Year: 1863

That call the full spirit of fragrancy out
SO the wild flower of passion may kinde from


mirth,


But It's only in grief, true affection appears


To the magic of smiles it may owe its first birth,
But the soul of its sweetness is drawn out by
tears"


The childlike sense of dependence
the taste for deep and holy communing
with God-the merging of our will in
his higher and better will, these are gra-
ces that take root in trouble and grow
thriftily in sorrow.


God knows best. He never mistakes.


Through all this providence, which gath
ers us to-day-saddening our hearts and


battling our maturest wisdom, his line Of


thought runs steady and clear and warm


AS the gulf-stream through the ocean.


He knows why our brother was stricken
down in the fulness and vigor of man


hood, instead Of filling out the years Of


his fathers. He knew the secret of that


hidden disease which the eye Of human
skill could not penetrate. The long
months of suffering, in which by slow
steps, nature fighting every inch of
ground, was at length overcome--each
groan of anguish forced from the suffer
er's heart and striking in sharp pain on
the loving chord of other hearts--al the
nights of weary watching, and the days
of wearing care-the immeasurable strain
upon household care and sympathy and
love-that strain which nothing but love
could have endured-every ache of the


heart--every cry of the bruised spirit
even those hidden pangs Of the soul
that deepest grief which the world can


not see--those groanings Of the spirit


which cannot be uttered-he has known
it all-permitted it all in love, and there
fore it is that you struggle TO say, 9 Thy


will be DONE"


"He kindles for your profit purely
Affections glowing, fiery brand,
And all his heaviest blows are surely
| Inflicted by a master hand
And yet you whisper As God will


And trust in him and suffer still.
| "He comes and lays your heart, all heated
On the hard anvil-minded so


Into his own fair shape to beat it
With his great hammer, blow on blow,
| And vet YOU whisper AS God will
| And at his heaviest blows hold still.
! "He takes your aching heart and beats it,
The sparks fly off at every blow;
He turns it DER and DER, and heats it,
And lets it cool and makes ii glow;
And vet you whisper As God will
And in his mighty hand hold still"


Because this providence is Gods pro


vidence you accept it with submission


The blow is heavy, but it was his hanc


that held the rod and you will not mur-


mur. Nay, through your binding tears,


you will look con6dingly up to him ana
see in the very severity OF his dealing,
the highest proof Of his love-" For,
whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth,
and scourgeth every son whom he rece-
veth."


Yet, though we school our hearts to
submission, though we teach our lips to
say "Thy will be done," yet the heart
wiH ache, the tears ,oiU fall. Strong
men wept as they saw the shadow OF
death creeping over those familiar fea-
lures, and our tears will flow apace to-
day as we gaze on the face of the dead.
On that high and op n brow, death has
set his seal. That musical voice, so Of
ten lifted in the service of sacred song,
is hushed forever. Those hands, from
which you had so often received the EN-
blems of redeeming love, are folded now
for their long sleep. Those fingers, which /
had such skill to stir the soul of that in
strument, which lies mute and mourning
upon the coffin, henceforth shall sweep
the harps of heaven. Your choir mourns
its leader, but the leader of heavens
choir rejoices that another sweet voice is
added to the mighty host that sing the !
song of Moses and the Lamb"


OF the life and character of him who
has gone you will hardly expect me to
speak to you, amorg whom that life was
lived and that character formed. Forty
six years was the temple Of his body in
and those years were lived amid
hese bills and valleys so familiar to you.
Fifty indeed might ybu speak to me of
iim; scarce fitting rs it that / should
peak of him to yop. Indeed could
have followed the impulse of my heart,
| should have taken nay place among the
nourners to-day, instead Of standing in
his place. Six summers ago, stran-
ger, scarce moro than boy, lcame for a
)rief period of labor to your quiet town.
II was a bright Sabbath morning in May,
when for the first time toiled over yon-
Ter hill. towards this sanctuary. His
land was the first TO give me welcome in
his community, and during the brief time
labored here his house was a home TO
ne, and the best it could give was offered
With a warmth and heartiness which
made it easy TO accept and among all
hose, aud they were many, who wei
'omed me not to their homes merely, but
o their hearts, and who lavished upon
ne kindness which did not deserve
md cannot forget, this household, broken
low aud sorrowing with great sorrow,
vas ever among the foremost. His plea
ant features, his cheerful voice, his uuas-
uming manner, his ready kindness, bis
but sincere piety, are fresh
n my mind now, as with tears sweeping
lown bis face, he wrung my hand and
ried to say " Goodbye" Little thought
then that the next time my voice shod
be heard within these walls, it should be
over his coffin. He is gone. The strong
man has bowed himself. You will miss
bis place in the church, in the choir, in
The prayer-circle, in the neighborhood,
aud more than all, most Of all, will he be