embracing again each member of his beloved family. With a heart elate with anticipated happiness, this young man beheld the vessel, in which he was a passenger, nearing the wharf; and when it was safely moored, in the metropolis of his country, he sprang on the shore with a feeling of exulting joy, and, as soon as practicable, took a seat in a stage-coach that would carry him to his native place.

He was compelled to travel several days, ere he could reach home, and they seemed long days to him, the very longest he ever spent during his life. Towards the close of the day upon which he ended his journey, his mind was filled with interesting reflections. He thought of the extatic emotion that would be felt by all his dear friends at Brookfield, when they should recognize his countenance, as he entered once more beneath the paternal roof.

Such thoughts were passing in his mind, as he came in sight of his father's house. By this time, it was early candle-light; and in a moment, on looking towards the stately mansion, he descried a light shining from a window in the chamber which his mother had always occupied before he left home. This sight was rather unusual in time of health, and he began to fear that either his father or mother must be ill. With this feeling, he alighted from the carriage, and while his baggage was being removed, he ascended the steps and opened the door.

Jane, who had heard the vechicle drive up to the house, ran into the entry, as soon as she heard the door open. The moment she saw James she ran to him, exclaiming'O! my brother! my dear, dear brother!' and put her arms around his neck.

Mr. Dunbar, hearing the exclamation of his daughter, hastened to welcome his long absent son. Henry also ran to meet him; and after this first greeting was over, the three friends led James into the dining-room, where supper was in readiness. Until this moment, the happy young man had not found opportunity to ask for his mother and eldest sister. Now turning to his father he enquired, 'Where is my mother? I saw a light in her room,' added he, but I hope she is not sick.'

She is,' said his father, too feeble to come down; and after supper you can go up stairs; but not until she is aware of your return.'

'I cannot wait until I have eaten,' said James; 'do Jane, go and inform mother of my arrival now. I suppose,' he continued, 'Rebecca is in the chamber with her, and the time will seem a year until I am permitted to see them.'

'Come,' said his father, interrupting him, 'sit down at the table and take tea. You need refreshment; then we will all go up stairs together.'

James obeyed his father, at the same time renewing his enquiry relative to his absent sister. She is not in the house,' answered Mr. Dunbar.

‘Then, where is she to-night?' eagerly asked James. Henry replied with much emotion, 'We trust she is in Heaven.'

James dropped the spoon from which he was tasting tea; 'What, dead!' said he; 'gone, forever!' His feelings permitted him to say no more. He covered his face with his handkerchief and wept for some minutes, after which, becoming somewhat composed, he

said, What would I not have sacrificed, to have been near her at the time of her death!' He proceeded saying, 'I hope my mother is not fatally ill.'

'She is very sick,' answered Henry.

Does her physician fear that she will not recover,' enquired James.

'He does,' said Henry.

6

I am glad, then,' said the other, 'that I have been permitted to arrive ere she too was forever buried from my sight.'

Jane now left the three friends below, while she went to acquaint her mother of the return of James. She found Mrs. Dunbar anxious to know who had arrived, as she had heard the sound of voices below in the entry, and the nurse had informed her that a gentleman had alighted from a stage-coach at the door.

Her attendant had never seen James, and Mrs. Dunbar had listened in almost breathless silence, hoping to hear the sound of approaching footsteps; and when, after the delay mentioned, she saw Jane enter the room, she said, while her countenance beamed with animation, 'Has James arrived?'

6

'He has,' replied her daughter, and I had come to inform you of the fact, before he came himself."

I suspected from what I had heard, that it was he who came in just now; but why does he not come to see me?' asked the mother.

'Father thought it best he should wait awhile,' said Jane; but here he is now,' added she, at the same moment stepping aside to enable James to advance to the bedside of his mother.

'Mother, dear mother,' said he, 'I rejoice to see you, though I grieve to find you in this situation.'

His mother spoke not, but threw her arms around the neck of her son. After a short silence, she said, 'I feel grateful for this privilege; truly God does hear and answer prayer.'

She then bade James sit down near her, and relate the circumstances through which he had passed during his absence. He soon obeyed, so far as to be seated near her pillow, but forbore to enter into a detailed relation of the events that had occurred since he left home.

'Mother,' said he, taking her hand affectionately, 'I can only say that a merciful Providence has sustained me through trying seasons, but I would rather not review the past, minutely, to night; for I fear you are too feeble to endure the excitement it would cause, were I to comply with your wishes. You may be assured that I have abundant reason for gratitude,' said James with evident emotion, but it distresses me to think that I am soon to be deprived of the society of my dear and valued mother. I cannot endure the thought!'

6

6

6

'Submit, my son, to the will of Heaven,' said his mother, in a feeble tone; submit cheerfully, not as those who feel that resistance is vain. I love,' continued this exemplary individual, to feel that myself and all dear to me are at the disposal of Infinite Wisdom; while I would call upon my soul, and all within me, to bless the Lord for His great goodness, in permitting me once more to behold your face, ere I depart.'

Mrs. Dunbar was quite overcome with the exertion she

had made; and her friends withdrew for awhile from her apartment, in order that she might obtain repose.

James descended to the parlor in company with his father and Henry, while Jane retired to a part of the room remote from her mother, and there sat down to wait until that dear parent should call for her. The buoyant spirits of James sunk, in prospect of the trial he must soon. experience; his heart was pained, also, at his diappointment, in not beholding Rebecca; and he sat down and wept long, ere his troubled feelings became composed.

His friends sympathized too deeply in his sorrow to interrupt this expression of his woe, and permitted him to give full vent to his feelings. They conversed but little ere the hour for retiring to rest arrived, and then separated for the night.

Just as the morning light began to illumine the eastern horizon, these friends were summoned from their chambers to gaze for the last time upon the departing wife and mother. The family soon assembled around the bed of death. It was a calm, a holy scene, such as it may be imagined angels love to look upon.

6

my son, that I am to Weep only for your

The dying woman pressed the hand of each dear friend, and bade them a kind farewell. She continued long to grasp the hand of James, who was greatly affected. 'Do not grieve thus,' said she, be separated from you for a season. sins, and follow me to the holy rest of a sinless eternity.' As her respiration became increasingly difficult, she said but little more, yet that little was expressive of the sweet peace of soul promised to all whose minds are stayed on God. Then, with a smile beaming from her features,