am not quite alone. Around me glide
Unnumbered beings of the unseen world;--
And one dear spirit hovering by my side,
Hath o'er my form its snow-white wings unfurled,
It is a token that when death is nigh,
It then will wait to hear my soul on high!"

What afflicted heart will not respond with deep and grateful emotion, to
the following beautiful address of a bereaved pilgrim to his sainted loved
ones in heaven:--

"Gone!--have ye all then gone,--
The good, the beautiful, the kind, the dear?
Passed to your glorious rest so swiftly on,
And left me weeping here?

"I gaze on your bright track;
I hear your lessening voices as they go;
Have ye no sign, no solace to fling back
To those who toil below?

"Oh! from that land of love,
Look ye not sometimes on this world of wo?
Think ye not, dear ones, in brighter bowers above,
Of those you left below?

"Surely ye note us here,
Though not as we appear to mortal view,
And can we still, with all our stains, be dear
To spirits pure as you?

"Is it a fair, fond thought,
That you may still our friends and guardians be;
And heaven's high ministry by you be wrought
With objects low as we?

"May we not secretly hope,
That you around our path and bed may dwell?
And shall not all, our blessings brighter drop
From hands we loved so well?

"Shall we not feel you near
In hours of danger, solitude, and pain,
Cheering the darkness, drying off the tear
And turning loss to gain?

"Shall not your gentle voice
Break on temptation's dark and sullen mood,
Subdue our erring will, o'errule our choice,
And win from ill to good?

"Oh, yes! to us, to us,
A portion of your converse still be given!
Struggling affection still would hold us thus,
Nor yield you all to heaven!

"Lead our faint steps to God;
Be with us while the desert here we roam;
Teach us to tread the path which you have trod,
To find with you our home!"

What a comfort does this view of the pious dead afford the pious living. We
commend it now to you. What consolation to the bereaved parents is the
assurance that all infants are saved! This gives them "beauty for ashes,
the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of
heaviness." Your infant has gone to heaven; for "of such is the kingdom of
heaven." Zuinlius was perhaps the first who proclaimed salvation for