n of Truth. Think
of your child as destined to become, in the better world to which God
has removed him, a wise and loving angel. Picture to your imagination
the higher happiness, springing from higher capacities and higher uses,
which must crown the angelic life. Doing this, and loving your lost
darling, I know that you cannot ask for him a perpetual babyhood in
heaven."

"I will ask nothing for him but what 'Our Father' pleaseth to give,"
said the mother, in calmer tones. "My love is selfish, I know. I called
that babe mine--mine in the broadest sense--yet he was God's, as every
other creature is his--one of the stones in his living temple--one of
the members of his kingdom. It does not comfort me in my great sorrow
to think that, as a child, I shall not again behold him, but rays of
new light are streaming into my mind, and I see things in new aspects
and new relations. Out of this deep affliction good will arise."

"Just as certainly," added the friend, "as that the Sun shines and the
dew falls. It will be better for you, and better for the child. To both
will come a resurrection into higher and purer life."

V.

ANGELS IN THE HEART.

_THE_ heart is full of guest-chambers that are never empty; and as the
heart is the seat of life, these guests are continually acting upon the
life, either for good or evil, according to their quality. As the
guests are, so our states of life--tranquil and happy, if good;
disturbed and miserable, if evil.

We may choose our own guests, if we are wise. None can open the door
and come in, unless we give consent; always provided that we keep watch
and ward. If we leave wide open the doors of our houses, or neglect to
fasten them in the night season, thieves and robbers will enter and
despoil us at will. So if we leave the heart, unguarded, enemies will
come in. But if we open the door only to good affections--which are
guests--then we shall dwell in peace and safety. We have all opened the
door for enemies; or let them enter through unguarded portals. They are
in all the heart's guest-chambers. They possess the very citadel of
life; and the measure of their possession is the measure of our
unhappiness.

Markland was an unhappy man; and yet of this world's goods, after which
he had striven, he had an abundance. Wealth, honor among men, luxury;
these were presented to his mind as things most to be desired, and he
reached after them with an ardor that broke down all impedime