VICTORY WITHOUT CONFLICT.

REV. JAMES HERVEY, A.M.

YONDER white stone, emblem of the innocence it covers, informs the beholder of one who breathed out its tender soul almost in the instant of receiving it. There the peaceful infant, without so much as knowing what labour and vexation mean, "lies still and is quiet; it sleeps and is at rest." Staying only to wash away its native impurity in the laver of regeneration, it bade a speedy adieu to time and terrestrial things. Happy voyager! no sooner launched than arrived at the haven!

"Happy the babe, who, privileg'd by fate
To shorter labour, and a lighter weight,
Receiv'd but yesterday the gift of breath,
Order'd to-morrow to return to death.”

Consider this, ye mourning parents, and dry up your tears. Why should you lament that your little ones are crowned with victory before the sword is drawn, or the conflict begun. Perhaps the Supreme Disposer of events foresaw some inevitable snare of temptation forming, or some dreadful storm of adversity impending. And why should you be so dissatisfied with that kind precaution, which housed your pleasant plant, and removed into shelter a tender flower, before the thunders roared, before the lightnings flew, before the tempest poured its rage? O remember! they are not lost, but "taken away from the evil to come."

THE FLOWER PLUCKED BY THE MASTER.

A GENTLEMAN'S gardener had a darling child, in whom his affections seemed to be centred. The Lord laid His hand upon the babe-it sickened and died. The father was disconsolate, and murmured at the dealings of Providence.

The gardener had in one of his flower-beds a favourite rose. It was the fairest flower he had ever seen on the tree, and he daily marked its growing beauty, intending, when it was full blown, to send it to his master's mansion. One morning it was gone-some one had plucked it. Mortified at what he thought was the improper conduct of one of the servants, he endeavoured to find out the culprit. He was, however, much surprised to find that it was his master, who, on walking through the garden, had been attracted by the beauty of the rose, and, plucking it, had carried it to one of the beautiful rooms in the hall. The gardener's anger was changed into pleasure. He felt reconciled when he heard that his master had thought the flower worthy of such special notice.

"Ah, Richard!" said the gentleman, "you can gladly give up the rose, because I thought it worthy of a place in my house. And will you repine because your heavenly Father has thought wise to remove your child from a world of sin, to be with Himself in heaven?"

THE CROWN OF LIFE.

REV. RICHARD CECIL.

I PERCEIVE I did not know how much my life was bound up in the life of a creature. When she went, nothing seemed left me; one is not, and the rest seem a few thin and scattered remains. And yet how much better for my lamb to be suddenly housed-to slip unexpectedly into the fold to which I was conducting her, than remain exposed here; perhaps become a victim. I cried, "O Lord, spare my child!" He did; but not as I meant; He snatched it from danger, and took it to His own home.-Part of myself is already gone to Thee: help what remains to follow!

He who removed our infant has seemed to say, "What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter; patiently suffer this little one to comunto me, for of such is my kingdom composed. Verily, I say unto you, their angels do always behold the face of my Father. If I take away your child, I take it away to Myself." Is not this infinitely beyond anything you could do for it? Could you say to it, if it had lived, thou shalt "weep no more, the days of thy mourning are ended?" Could you show it anything in this world like "the glory of God and of the Lamb?' Could you raise it to any honour here like "receiving a crown of life?"

GONE TO SLEEP.

ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.

INDEED, it was a sharp stroke of a pen that told me your pretty Johnny was dead. Sweet thing! and is he so quickly laid asleep? Happy he! Though we shall have no more the pleasure of his lisping and laughing, he shall have no more the pain of crying, nor being sick, nor of dying; and hath wholly escaped the troubles of schooling, and all other sufferings of boys, and the riper and deeper griefs of riper years; this poor life being all along nothing but a linked chain of many sorrows and many deaths. Tell my dear sister she is now much more akin to the other world; and this will be quickly passed by us all. John has but gone an hour or two sooner to bed, as children used to do, and we are undressing to follow. And the more we put off the love of this present world, and all things superfluous beforehand, we shall have the less to do when we lie down.

JOHN FLAVEL ON DEPARTED CHILDREN.

GOD may have taken the lamented objects of your affection from the evil to come. When extraordinary calamities are coming on the world, He frequently hides some of His feebler children in the grave. Surely, at such a portentous period, it is happier for such as are prepared to be lodged in that peaceful mansion, than to be exposed to calamities and distresses here.

THE GLORY OF DEPARTED INFANTS.

(FROM THE EDINBURGH CHRISTIAN INSTRUCTOR, DEC. 1817.) THERE is scarce a dwelling into which we can enter, but if we speak of the death of children, the starting tear will tell us that from it some are gone, that the flower of beauty opened but to perish, and that the heart doated on it only to bleed in disappointment and sorrow. "Thus saith the Lord, Refrain thy voice from weeping, and thine eyes from tears; for thy work shall be rewarded, saith the Lord, and thy children shall come again from the land of the enemy." Jer. xxxi. 16.

You are saying, "had my children glorified God, this might be expected; I might have hope for their resurrection had that tongue sung his praise, and these hands been lifted up in His name;" but in them He has been honoured, though you have neither seen nor known it; and it will be more gratifying to His benevolence to restore them to you than to grant them at first. He who would not permit the disciples to keep back infants from His arnis, will not suffer death to detain in the grave the babes He has destined for His bosom. To rescue them He will be the plague of death and the destruction of the grave, and they who sung not this song before they went to it, shall exclaim as they arise, grave, where is thy victory!" But is this all the triumph of departed infants over the last enemy, and him that had the power of death? The spirit, soaring to glory, is more than a conqueror. The lisping babe

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