around the sick bed. But the same
quickness which makes a mind buoyant in gladness, often makes it
gentlest and most sympathetic in sorrow.

It was now nearly morning in the sick room. George had been restless and
feverish all night; but towards day he fell into a slight slumber, and
James sat by his side, almost holding his breath lest he should waken
him. It was yet dusk, but the sky was brightening with a solemn glow,
and the stars were beginning to disappear; all, save the bright and
morning one, which, standing alone in the east, looked tenderly through
the casement, like the eye of our heavenly Father, watching over us when
all earthly friendships are fading.

George awoke with a placid expression of countenance, and fixing his
eyes on the brightening sky, murmured faintly,--

"The sweet, immortal morning sheds
Its blushes round the spheres."

A moment after, a shade passed over his face; he pressed his fingers
over his eyes, and the tears dropped silently on his pillow.

"George! _dear_ George!" said James, bending over him.

"It's my friends--it's my father--my mother," said he, faintly.

"Jesus Christ will watch over them," said James, soothingly.

"O, yes, I know he will; for _he_ loved his own which were in the world;
he loved them unto the end. But I am dying--and before I have done any
good."

"O, do not say so," said James; "think, think what you have done, if
only for _me_. God bless you for it! God _will_ bless you for it; it
will follow you to heaven; it will bring me there. Yes, I will do as you
have taught me. I will give my life, my soul, my whole strength to it;
and then you will not have lived in vain."

George smiled, and looked upward; "his face was as that of an angel;"
and James, in his warmth, continued,--

"It is not I alone who can say this; we all bless you; every one in this
place blesses you; you will be had in everlasting remembrance by some
hearts here, I know."

"Bless God!" said George.

"We do," said James. "I bless him that I ever knew you; we all bless
him, and we love you, and shall forever."

The glow that had kindled over the pale face of the invalid again faded
as he said,--

"But, James, I must, I ought to tell my father and mother; I ought to,
and how can I?"

At that moment the door opened, and Uncle Lot made his appearance. He
seemed struck with the paleness of George's face; and coming to the side
of the bed, he felt his pulse, and laid his han