"Your sweet Amy was an unearthly child. There was an indescribable something about her that made one feel so. I well remember saying to myself on your previous bereavement: "I should have thought it would have been Amy!" Do you remember one day she crept to my side, mounted my knee, and gave me a soft sweet kiss of peace? I felt as if an angel's wing had touched me in passing. But, (he kindly adds,) I am making the tears to flow, may they ease and disburden the heart-they are not tears without hope. He that is the light of life is shining on them, and they sparkle. Yes, in your deep mourning, and amid darkness and bereavement around, are not your spirits seeking the light shining as it were in a dark place, conscious that Amy and Rosalie are in the region of that light? and do you not summon up faith to say "We shall go to them, but they shall not come back to us?" (and

then he adds further, "Dear sorrowing parents, God has saved Amy from all evil, and that sweet one, which you in infirmity, might have made a toy or an idol, He hath changed into one of his Jewels."

One kind friend says, on hearing of Amy's death-"Is that sweet child really gone, who sang Hymns to me till I wept again?

I asked a dear friend, (who had lived with us for some time, and knew Amy and Rosalie well,) whether she could tell me anything about Amy having once accused herself of telling untruths, and what was She writes thus in reply :

the cause.

"The time you speak of, about dear Amy's condemnation of herself, I well remember, she accused herself of having told nurse falsehoods, which the latter distinctly denied; and it proved to be her conversation while at play. You remember how sensitive her conscience al

ways was, and how ready she was to blame herself. I often think, with so much pleasure, of her habit of praying, and laying every sin, or fancied sin, and every thought before God, and always seeking help-how she controlled her temper by that means; and how a few minutes, to give her time for prayer, always brought her to me, herself again, and sorry for her fault. I often think, too, of her love for Bible History, and her preference for that, above every other lesson; she was never so attentive as when learning it, and never remembered anything so well. Dear little Rosie too,

-cannot you fancy you hear her repeating it now? It was always her reward, you know, if she had said her lessons well, and the strongest inducement I could hold out to her to say them. Indeed your memory of them is precious; and this, above all other, their fitness for their present happiness, and their love

for their God. And then too, there is so much sweetness, and depth of affection, so much docility, and obedience in both, of which to treasure the memory. They were so fond, and affectionate together, it is meet they should enter Heaven together!"

How much the dear children loved this kind friend, words will not tell. Little Amy often talked of the delight of seeing her again, as she hoped to have done when she went to the south. But our Heavenly Father willed it otherwise.

A dear Cousin writes thus :-" While your heart bleeds, and you mourn over the loss of these precious ones, you will still bless God that they are safe for ever; no more pains-no more conflicts-no more sickness, with the harps of God in their hands, they tune His praises : for are they not among the countless number, who surround His throne, singing

everlasting songs of praise? Surely they are for ever blessed, for ever happy.

"Accustom yourself to look within the veil, with the eye of faith to see your little darlings clad in the white robes of their Saviour's righteousness, joining in Angels' songs, and happy beyond all that you can conceive of happiness. • The time is short,' soon, soon, we shall meet our lost ones, the links broken on earth, will be reunited in Heaven, and we shall bless God for those very chastenings, which His own love saw good to send upon us."

How affectionately do all her dear Aunts that knew her, speak of our precious Amy. She gained all hearts.

Her dear Aunt L. G

her letters, says :

in one of

"Our darling Amy is safe for ever, and how much happier than even your love could make her. She is now where her heart was; she never seemed to me