the wound made by the leeches; this I replaced with my only handkerchief. I then endeavored to straighten the contracted limbs, for she had died lying upon her side, with her body drawn nearly double. I found this a rather difficult task; yet was it a melancholy pleasure, a duty that I performed irresolutely but with tenderness. After all was done, and before getting the water to wash the body (for I wished to enrobe her decently for the burial), I gave way to the luxury of expressed grief, and, sinking down upon my knees beside that lifeless form, thanked God for having taken her from this scene of trouble and trial. "You are gone, my poor old friend; but that hereafter of which we all entertain so much dread, cannot be to you so bad as this wretched present; and though I am lonely without you, I rejoice that you have left this land of bondage. And I believe that at this moment your tried soul is free and happy!" So saying, I stepped without the door of the cabin, and, looking up to the clear, cold moon and the way-off stars, I smiled, even in my bitterness, for I imagined I could see her emancipated soul soaring away on its new-made wings, to the land forever flowing with milk and honey. She had often in her earth-pilgrimage, as many tried martyrs had done before her, fainted by the wayside; but then was she not sorely tempted, and did not a life of captivity and seven-fold agony, atone for all her short-comings? Besides, we are divinely informed that where little is given, little is required. In view of this sacred assurance, let not the sceptic reader think that my faith was stretched to an unwarranted degree. Yes, I did and _do_ think that she was at that moment and is now happy. If not, how am I to account for the strange feeling of peace that settled over my mind and heart, when I thought of her! For a holy, heavenly calm, like the dropping of a prophet's mantle, overspread my heart; a cool sense of ease, refreshing as the night dew, and sustaining as the high stars, seemed to gird me round! I did not heed the cold air, but walked out a few rods in the direction of the out-house, where Lindy was confined. "Yonder," I soliloquized, "perishing for a kind word, lies a poor outcast, wretched being. I will go to her, bury all thoughts of the past, and speak one kind word of encouragement." As I drew near to the "lock-up," the moon that had been sailing swift and high through the heaven, passed beneath the screen of a dark cloud. I paused in my steps and looked up to the sky. "Such," I thought, "is the transit of a human soul across the vault of life; beneath clouds and shadows the serene face is often hidden, and the spirit's mellow light is often, by affliction, obscured from view."