à e.

Ae entered together the dwelling

h. One glance convinced me that.

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red pun. his brow again lighted

6

one whise way 19 eternal joy ve

st, whose door to eternal be

Greatly comforted by praye

the holy communion mag?, he once sa

to him and his children, Ty të around heit Tize who hab

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จีน

t had

5. last a.

testimony of faith and hope to those whom it loved. Rekindling still more and more, as it lingered upon the threshold of time, we were surprised to hear in an emphatic voice, his blessing upon those who surrounded him, in the name of that God whose peace passeth all understanding.'

There was an interval, during which, he seemed to slumber. Whispers of hope were heard around his couch, that he might awake and be refreshed. At length, his eyes slowly unclosed. They were glazed, and deeply sunken in their sockets. Their glance was long and kind upon those who hung over his pillow. His lips moved, but not audibly. Bending my ear more closely, I found that he spoke of him who is the 'resurrection and the life.' A slight shuddering passed over his frame, and he sank to rest.

A voice of loud weeping rose from among the children, who had been summoned to the bed of death. Ere I had attempted to administer consolation, the son with a calm voice pronounced, 'the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord.'

Deep silence ensued. It seemed as if every heart was installing him who spake, in the place of the father and the governor who had departed. He stood

among them in the simple majesty of his birth-right, as a ruler and priest, to guide his people in the way everlasting. It was as if the mantle of the sainted one had descended upon him, as if those ashen lips had broken the seal of death to utter, 'behold my servant whom I have chosen.' Every eye fixed upon him its expression of fealty and love. Gradually the families retired to their respective habitations. Each individual paused at the pillow of the patriarch, to take the silent farewell; and some of the little ones climbed up to kiss the marble face.

I was left alone with him whom I had first known as the lay-reader, and with the dead. The enthusiasm of the moment fled, and the feelings of a son triumphed. Past years rushed like a tide over his memory. The distant scenes of infancy and childhood, the toils of maturity, the planting of that wild waste, the changes of those years which had sprinkled his temples with grey hairs: all, with their sorrows and their joys, came associated with the lifeless image of his beloved sire. In the bitterness of bereavement, he covered his face and wept. That iron frame, which had borne the hardening of more than half a century, shook like the breast of an infant, when it sobs out its sorrows. I waited until the first shock had subsided,