beauty, all his infant loveliness, ripened into the perfected excellence of heaven. "Look upward, and your child you 211 see, Fixed in his blest abode; Who would not, therefore, childless be, REV. A. C. THOMPSON. THE STONE ROLLED FROM THE TOMB. As vernal flowers that scent the morn, But wither in the rising day, Thus lovely was this infant's dawn, He died before his infant soul Had ever burnt with wrong desires- He died to sin; he died to care; Spread his light wings, and soared to God. This blessed theme now cheers my voice; The grave is not the loved one's prison; The "stone" that covered half my joys Is "rolled away,” and, lo! "he's risen.' Father, mother, meek-eyed brother, Sit and moan for one departed, Little Mary, gentle-hearted, Sinless child And as nestling memories thicken, Home once bright, how cold and dreary! Fall on forms and hearts a-weary, Thought is in the church-yard, seeking Still the merry laugh deceiving Tiny arms, yet fondly cleaving, Footfalls, silvery footfalls patter Far and near. Ears instinctive pause to hearken, Days drag on and skies shall darken But the heart will find its lost one From the treasured fire-side faces From the tender, warm embraces Sleeps she midst forgotten sleepers Ah! what weary numbers sighing Little Mary, would be lying Low with thee! Where no care nor eating sorrow Weep not when ye tell the story 'Tis a sunbeam joined the glory Overhead! "For of such sweet babes is heaven," Jesus said. AGAINST EXCESSIVE GRIEF.* I KNOW no duty in religion more generally agreed on, nor more justly required by God Almighty, than a perfect submission to His will in all things; nor do I think any disposition of mind can either please Him more, or become us better, than that of being satisfied with all He gives, and contented with all He takes away. None, I am sure, can be of more honor to God, nor of more ease to ourselves. For, if we consider Him as our Maker, we cannot contend with Him; if as our Father, we ought not to distrust Him; so that we may be confident, whatever He does is intended for good; and whatever happens that we interpret otherwise, yet we can get nothing by repining, nor save anything by resisting. But if it were fit for us to reason with God Almighty, and your ladyship's loss were acknowledged as great as it could have been to any one, yet, I doubt, you would have but ill grace to complain at the rate you have done, or rather as you do; for the first emotions or passions may be pardoned; it is only the continu * Addressed to the Countess of Essex, after the death of her only daughter. ance of them which makes them inexcusable. In this world, madam, there is nothing perfectly good; and whatever is called so, is but either comparatively with other things of its kind, or else with the evil there is mingled in its composition; so he is a good man who is better than men commonly are, or in whom the good qualities are more than the bad; so, in the course of life, his condition is esteemed good, which is better than that of most other men, or in which the good circumstances are more than the evil. By this measure, I doubt, madam, your complaints ought to be turned into acknowledg ments, and your friends would have cause to rejoice rather than to condole with you. When your ladyship has fairly considered how God Almighty has dealt with you in what He has given, you may be left to judge yourself how you have dealt with Him in your complaints for what He has taken away. If you look about you, and consider other lives as well as your own, and what your lot is, in comparison with those that have been drawn in the circle of your knowledge; if you think how few are born with honor, how many die without name or children, how little beauty we see, how few friends we hear of, how much poverty and how many diseases there are in the world, you will |