ONDER white stone, emblem of the innocence it covers, informs the beholder of one who breathed out its tender soul almost in the instant of receiving it. There, the peaceful infant, without so much as knowing what labor and vexation mean, "lies still and is quiet; it sleeps and is at rest." What did the little sojourner find so forbidding and disgustful in our upper world, to occasion its precipitate exit? 'Tis written, indeed, of its suffering Saviour, that when he had tasted the vinegar mingled with gall, he would not drink. And did our new-come stranger begin to sip the cup of life; but, perceiving the bitterness, turn away its head, and refuse the draught? Happy voyager! no sooner launched, than arrived at the haven! But more eminently happy they, who have passed the waves, and weathered all the storms of a troublesome and dangerous world! who, "through many tribulations, have entered into the kingdom of heaven;" and thereby brought honor to their divine Convoy, administered comfort to the companions of their toil, and left an instructive example. Highly favored probationer! accepted, without being exercised! It was thy peculiar privilege, not to feel the slightest of those evils which oppress thy surviving kindred; which frequently fetch groans from the most manly fortitude or most elevated faith. The arrows of calamity, barbed with anguish, are often fixed deep in our choicest comforts. The fiery darts of temptation, shot from the hand of hell, are always flying in showers around our integrity. To thee, sweet babe, both these distresses and dangers were alike unknown. Consider this, ye mourning parents, and dry up your tears. Why should you lament that your little ones are crowned with victory, before the sword is drawn or the conflict begun? Perhaps, the Supreme Disposer of events foresaw some inevitable snare of temptation forming, or some dreadful storm of adversity impending. And why should you be so dissatisfied with that kind precaution, which housed your pleasant plant, and removed into shelter a tender flower, before the thunders roared; before the lightnings flew; before the tempest poured its rage? At the same time, let survivors, doomed to bear the heat and burden of the day, for their encouragement reflect, that it is more honorable to have entered the lists, and to have fought the good fight; before they come off conquerors. They who have borne the cross, and submitted to afflictive providences, with a cheerful resignation; have girded up the loins of their mind, and performed their Master's will, with an honest and persevering fidelity; these, having glorified their Redeemer on earth, will, probably, be as stars of the first magnitude in heaven. THE CHINESE EXCELSIOR. FROM "THE BOY TRAVELERS." HAT nightee teem he come chop-chop He cally flag with chop so nice- 'He muchee solly: one piecee eye He talkee large, he talkee stlong, Too muchee culio; allee same gong.Top-side Galah! 'Insidee house he can see light, And evly loom got fire all light; He lookee plenty ice more high, Insidee mout'h he plenty clyTop-side Galah! 'Ole man talkee, "No can walk, Bimeby lain come, velly dark; Have got water, velly wide!" 44 T'hat young man die : one large dog see FATHER TIME'S CHANGELING. O A STORY TOLD TO GRACIE. NE day in summer's glow, Not many years ago, A little babe lay on my knee, With rings of silken hair, And fingers waxen fair, In sudden, strange surprise We met each other's eyes, Asking, "Who stole our pretty babe away?" We questioned earth and air, Tiny and soft, and pink as pink We never found it from that ummer day. could be. We watched it thrive and grow Ah me! We loved it so And marked its daily gain in sweeter charms; It learned to laugh and crow, And play and kiss us-soUntil one day we missed it from our arms. But in its wonted place There was another face A little girl's, with yellow curly hair And the sweet babe we lost fair. He rules the world they say; He took my babe away Whether I would retrace the four years' My precious babe-and left me in its place UR revels now are ended. These, our As I foretold you, were all spirits, and The solemn temples, the great globe itself, As dreams are made of, and our little life The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, Is rounded with sleep. |