were, "My husband I die happy in your arms."

As if an Almighty power had occasioned the metamorphosis, the
countenance of the dying woman rapidly changed, and her features bore
the same appearance they had in years gone by. A smile lingered round
her lips, and over her face was a beautiful and saint-like expression.
The husband gazed upon it, and her resemblance to what she was in days
of yore, flashed across his mind with the rapidity of lightning. But
the change did not last long, for soon she closed her eyes and
loosened her grasp on her husband's neck, while her features resumed
their wan and cheerless expression. Nothing but the smile remained,
and that looked heavenly. Alfred still supported her; he thought she
was asleep.

"She is now in heaven," said Doctor Humphries solemnly.

Yes, she was dead! No more could the libertine prosecute her with his
hellish passions; no more could his vile and lustful desires wreak
their vengeance on her, because of disappointment. No more could the
heartless extortioner turn her from a shelter to perish in the
streets. No more could the gardened and uncharitable speculator wring
from her the last farthing, nor could suffering and starvation tempt
her any more to commit wrong. No--she is in heaven. _There_ the
libertine is not and can never be. _There_ she will ever find a
shelter, for _there_ the extortioner rules not. There the speculator
can never dwell, and in that holy abode suffering and starvation can
never be known. An eternity of happiness was now hers. To the home of
the Father and to the dwelling of the Son, her spirit had winged its
flight, and henceforth, instead of tears, and lamentations the voice
of another angel would be heard in Paradise chanting the praises of
Jehovah.

Yes, the eye of God was turned upon the soldiers wife, and she was
made happy. Her months of grief and misery were obliterated, and the
Almighty in his infinite goodness, had taken her to himself--had taken
her to Heaven. The spirit of the mother is with the child, and both
are now in that home, where we all hope to go. In the ear of the
soldier, two angels are whispering words of divine comfort and peace,
and as their gentle voice enter his heart, a feeling of resignation
steals over this mind, and kneeling over the dead body of his wife he
gently murmurs,

"Thy will be done oh God!"

Every voice is hushed, every tear is dried, and the prayer of the
soldier ascends to Heaven for strength