little garden she gathered powers to make a wreath to encircle her head, and an opening white rosebud to place in her hand, while at the head she placed the little vase that had been supplied with a boquet throughout the season, arranged by Lilly's own hands, and which was still preserved in its old place on her mother's work-table, and as tenderly cared for by Mrs. Claremont.
What sight is more touchingly beautiful than that of an infant shrouded for the tomb? How innocent is the expression of every feature! How symbolic the little hands, of a perfect trust in the great Father's watchful care over all, as they repose so naturally on the little bosom that will never again heave in anguish or shake with laughter.
The family circle seems scarcely complete without the presence of an angel child. While others bring care and anxiety, if not sorrow to their parents, one they may always point to as pure and undefiled, ministering in the Father's kingdom, to win them from the attractions of this world through this nearer glimpse of heaven, sometimes coming in the silent watches of the night, or sanctifying daily toil with the hallowed breath of inspiration. Not alone through joy and sunshine, but through pain and tears, love is strengthened; and we are false to the highest teachings of revelation, if for every tie that is severed, we do not make propitiation to the living by fresh efforts to raise the standard of family devotion above the petty bickerings and jealousies which are born of the passions, and can have no affinity with the higher faculties of the soul that are to fit her for the im-
