The rich and earnest voice made the woods ring with one verse of "Oh! how happy are they Who the Saviour obey, And have laid up their treasure above I Tongue can never express The sweet comfort and peace Of a soul in its earliest love." And then he broke into Watts's "When I can read my title clear To mansions in the skies, I'll bid farewell to every fear And wipe my weeping eyes!" There seemed to be some accord between the singing of the brave old man and the peacefulness of the landscape.

Soon he had reached the last stanza, and in tones of subdued but ecstatic triumph he sang: "There I shall bathe my weary soul In seas of heavenly rest, And not a wave of trouble roll Across my peaceful breast." And with these words he passed round the hill and out of the hearing of the young people.
"August," said Julia slowly, as if afraid to break a silence so blessed, "August, it seems to me that the sky and the river and the hazy hills and my own soul are all alike, just as full of happiness and peace as they can be." "Yes," said August, smiling, "but the sky is clear, and your eyes are raining, Julia.

But can it be possible that God, who made this world so beautiful, will burn it up to-night?
It used to seem a hard world to me when I was away from you, and I didn't care how quickly it burned up.
But now--" Somehow August forgot to finish that sentence.

Words are of so little use under such circumstances.

A little pressure on Julia's arm which was in his, told all that he meant.