frame in nature's last extremity. But "the Lord gave,”—and it is He who has taken. Death is but His commissioned messenger; and although to nature's dim vision, his shafts seem to fly at random, faith's keen eye can look beyond the cloud, penetrate the veil, and see each arrow directed by the hand of Him who sits upon the throne, infinite in wisdom, and boundless in compassion and love. My dear friend, try to realize this truth, seek to recognize the hand of your heavenly Father in this stroke, it will check every rising murmur, it will hush into peace every swelling tumult within. although willing to admit all the keenness of your trial, I think when the first emotions of sorrow have subsided, and the mind becomes sufficiently calm for reflection, there is much connected with an infant's death calculated to soothe even a fond mother's heart. "Of such is the kingdom of heaven;" here is the first ground of comfort, the assurance of But their salvation. Yes, as those lines so well express it :— "If death's by sin, they sinned for they lie here, Now, my dear friend, what, let me ask, was the object of your soul's highest desire for the offspring of your love! was it not that it should number with the blood-bought, and live eternally in Paradise? say, as you pressed it to your fond heart, or watched it as it slept, has not the prayer been often uttered, "Lord, save my child, and bless my darling?" And as your eye looked onward and around, as earth with all its snares and sorrows, its trials and vicissitudes rose on your view, how often has the tear started and the sigh been heaved, lest amid life's shoals and quicksands, the frail bark should be engulphed or make shipwreck ere reaching the haven? and now, my friend, what is the case? The Lord has granted your highest petition, has realized your first desire, and by removing your child beyond the reach of temptation and sin, has removed all cause of anxiety and apprehension on his behalf. Happy babe! what an exchange for him, heaven for earth, pleasures for evermore instead of life's chequered and dangerous path, fulness of joy, in place of earth's transient pleasures and varied griefs. Privileged mother! the parent of an heir of glory!-her first-born before the throne of God, safe and safe for ever, with the Lord! Oh, dry your tears, my friend, and think upon your infant as he is, think of his raptures, his crown, his palm, and say, can you mourn his bliss? What attainments has he already made, how much more does he know than the most favoured saint below? True, you no longer behold his smiling face, no longer grasp him in your fond embrace, no longer listen with the thrill of pleasure, as his infant tongue first learns to lisp a mother's name, but he has exchanged a mother's for a Saviour's arms, and in place of delighting you with his looks of love, he gazes delightedly on the vision of God, and tunes his harp and strikes its chords, loud as heaven's highest archangel, to his Saviour's praise. Then chide your tears, and cease to mourn, look upward and rejoice, though he shall not return to thee, yet shalt thou go to him. Yes, my dear friend, and the interval is short, the longest life but as "a dream," a few more rising suns, a few more rolling years, and you shall meet him, never more to part; and think you not when stretched upon your bed of death, it will be more comforting to you to realize your child as before you in heaven, rather than leave him behind to buffet without you the waves of life's stormy and dangerous sea? Sweet babe! and hast thou reached the haven without a storm-hast thou been given the vic tory, yet spared the toils of conflicthast thou been translated from the cradle to the crown? O mistake not thy mother's tears, "Think not she envies thee thy crown; No, if she could, she would not call thee down; To thee she'll follow on, Leaning on Jesus all the way, Who now and then lets down a ray Of comfort from His throne." Farewell, my dear friend, Yours most affectionately, |