self anew to the service of that Lord and Saviour, in whose faith and fear her dear and lamented mother had lived and died, she advanced with a buoyant step, and at length drew near the much wished-for place, though not so early as she had expected. As she approached the inclosure, her heart beat quicker, her step faultered, and a violent tremor shook her enfeebled and exhausted frame.-She stood for a moment gazing fixedly on the scene.-The trees which encircled that venerable edifice, within whose courts her parent had often worshipped, and beside which she now was laid to rest, wore a lively, but, from the associations inseparable from an autumnal landscape, a melancholy aspect. Their leaves, which the winds had still spared, as if they respected the dwellings of the dead, and the house dedicated to the service of Him, who lent them wings, and sent them forth from his treasuries, but which was now through length of years beginning to bear marks of the dilapidating hand of time, dry or discoloured, gave indications of the advance of Winter. Still, however, they shaded, and, in some degree, sheltered the burying-place, where yet grew a few mountain blossoms, that seemed to linger round the hallowed spot, as if in memorial of that blissful region, where "Everlasting Spring abides, And never-withering flowers." Not distant flowed a stream, whose fall, here softened into a murmur, stole upon the ear, now more full, and again with a sound scarcely audible, as the breeze favoured, or not its approach. It was "The lonely voice of waters, wild and sweet," and seemed mournfully to sympathize with her feelings, while it tended to soothe the anguish of her overburthened heart. After a little she proceeded, though with a step less active, towards the spot she was in search of. It was one well adapted to awaken serious emotions. Retired from the surrounding graves, and planted about with the yew and the rowan-tree, whose bright berries still hung in clusters on the branches, and appeared willing to whisper of the gladdening hope, which dwelt beside the bed of rest, where the eye of Florine, now moistened with tears, was fixed, you might have thought it, truly, the couch where piety reposed. A newly erected stone attracted her attention. It was consecrated to the memory of her mother. Althun, unknown to his sister, had placed it there; and it bore an inscription engraven by himself: -- "To the memory of a beloved mother, from a sorrowful and affectionate son.Her hope was Christ; and in his appointed time he took her to himself. Humble in her journey through life, and close in her walk with God, she died in the full assurance of faith, calmly yielding her spirit into her Redeemer's hands." Florine gazed on the words, and read them over and over, until the stone was watered with her tears. After a little recovering herself, she unconsciously ejaculated: "And is it here my sainted parent rests? Ah! my dear, my lamented mother! -But that healing sound must calm this agitated heart no more. I have no mother now. Thy voice shall never again reach these ears. Thy last end was peace indeed-O may a gracious Saviour sustain thy child in the trying hour, as he sustained thee!" Overcome by the exertion, and the contending emotions of her bosom, she sunk down upon the stone bereft of sense and feeling, and almost as lifeless as she who mouldered beneath it. How long she remained in this situation she was unable precisely to ascertain, but when she awoke, she perceived that the evening was rapidly advancing, and that the sun had already considerably declined. She could not, however, prevail upon herself for a few moments longer to quit the spot.-She raised her eyes to Heaven, and fetching a 'once deep sigh, exclaimed: "O my God, look upon my affliction, and remember that I am but dust. I am the work of thine hands, and, Oh! never leave me, never forsake me! As thou wast merciful to the parent, be merciful also to the child. O my Redeemer, put underneath me thine everlasting arms, and accept the poor homage of an overflowing heart! With thee I more renew my baptismal vows. On this spot, consecrated by the repose of one of thy ransomed-where she sleeps, who so often commended me to thy care, and dedicated me to thy service-do I now solemnly surrender myself in soul and body unto thee. Receive me, and be gracious unto me, for I am weak and helpless. In thee I trust, only in thee. O let me, therefore, experience thy faithfulness in life and in death-that whether I live, I may live unto thee, or whether I die, I may die unto thee." Then, scattering a few autumnal wild flowers which she had gathered by the way upon the grave, and again |