I reflected on the interesting and improving nature of _Christian_ friendships, whether formed in palaces or in cottages; and felt thankful that I had so long enjoyed that privilege with the subject of this memorial.

I then indulged a selfish sigh for a moment, on thinking that I could no longer hear the great truths of Christianity uttered by one who had drunk so deep of the waters of the river of life.

But the rising murmur was checked by the animating thought, "She is gone to eternal rest--could I wish her back again in this vale of tears ?" At that moment the first sound of a tolling bell struck my ear.

It proceeded from a village church in the valley directly beneath the ridge of a high hill, over which I had taken my way.

It was Elizabeth's funeral knell.
The sound was solemn; and, in ascending to the elevated spot over which I rode, it acquired a peculiar tone and character.