s of home were unmixed with alloy?
The harp is now mute--its last breathings are spoken--
And the cord, though 'twas threefold, is now, alas, broken!
Yet why should we murmur, short-sighted and vain,
Since death to that loved one was undying gain?
Ah, fools! shall we grieve that he left this poor scene,
To dwell in the realms that are ever serene?
Through he sparkled the gem in our circle of love,
He is even more prized in the circles above.
And though sweetly he sung of his father on earth,
When this day would inspire him with tenderest mirth,
Yet a holier tone to his harp is now given,
_As he sings to his unborn Father in heaven_.

Feb. 3.--Writing to a medical friend of his brother William's, he
says, "I remember long ago a remark you once made to William, which
has somehow or other stuck in my head, viz. that medical men ought to
make a distinct study of the Bible, purely for the sake of
administering conviction and consolation to their patients. I think
you also said that you had actually begun with that view. Such a
determination, though formed in youth, is one which I trust riper
years will not make you blush to own."

"_Feb. 11._--Somewhat overcome. Let me see: there is a creeping defect
here. Humble purpose-like reading of the word omitted. What plant can
be unwatered and not wither?"

"_Feb. 16._--Walk to Corstorphine Hill. Exquisite clear view,--blue
water, and brown fields, and green firs. Many thoughts on the follies
of my youth. How many, O Lord, may they be? Summed up in
one--ungodliness!"

"_Feb. 21._--Am I as willing as ever to preach to the lost heathen?"

"_March 8._--Biblical criticism. This must not supersede heart-work.
How apt it is!"

"_March 12._--Oh for activity, activity, activity!"

"_March 29._--To-day my second session (at the Divinity Hall) ends. I
am now in the middle of my career. God hold me on with a steady pace!"

"_March 31._--The bull tosses in the net! How should the Christian
imitate the anxieties of the worldling!"

_April 17._--He heard of the death of one whom many friends had
esteemed much and lamented deeply. This led him to touch the strings
of his harp again, in a measure somewhat irregular, yet sad and sweet.

"WE ALL DO FADE AS A LEAF."

SHE LIVED--

So dying-like and frail,
That every bitter gale
Of winter seemed to blow
Only to l