THE SNOW DROP. 17 



with a look of sweet sympathy, that the Loid 

 would soon bring her to Himself; but that he 

 saw it needful first to remove the object of her 

 exclusive attachment. ' My death will be the 

 means of bringing you to Christ; and Christ's 

 death has opened for us both the way to God. 

 Fear not, my beloved Theresa — only believe. — 

 We shall sing a new song together before the 

 throne of the Lamb.' 



Poor, poor Theresa ! A few days more would 

 have brought them to anchor in the English port ; 

 and at least she would have been spared the awful 

 solitariness that surrounded her, when without one 

 outward solace, she sat watching that lifeless clay, 

 extended before her in the calm still beauty of 

 death. She described herself as having undei- 

 gone the most extraordinary change, from the 

 moment of his decease. The smothered tempest 

 under the outbreakings of which she had ex- 

 pected, and even hoped to die, passed away 

 without a single burst. A cold, dull, quiet endu- 

 rance succeeded ; not unmixed with transient 

 gleams of hope, as his parting words again and 

 again passed through her unresisting mind. Yet 

 she was roused, by what I can well suppose must 

 be one of the most heart-rending sounds pertain- 

 ing to this world of woe ; the splash that told her 

 when that form, so long and fondly loved, was 

 indeed descending into its watery grave — and the 



2* 



