done. Oh, would I could tell you how joyfully I
shall put off corruption for incorruption, and exchange mortality for
immortality!

"But I shall see you all again, even though we meet here no more. Let
us hope so. Let us so live that it shall be so. The Saviour's loving
arms are outstretched to receive us all in his embrace."

A pause; silence and tears. Mrs. Royden endeavors to conceal emotion by
arranging Hepsy's cape. Others resort to their handkerchiefs. The
speaker's voice is choked, and there are shining drops gliding down his
aged cheeks. To fill up the pause, he lifts Willie in his arms, as that
young gentleman is tying long grass around his feet, and murmuring
something about keeping him always; kisses him, and presses him to his
heart.

"What are you crying for?" asks the boy, breaking the silence.

With his little brown hand he touches a straw to one of the crystal
drops on the old man's face, and strings it off upon it like a bead.

"Thus may all our tears become bright gems!" says Father Brighthopes,
smiling tenderly upon the child. "But you cannot realize this, my
darling. You teach us a lesson quite unconsciously to your young heart.
You show us how hope is born of affliction, and how joy springs from the
dark soil of distress. My friends, let us look up. Never look down.
Remember what an eternity opens above us, beyond all the clouds of this
life. And may the good God bless you all!"

XXXI.

THE DEPARTURE.

It was evening when the company dispersed. Father Brighthopes took
affectionate leave of each individual, and had a kind and hopeful word
for every one. They seemed to be bidding farewell to some beloved old
patriarch, who had lived all his days amongst them.

The clergyman was left alone with his friends, the Roydens. The evening
was spent in sober, sweet communion. In the morning the family was up
early; for the old man was to be off at eight o'clock.

"Oh, we cannot express how much we owe to you, good Father!" exclaimed
Mrs. Royden, with tears of thankfulness in her eyes, on meeting him in
the parlor. "My husband seems a different man since you have been with
us. And you have taught me a lesson I shall endeavor to profit by. It is
hard to overcome fixed habits, and I know I shall often and often--as I
do now every day--yield to the dictates of my harsh temper; but I trust
I shall come off conqueror in the end!"

"We are all weak, of ourselves," said the old man, affectionately