As he doth praise the holy God,
Who made him pure for that abode !
In tears of joy full well I know

This burdened heart would overflow.

And I should say: Stay here, my son,
My wild laments are o'er,

O well for thee that thou hast won,
I call thee back no more;
But come, thou fiery chariot, come,
And bear me swiftly to that home
Where he with many a loved one dwells,
And evermore of gladness tells!

Then be it as my Father wills,
I will not weep for thee;
Thou livest, joy thy spirit fills,

Pure sunshine thou dost see,
The sunshine of eternal rest:
Abide, my child, where thou art blest;

I with our friends will onward fare,

And, when God wills, shall find thee there.

PAUL GERHARDT. 1650.

MISS WINKWORTH's Translation, "Lyra Germanica,” 2d Series. (Longman & Co.)

NO BITTER TEARS FOR THEE.

No bitter tears for thee be shed,
Blossom of being! seen and gone!
With flowers alone we strew thy bed,
O ever dear departed one!

Whose all of life, a rosy ray,

Blushed into dawn, and passed away.

O! hadst thou still on earth remained,
Vision of beauty! fair as brief!
How soon thy brightness had been stained
With passion or with grief!

Now, not a sullying breath can rise,
To dim thy glory in the skies.

DUTY IN SEASONS OF AFFLICTION.

WHO can say, even after the severest loss, I have no duties, no cares, in life remaining? Much less can a tender mother say it, who has still so many looking to her advice, and, what is almost more, to her example. It is not the smallest part of the good that you may do them to let them see what effect great trials have upon your mind, and that Christianity enables you to bear up against such a stroke.

HANNAH MORE.

A BEAUTIFUL THOUGHT.

LEIGH HUNT says, "Those who have lost an infant are never, as it were, without an infant child. They are the only persons who in one sense retain it always, and they furnish other parents with the same idea. The other children grow up to manhood and womanhood, and suffer all the changes of mortality. child."

This one alone is rendered an immortal

WORDS OF COMFORT.

* AND when we couple with this the known disposition of our great Forerunner, the love that He manifested to children on earth, how He suffered them to approach his person, and lavishing endearment and kindness upon them in the streets of Jerusalem, told his disciples that the presence and company of such as these in heaven formed one ingredient of the joy that was set before Him; tell us if Christianity does not throw a pleasing radiance around an infant's tomb? And should any parent who hears us feel softened by the touching remembrance of a light that twinkled a few short months under his roof, and at the end of its little period expired, we cannot

out

think that we venture too far when we say, that he has only to persevere in the faith, and in the following of the gospel, and that very light will again shine upon him in heaven. The blossom which withered here upon its stalk has been transplanted there to a place of endurance, and there it will then gladden that eye which now weeps the agony of an affection that has been sorely wounded; and in the name of Him who, if on earth, would have wept along with them, do we bid all believers present to sorrow not even as others which have no hope, but to take comfort in the thought of that country where there is no sorrow and no separation.

CHALMERS.

APPENDIX.

THE NECESSITY OF INFANTS' DEATH.

I AM fond of children. I think them the poetry of the world, the fresh flowers of our hearths and homes,-little conjurers, with their "natural magic,” evoking by their spells what delights and enriches all ranks, and equalizes the different classes of society. Often as they bring with them anxieties and cares, and live to occasion sorrow and grief, we should get on very badly without them. Only think, if there was never anything anywhere to be seen but great grown-up men and women! How we should long for the sight of a little child!

Every infant comes into the world like a delegated prophet, the harbinger and herald of good tidings, whose office it is "to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children," and to draw "the disobedient to the wisdom of the just." A child softens and purifies the heart, warming and melting it by its gentle presence; it enriches the soul by new feelings, and awakens within it what is favourable to virtue. It is a beam of light, a fountain of love, a teacher whose lessons few can resist. Infants recall us from, much that engenders and encourages selfishness that freezes the affections, roughens the manners,