ore? We must all go; all, sooner or later. He might not
perfect his work; but he stood ready, ready in will and ability when he
was called to the higher work-place! Lord and Master, thou hast taken
the disciple to thyself. Well for him that he was ready! That is the
most important for us all!'

"Ernst's words and state of mind produced great effect upon me. Peace
returned to my spirit. In the stillness of the night I did not sleep,
but I rested on his bosom. It was calm around me and in me. And in the
secret of my soul I wished that it might ever remain so, that no more
day might dawn upon me, and no more sun shine upon my weary, painful
eyes.

"How the days creep on! On occasions of great grief it always appears as
if time stood still. All things appear to stand still, or slowly and
painfully to roll on, in dark circles; but it is not so! Hours and days
go on in an interminable chain; they rise and sink like the waves of the
sea; and carry along with them the vessel of our life: carry it from the
islands of joy it is true, but carry it also away from the rocky shores
of grief. Hours came for me in which no consolation would appease my
heart, in which I in vain combated with myself, and said--'Now I will
read, and then pray, and then sleep!' But yet anguish would not leave
me, but followed me still, when I read; prevented me from prayer, and
chased away sleep; yes, many such hours have been, but they too are
gone; some such may perhaps come yet, but I know also that they too will
go. The tenderness of my husband and of my children--the peace of
home--the many pleasures within it--the relief of tears--the eternal
consolation of the Eternal Word--all these have refreshed and
strengthened my soul. It is now much, much better. And then--he died
pure and spotless, the youth with the clear glance and the warm heart!
He stood, as his father said, ready to go into the higher world. Oh!
more than ever have I acknowledged, in the midst of my deep pain, that
there is pain more bitter than this; for many a living son is a greater
grief to his mother than mine--the good one there, under the green
mound!

"We have planted fir-trees and poplars around the grave, and often will
it be decorated with fresh flowers. No dark grief abides by the grave of
the friendly youth.--Henrik's sisters mourn for him deep and
still--perhaps Gabriele mourns him most of all. One sees it not by day,
for she is generally gay as formerly; a little song,