
Lord carried us onward, and, separated from each other, we traversed the
world from pole to pole--how many times we have witnessed this awakening
of nature with a sentiment of incurable grief!--Alas! it was but another
day of wandering--another useless day added to our life, since it
brought death no nearer!"

"But now what happiness, oh, my brother! since the Lord has had mercy on
us, and, with us, as with all other creatures, every returning day is a
step nearer to the grave. Glory to Him! yes, glory!"

"Glory to Him, my sister! for since yesterday, when we again met, I feel
that indescribable languor which announces the approach of death."

"Like you, my brother, I feel my strength, already shaken, passing away
in a sweet exhaustion. Doubtless, the term of our life approaches. The
wrath of the Lord is satisfied."

"Alas, my sister! doubtless also, the last of my doomed race, will, at
the same time, complete our redemption by his death; for the will of
heaven is manifest, that I can only be pardoned, when the last of
my family shall have disappeared from the face of the earth. To him,
holiest amongst the holiest--was reserved the favor of accomplishing
this end he who has done so much for the salvation of his brethren!"

"Oh, yes, my brother! he who has suffered so much, and without
complaining, drunk to the dregs the bitter cup of woe--he, the minister
of the L