The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord! We are old, and can have but a little further to travel in our journey, and then--," he could say no more The soldier, mentioned in my last paper, reached a Bible into my hand, and said, "Perhaps, sir, you would not object to reading a chapter before we go to the church ?" I did so; it was the fourteenth of the book of Job.

A sweet tranquillity prevailed while I read it.

Each minute that was spent in this funeral chamber seemed to be valuable.

I made a few observations on the chapter, and connected them with the case of our departed sister.
"I am but a poor soldier," said our military friend, "and have nothing of this world's goods beyond my daily subsistence; but I would not exchange my hope of salvation in the next world for all that this world could bestow without it.

What is wealth without grace?
Blessed be God! as I march about from one quarter to another, I still find the Lord wherever I go; and, thanks be to his holy name, he is here to-day in the midst of this company of the living and the dead.