an approaching spectre, took upon itself shape and presence. A
conversation between himself and his daughter on the second day after
the accident, and his conduct immediately thereafter, may give us some
apprehension of the current of his thoughts and feelings then.

"My dearest father," said Faith, throwing her arms around his neck,
and repeating what she had said more than once before, "oh, how
thankful ought I to be for the saving of your precious life!"

"We are often thankful in our ignorance," said her father, "for the
greatest misfortunes."

"Do you call it a misfortune to me," she cried, "that I am not left
alone in the world? Oh, father, what should I do without you?" And
in spite of her exertions to suppress them, the tears burst from her
eyes.

"Come to me, my child," said Armstrong, and he took the weeping girl
into his arms, and leaned her head gently upon his bosom. "Compose
yourself. Believe me, there are trials harder to be borne than the
loss of parents."

"None, none to me," sobbed Faith. "If it were right I would pray that
I might die the same moment with you."

"It is well for one like me to think often of death," said her father,
"nor should the young forget they are mortal. But many happy days, I
trust, are reserved for my darling."

"Happy, if you are to share them with me, father. But why do I weep,"