But silently the neighbors had assembled from miles around, some on foot, more in ox-teams. The rooms were crowded with an intelligent, strongly-marked audience, decorous and sympathizing. A deep hush was over all as I read those solemn, sweetly-consoling passages in the Bible that lead the thoughts from the perishable to the unchangeable, and reveal the life to come. How wondrously significant were they in that grief-shadowed, pioneer home! And how touching the oft-sung hymn,— "Thus fades the lovely, blooming flower, Frail, smiling solace of an hour!" Never, however, had I read those fine words of Cowper with such effect:— "God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps on the sea, And rides upon the storm." And I felt impressed to say, alluding to the providential and gracious preparation of the lad for the sudden coming of the messenger, that, if the bereaved would seek grace to look away from secondary causes up to the great First Cause, confiding in his wisdom and love, I felt confident they would yet see proofs of a kind design in their affliction, and learn that by it God intended signal good to themselves and others; a remark which subsequent events justified. But I will not anticipate. The mother's sorrowful face haunted me all the way during the ride back. Few words were spoken by our little company, before so companionable. The gloom of the death-room was on us all. The very landscape seemed in unison with the scene we had left, as it stretched away to the horizon, smooth and treeless, wrapped in its fleecy shroud. As I glanced athwart the long, dull level, I thought of the races that once held possession here, now gone. What was that great solitude but a vast city of the dead, without a memento? Only one living thing appeared as far as the eye could reach. On a gently swelling mound near by, scarcely distinguishable, in its garb of pure white, from the snowy hillock, sat a large Arctic bird ("strix nyctea"). Naturalists say that nearly all the notes of birds are plaintive. With a moaning scream, like one in distress, the bird soared over us, his eagle size and swan-like plumage adding majesty to his lonely flight. The whole was in unison with the sad emotions that ruled our hearts. "I thank you for calling for me," said my infidel friend, as he stepped out of the sleigh at his gate. "And I thank 'you,'" I replied, "for opening the way for Christian labor on behalf of that afflicted family. If it benefits them, you brought it about. And my prayer is, that it may do us 'all' good!" "I hope it may," he rejoined, with a tremulous voice, as he entered his door.