THERE is no flock, however watched and tended,

But one dead lamb is there!

There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended,

But has one vacant chair!

She is not dead,-the child of our affection,

But gone unto that school

Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And Christ himself doth rule.

In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion,
By guardian angels led,

Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution,
She lives, whom we call dead.

Day after day, we think what she is doing
In those bright realms of air;

Year after year, her tender steps pursuing,
Behold her grown more fair.

Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken
The bond which nature gives,

Thinking that our remembrance, though unspoken,
May reach her where she lives.

Not as a child shall we again behold her;
For when, with raptures wild,

In our embraces we again enfold her,
She will not be a child:

But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion

Cloth'd with celestial grace;

And beautiful with all the soul's expansion

Shall we behold her face.

LONGFELLOW.

THE CHILD TAUGHT OF GOD.

CHAPTER I.

Days of Health.

"What practice, howsoe'er expert,

In fitting aptest words to things,
Or voice the richest ton'd that sings,
Hath power to give thee as thou wert!"

IN MEMORIAM.

F all the family our Gertrude was the child of

OF

richest promise. All who saw her praised the tall straight form; and the bright face, where beauty, health, and goodness seemed to reign.

Honesty and

Her character was no common one. open-heartedness were united in her with the sweetest unselfishness and charity. The recollection of injury was never harboured in her peace-loving soul. Its habit was rather to kiss the chastening hand. Yet,

perfectly without fear, she always spoke out what was uppermost in her mind with frankness and truthfulness; so that an unfortunate remark, which ought to have been restrained, now and then brought down upon her a rebuke: and, in the buoyancy of her spirits, she would sometimes be thought a little noisy and troublesome. But these were her only faults. And after her first illness, and the loss of her usual strength, even these passed away; and left her so gentle in voice and manner, that every one seemed to be drawn towards her.

She was a fearless rider; and a companion and help to her brothers in their games. When a quick ride or race had heightened her colour, and made her large eyes sparkle, or when in the evening, in her pleasant way, so free from self-consciousness and affectation, she would talk and laugh with the guests, whose looks betrayed their admiration, we could not suppress the thought that she was very beautiful. And we ventured, in our fond but foolish pride, to look forward to what she might some day become, when time should have softened down the little awkwardness of youth, and brought out the delicate touches of womanhood. Yes! we sometimes thought there would not be her equal.

"A slumber did our spirits seal,

We had no human fears:

She seemed a thing that could not feel
The touch of earthly years."

Her governesses did not seem to understand her; and they consequently found her difficult to manage. They tried to restrain her, and keep her within the bounds of what they deemed lady-like propriety. But when a conquest was at length, and after much labour, achieved, and no outlet was allowed for her uncommon energy and activity, she drooped and paled, and was no longer her merry self. Her brothers in holiday-time noticed the change in their light-hearted little playfellow, and grieved over it. At their request lessons would be dispensed with for a while; and Gertrude would be allowed her liberty; which soon restored her spirits. But, notwithstanding these interruptions, she was so quick, and her memory was so excellent, that she was never backward for her age. In her own way she was extremely fond of reading. Indeed, the rapidity with which she devoured a volume made it necessary to limit her in this favourite occupation. Her mother would recommend her to turn her taste to some account, by reading useful works instead of so many stories: whereupon, with a

scrupulous conscientiousness, which increased as she grew older, she would wade through a dry book, nothing inducing her to omit a word.

She always delighted in being useful to others. At the age of eleven, she had a Sunday class of little children, and much enjoyed the hour she spent in teaching them. She might often be seen looking over old clothes, which she would beg from her brothers; and spending hours (though not naturally fond of her needle) in mending and patching them, to give away among the poor. Her face of happy ́satisfaction, as she exhibited an old cap or jacket, made new by her own fingers, did one's heart good to

see.

Her last governess left her in August 1858, when she had just completed her twelfth year; and for some months little or nothing in the way of study was allowed her. She certainly thrived under the return of freedom.