thoughts. I go to such joys as the heart of man cannot conceive! and yet, Matilda, though we see as through a glass darkly, enough is revealed of our blessed prospects to shew, that an eternity amidst the choicest blessings of this world would be less than nothing in the balance. I pray my child that you may follow me, and whether the path along which you are led to glory be strewed with roses or hedged in with thorns, it will matter but little if the Holy Spirit be your guide and comforter. Shall it not be so, Matilda? Shall not a few years restore us to each other? Then let us now thank God that my passage is short and easy to the glories of eternal day."

Matilda could not reply, but she slowly sunk on her knees beside the couch of Lady Olivia, who breathed forth a prayer so profoundly touching, so full of cheerful faith and holy resignation, so abounding in bright anticipations of the future, and in deepest tenderness for those she left behind, that before the sublime strain of her adoration and praise was concluded, Matilda felt as if she were herself on the verge of eternity, and as if no worldly sorrow could ever reach her more.

It was long after midnight when our heroine, who had lighted her candles and remained stationary by the bed of her aunt, wrapt in serious meditation, and occasionally reading in the Holy Scriptures, became suddenly struck with surprise at an unusual quietness which reigned in the room,—not a breath was heard,—not a sound was uttered, but the stillness of death seemed around her. Slowly and fearfully she drew aside the curtain and gazed into the bed. One glance was sufficient to reveal the dreadful truth, and Matilda discovered, with a degree of awe too solemn for the indulgence of any human emotion, that the spirit of Lady Olivia Neville had fled for ever. Her lips were parted, and still bore the traces of a peaceful smile-her eyes were turned towards heaven, and the colour yet lingered in

her cheek. The pillow was unruffled, and one hand rested loosely on the quilt, while the other was placed beneath her head in the attitude of deep repose.

She slept, indeed, for it was the sleep of death, in which her body was to await that call which shall restore our slumbering dust to a GLORIOUS RESURRECTION.