I sat at the foot of the grave leaning against a marble slab, and unsealed, with cold and trembling hands, my mother's _heart_, for so that manuscript seemed to me.
At first I could not see the lines, for my tears rained down so fast they threatened to obliterate the delicate characters; but after repeated efforts I acquired composure enough to read the following brief and thrilling history.

It was the opening of the sixth seal of my life.
The stars of hope fell, as a fig-tree casteth her untimely figs when she is shaken by a mighty wind, and the heaven of my happiness departed as a scroll when it is rolled together, and the mountains and islands of human trust were moved out of their places.
MY MOTHER'S HISTORY.
"Gabriella, before your eyes shall rest on these pages, mine will be closed in the slumbers of death.

Let not your heart be troubled, my only beloved, at the record of wrongs which no longer corrode; of sorrows which are all past away.

'In my Father's house are many mansions,' and one of them is prepared for me.

It is my Saviour's promise, and I believe it as firmly as if I saw the golden streets of the New Jerusalem, where that heavenly mansion is built.
"Weep not, then, my child, my orphan darling, over a past which cannot be recalled; let not its shadow rest too darkly upon you,--if there is joy in the present, be grateful; if there is hope in the future, rejoice.
"You have often asked me to tell you where I lived when I was a little child; whether my home was a gray cottage like ours, in the woods; and whether I had a mother whom I loved as dearly as you loved me.