The Indiana State sentinel., 1880-05-12
Death of Little Children.
ATLANTA iaa.l J Chronicle.l

We know a very aged woman who, though
her days have had their abundant share of
sorrow, clings to life with almost youthful
eagerness, declaring that though she had
always resigned herself to Gods will. she
always hoped to stay a very long time in this
beautiful world. The strong, brave spirit of
this remarkable matron is in sharp and shin
ing contrast to those weaker natures which
rebel against the Father of Life for extin-
gushing His gift prematurely. A long life
filled with wholesome deeds, is the most glor-
iOus to humanity. 1t is one expression of
what is best for some persons in the divine
love and wisdom. 1t often pleases Provi-
dence, however, to take the blossom instead
of the full-blown or withered flower, and
when this dispensation comes, it has
pathetic charm that does not cling to
the dissolution of the old and worn.
None the less is it, as we are bound
to believe the most perfect shadowing of
the design of Him who doeth all things
we'll" 1t is hard for parents to surrender
their little children even to God and Heaven.
1t is selfish perhaps and natural too. But
out Of the grave itself comes sanctifcation
and while the last rally of despair is in the
mothers heart, the little hand of the child
angel leads her insensibly to higher
life and a most deathless hope all un-
known before. 1t is a precious privilege
to have children on earth, but divine bless
ing to know that they have been gathered
away from all soil and sin by the sheltering
arms of the Savior. Humanity asserts itself
in the presence Of the little dress, which
breathes odorously of it's once tender mis-
tress; at Ithe sight of toy, shoe, a bit of
ribbon-the least object that once was hers.
How can there be anything but tears when
gazing upon the snowy whiteness of an
empty crib, where she reposed in health,
suffered in agony, and passed from earth
to Immortality. Perhaps there was trace
of pain as she slept in her coffin. How
shall parent ever forget that, and how shall
a mother fail to remember that the dainty
body of her darling is heavily pressed upou
by the churchyard clay? Luckily, there
comes time to all such bereaved persons
when the child no longer seems to be thing
of earth, but vision of supernal beauty clad
in light, radiant with life eternal, crowned
with splendor and illumined with bliss. To
behold again that rapturous image, to claim
maternal kinship with that glorified being.
to roam with it through the wales and along
the streams of Paradise Is the per petual
wish and constant effort of the parent who
has lost child and yet believes that God
who summoned it away will one day restore
it forever. So, while there is much to grieve
for in the death of dear child, there is much
that is eonsoling. The greatest blessing is
growth in holiness that leads along the path
way of the skies. Out of the prison of the
tomb there is evoked an anthem like that so
touchingly sung in "The Chambered Nau-
tilus"-
"Buid thee stately mansions, o my soul,
As the swift seasons ROLL
Leave thy low-vsulted past.
Let each new temple. nobler than the last
Shut thee from Heaven with deme more vast,
Till thou at length art free,
Leaving the outgrown she'll by Lifes unresting sea'