Year: 1867

Children, when approaching the gates of
heaven, are not so great sufferers as we imagine.
1rue they may experience pain but it is just
as merciful as the law of pleasure. The plead
ing look, the helpless dependence, and the
cllnglng love, may call up from the heart of
maternal affection tears of sympathy; but these
outward manifestations may be more on account
OF those who weep around their beds, than for
themselves; still, we cannot keep the eyes from
swimming In tears as we bend over these droop-
ing flowers, to afford them some relief; keep
their feet from going down into the dark val
ley.


Little children are full of faith and trust in
God, especially when they glide down to the
brink OF the river of death. To see these little
ones pass cheerfully on trusting in the assurance
that they will live and bloom forever in the
paradise of God, elevates our hearts, robs death
OF Its gloom, and takes away the terrors of the
grave. Who has not stood by the bedside of
dying children, and been thrilled with singular
testimonies that they were conscious of the pre-
sence OF others than mortal vsitants The glory
OF their sunset on earth seems to open the high
way that is by angels trod, and unbar the gates
Of that city whose builder and maker is God.
Often when the mortal vision begins to grow
dim, they see and are delighted with the light
and beauty OF the spirit world. Il see now
day is come said a little boy blind from his





that the child was better. But an hour passed
and he was with the angels When the light
OF heaven began to dawn upon the spiritual
vision Of another little boy, though gasping in
death, he exclaimed: Sing, mother, sing, Je-
rusalem, my happy home His mother had
often breathed these words DER his cradle bed;
but when he felt that his soul was passing on,
clasped with the light of two shining wings, they
were reality to him. With such music in
room where lay little child whose race was
nearly run, the shadows Of the grave must have
been lost In the light Of the happy that was
rolling down into the heart of him, whom angels
were waiting to robe in white


=! know my Redeemer hveth," said little
girl IN sweet tone, to her father her only sur
vlvlng earthly parent. A few moments passed,
then, IN the same deep, melodious voice she
said, Father, | am cold lie down beside me,
and the old man laid down by the side of his
dying child, and she twined her emaciated arms
around his neck, and murmured in a dreamy
voice. Dear father, dear father. The old man
then said, my child, seest thou the other
shore?'' Il see it, father, and its banks are
green with immortal verdure. ''Hearest thou
the voice OF the inhabitants?' Il hear them,
father, as the voices of angels falling from afar
IN the solemn nighttime; and they call me.
Mother voice, too, father, oh, [ heard it
then With these words the light of life went
out, and she passed into the arms of her mother.


have read somewhere of another frail and
beautiful bud, who lost her mother at an age
too early to fix the loved features, in her re-
membrance,. She would often say, in her lonely
moments, when she entwined her arms around
the neck of friend, Now tell me about my
mamma" The dew Of death soon gathered up
on this little flower, and as life's sun was going
family down, brightness as from the upper
world burst over the child's colorless counte.
nance. The eyelds flashed open, and, as she
looked piercingly into the far above, she cried
with surprise and transport in her tome Moth
err and passed with the same breath to her
mothers bosom and thejoys of fheaven. Gospel
R0nnor