weary with watching, retired, leaving the father and a sister, to take
care of her.

It was Sabbath morning; the gray dawn was just streaking the east with
the earliest beams of day, when the father, who sat a little distance
from his child, thought he saw her gasp for breath. He sprang to her
side, and saw too truly, that that pale visitant from the spirit land,
that comes to us but once, was dealing with his child. The mother and
grandmother, who had watched over her so unweariedly, soon reached the
bed; but the brittle thread of life was snapped, and the pure spirit
had passed away, with the pale messenger, to the spirit land. There
were no loud lamentations. The mother pressed her cheeks between her
hands, exclaiming,

"Oh, Emma."

Then taking her little pulseless hand in her own, seated herself
beside her on the bed, calm and tearless.

The father, with his face buried in his hands, sat motionless; but no
murmur escaped his lips. He had learned submission to the divine will,
and was comforted in his hour of need.

And brighter, and brighter grew the beams of that holy Sabbath day.
That day the dear child had loved so well. She had loved to enter the
earthly temple, and join in the hymns of thanksgiving and praise that
arose, like sweet incense, upon their sacred altars. And now, with the
early dawning of that sacred day, she had passed forever from earth,
to join the pure throng of worshippers before the throne of God. The
smile of heaven was upon her face, as though the light of the happy