and soon we shall meet in
heaven to spend an eternity together. Charles, pray in this beautiful
place. O, those towering mountains apeak the majesty of their Creator."

"Ellen, dear, 'remember your Creator in the days of your youth;' and
oh Charles, pray that we all may meet in heaven."

He knelt and offered up the prayer of faith, but while he concluded,
there was a pressure of the hand he held in his, the white lips
parted, the head fell heavily upon his shoulder; there was a faint
whisper "Jesus, receive my spirit," and the mother was an Angel.

The boys were overcome with grief. Charles and Ellen too, were
awestruck.

He bore his lovely burden back to the house and wrapped her in the
habiliments of the grave.

It was a mournful day in autumn, when a sad procession bore her to her
last resting place, and laid her down by the side of her much lamented
brother. The appropriate text, "He that believeth on me shall never
die," comforted the grief-stricken mourners. She passed away early in
life, ere the sun of twenty-four summers had shone upon her pathway.

Charles mourned his loss, but not as one without hope. And as he
turned from the grave to his home and crushed the blighted leaves
of autumn beneath his feet, he felt that he too, was passing over
withered hopes back to the battle field of human life.

He cast one long, lingering glance upon Matilda's grave, then looked
fervently to heaven, and pressed on to "life and to duty with
undismayed heart."

Ellen soon returned to her grand-parents, and a sister of Mr. Abbot,
losing her husband about the same time his wife died, came to reside
with him, and thus the husband and children were provided for; and
although the shadow of a great grief rested upon them, and there was
a vacancy in their household, they learned to be happy in the present
good, and by living so as to join the dear departed ones in a happier
world.

It was again June--mild, lovely June. The air was filled with the
sweet music of the birds that carolled their evening lay, and seemed
pouring forth a sweet song of gratitude to Heaven, for that delightful
day. Gentle breezes sighed through the leafy trees soft as the first
whispering of young love, giving them a trembling motion, like a
bashful maiden as she blushingly listens to it. Beautiful looked the
little village of W----, as the setting sun cast his slanting rays
upon it, tinging the leaves with deeper green, and burnishing the
little st