own heart of his neglected duty to that departed boy,
we know not, but dreadful was the anguish he endured, and the mother
had the joy to perceive that his manner afterward was far more tender to
his remaining children, whom he seemed now for the first time to realize
he might not always have with him, to be neglected and put aside, as a
trouble and as a care, rather than as a precious gift, to be most
carefully trained up for God.

But all wondered at the perfect calmness of that afflicted mother. So
devoted--so saintlike--it would seem that she was in constant and sweet
communing with the redeemed spirit of her boy. No regret, no repining
escaped her lips, and many who knew how fondly she loved her children,
and had feared that this sudden blow would almost overwhelm her, gazed
with wonder at her perfect submission, her cheerful touching tenderness
of voice and speech. And though tears would at times flow, yet she would
say in the midst of them, "These are not tears of grief but of joy, that
my darling son is safe, and holy, and blessed forever. Tears of
gratitude to God for His goodness." And when hours of sadness, and of
longing for her absent one came, as they _will_ come to the bereaved at
times, a faint voice seemed to whisper in her ear. "Mother, you have
saved me, you have saved my soul!" And sweetest comfort came with that
never to be forgotten whisper from the dying bed of her precious child,
to sustain her in the darkest hour.

Fathers! Plead as you will, that you are full of care and labor to
support your families. Say it over and over, till you really believe it
yourself, if you please, that when you come home tired at night, you
cannot be crazed with the clatter of children's tongues. You want to
rest and be quiet. So you do, and so you should--but have you any right
to be so perfectly worn out with business, that the voice of your own
child is irksome to you? Try, for once, a little pleasant, quiet,
instructive chat with him. Enter for a few moments into his feelings,
and pursuits and thoughts--for that child _has_ feelings, that need
cherishing tenderly, for your own future comfort. He _has_ pursuits, and
you are the one to talk with him about them, and kindly tell him which
are right and useful, and which he would do better to let alone. He
_has_ thoughts, and who shall direct that mind aright which must think
forever, if not the author of his being? Ask of his school, and his
playmates, and see if y