and joyous bride, and passed the house that was then built for the
reception of the young mistress.

Here she commenced her first experience in the trials and duties of
house-keeping; and here were opened the deep fountains of a mother's
love. This had been for many years the theatre of her life, where she
had acted a conspicuous part in its changeful drama, and where still
linger many footprints time will never efface, for true it is,
the influence still lives, and will be transmitted to succeeding
generations. The scenes that were so familiar to her eyes, were now
hid from her sight, and she rested in the Cemetery, within a few feet
of the land that was once contained in their own farm.

One son, the eldest of the family, after being absent from home many
years, died in a land of strangers, and little was ever known of his
death or burial. The dear babe was left, far away, and the mother and
son slept side by side, in the Cemetery, waiting the time when other
dear friends shall come and, lay down by their sides in that quiet
resting place.

The tall trees stand waving in the wind, and seem beckoning the weary
ones of earth, to lay down beneath their cooling shades.

The silvery stream dances on, making sweet music in its winding
course, ever murmuring a sweet requiem to the dead. Birds warble their
matin songs in the branches, and the night dew water the graves with
their tears, while the winds sigh over the grassy mounds; and all on
earth must make their bed with them, and every step we take in the
journey of life, is a step towards the tomb, whatever other duty may
be performed. Solemn is the reflection that there is an open grave
before every one that lives, and were we so situated that we could
define our progress, and notice each day's approach to its confines,
we should feel sensibly that we were hastening on to join the pale
nations of the dead, and fill our respective places in the land of
darkness and shadow of death.

But we will leave the dear infant, the brother, and the mother, to
that rest that remains for the people of God; they have fallen victims
to consumption, with the vast multitudes that have fallen a prey to
the ruthless destroyer.

Memory brings up, upon her retentive tablet, the recollection of a
family that fell before its withering blight, ere the elasticity of
youth had passed away.

The first that died was a young wife and mother. She faded like the
early spring flowers, and soon h