_"Then Job arose and rent his mantle, and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground and worshipped, "And said, Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord. "In all this Job sinned not, nor charged God foolishly."_ Out of respect to the memory of their dear, venerable, departed friend, they drew down all the blinds of their little house, thereby spreading around them a gloom similar to that within. A sad, a mournful little group they looked! This last sorrow seemed for a while to divert their thoughts from the peril which momentarily menaced them. They talked with frequent emotion, and with many tears, of their late friend--recalling, fondly, innumerable little traits of her gentle and benignant character. Towards the close of the day their souls were subdued into resignation to the will of the all-wise Disposer of events: they had, in some measure, realized the consolations of an enlightened and scriptural piety. They met the next morning, at breakfast, with a melancholy composure. The blinds being drawn down, prevented the bright sunshine out of doors from entering into the little room where their frugal breakfast was spread, and where prevailed a gloom more in unison with their saddened feelings. To all who sat round the table, except little Charles, the repast was slight indeed: he had shortly before begun to breakfast down-stairs, instead of in the nursery; and, merry little thing!--all unconscious of the destitution to which, in all human probability, he was destined--and of the misery which oppressed and was crushing his parents--he was rattling away cheerfully, as if nothing could disturb or interrupt the light-heartedness of childhood. They all started on hearing the unexpected knock of the general postman. He had brought them a letter from Dr. Tatham; who, it seemed, was aware of that which had been the day before despatched to them by Mr. Parkinson. The little doctor's letter was exceedingly touching and beautiful; and it was a good while before they could complete its perusal, owing to the emotion which it occasioned them. 'T was indeed full of tender sympathy--of instructive incentives to resignation to the will of God. "Is not that indeed the language of a devout and venerable minister of God?" said Mr. Aubrey--"whose figure is daily brightening with the glory reflected from the heaven which he is so rapidly approaching? In the order of nature, a few short years must see him, also, removed from us." "Then we shall indeed be desolate!" said Miss Aubrey, weeping bitterly.