A sad intelligence was expressed in every glance, but not to the objects about her.

The soul, subdued by the suffering of its tenement, was wandering afar off, perchance endeavoring to dive into the future, perchance essaying to forget the past.
What says that vision of languishing and loveliness to the old man whose eyes are fixed in grief upon it?
"Thou seest, O Christian! the uselessness of laying up thy treasures here.

Where are now the hopes of half thy lifetime, where the consummation of all thy anxious plans?
She who has been like an angel by thy side, how wearily throbs her young heart! Will she perpetuate the name of thy race?
Will she close thine eyes with her loving hand?
Will she drop upon thy breast a daughter's tear ?" What does the vision say to thee, oh! aged woman?
"There is still more for thee to do, more for thee to suffer.

It is not yet enough of this mortal strife! Thou mayest again see a fair flower crushed by the rude wind of death; perchance she may precede thee, to open for thine entrance the eternal gates!" And what to thee, thou faithful servant?
"There are tears in thine eye, and for me.

For me! Whom thou thoughtest above a touch of aught that could bring sorrow or pain.