Thy gentle mother, o'er thy rest an anxious vigil keeps,

Presses my hand, and points to thee, and sadly, sadly

weeps.

Thou art our very pulse of life, and must we lose thee now,

Just in the morning of thy youth, with promise on thy brow?

We'll miss our merry songstress, with her melodies of heart,

Snatches of music, sweeter far than ever framed by

Art.

We'll miss our winning playfellow, whose very glance was glee—

We'll miss our fairy dancer, with her motions light and free

We'll miss the glad "good morrow" and the prayerful "good night"

We'll miss the deep, deep beauty of those eyes so darkly bright;

Even here, as I watch over thee, they open on me

now,

Undimm'd and brilliant, as if pain had never press'd thy brow.

Yet, Beautiful, if God should call thy spirit from its

clay,

If from the cares and tears of earth he summon thee

Wilt thou not hover round that home, of which thou art the light,

Wilt thou not come to us in dreams, in the still hour of night?

Wilt thou not sweetly whisper thus, "Not lost but gone before ?"

Shall not the happy day arrive when we shall weep

no more?

Then in the better, brighter sphere, the lost of earth shall rise,

Enfranchised from this world of pain, to yonder glorious skies.

His will be done. What Time might bring if it had left us thee,

Lies hidden from our ken behind the veil of

mystery.

A thousand griefs might have been thine on life's

tempestuous wave,

Perhaps, in mercy, God would claim the boon of life

he gave.

Be still, my spirit, think of all His mercy leaves thee here

Friends, health, and hope to live for yet—all that the heart holds dear,

A happy home, though one bright gem be loosen'd from its zone,

The trusting love which, years ago made one true heart mine own,

One bud for hope to cherish, for pride to boast, is

left,

And, while I weep, I still can say, "I am not quite bereft."

R. Shelton Mackenzie, LL.D.

A MAN may be a giant among dwarfs, and yet

only a dwarf among giants.

PROSPERITY AND ADVERSITY.

PROSPERITY is the blessing of the Old Testament; adversity is the blessing of the New, which carrieth the greater benediction and the clearer evidence of God's favour. Yet, even, in the Old Testament, if you listen to David's harp, you shall hear as many hearse-like airs as carols; and the pencil of the Holy Ghost hath laboured more in describing the afflictions of Job than the felicities of Solomon. Prosperity is not without many fears and distastes; and adversity is not without comforts and hopes. We see in needle-works and embroideries, it is more pleasing to have a lively work upon a sad and solemn ground, than to have a dark and melancholy work upon a lightsome ground. Judge, therefore, of the pleasures of the heart by the pleasures of the eye. Certainly virtue is like precious odours, most fragrant when they are incensed or crushed; for prosperity doth best discover vice; but adversity doth best discover virtue.

Lord Bacon.

THE PLEASURE OF VIRTUE.

VIRTUE is not only seen to be right- it is felt to be delicious. There is happiness in the very wish to make others happy. There is a heart's ease, or a heart's enjoyment, even in the first purposes of kindness, as well as in its subsequent performances. There is a certain rejoicing sense of clearness in the consistency, the exactitude of justice and truth. There is a triumphant elevation of spirit in magnanimity and honour. In perfect harmony with this, there is a placid feeling of serenity and blissful contentment in gentleness and humility. There is a noble satisfaction in those victories, which, at the bidding of principle, or by the power of self-command, may have been achieved over the propensities of animal nature. There is an elate independence of soul, in the consciousness of having nothing to hide, and nothing to be ashamed of. In a word, by the constitution of our nature, each virtue has its appropriate charm;