LESSON VII.

LET NOT YOUR HEART BE TROUBLED.

"The Old Man's Home," by Rev. W. Adams (Rivington). 'Channing's Discourse on the Future Life," vol. iv., p. 217.

Walter: I have been thinking, mother, about that little boy who was killed-I wish you would tell me something more about him and his little sister Susan and his mother. Where is his mother now?

Mother: My boy, I have been intending to tell you about her. I often went with my mother to see her after she lost her dear boy-I used to like to listen, when she was talking with my mother. I remember one evening particularly; she and her little girl were at our house-it was after tea, and little Sue had fallen asleep. I was sitting close by the window, getting my lesson ready for school next day. I don't think they remembered that I was there, as I sat with my book on my knee. But I was listening to all they said, and I have never forgotten it. The same thoughts that brought comfort to that sorrowing mother then, have many a time since brought comfort to me too.

She was telling my mother, I remember, about one of her neighbours-an old man-who had been thrown out of a cart after he had been drinking in a public-house, and so injured that he died the next day and I remember her saying, with tears in her eyes, "Oh! if my boy had staid with me, he might have been tempted into dangerous places-he might have chosen the wrong path, and been led away into sin! for he was not strong, and I could not always have kept him away from temptation. He might have gone lower and lower-further and further from God-and have died at last all unfit and afraid to appear before Him! So I thank God for taking him where he will be safe-where sin cannot tempt him any more—where his soul can grow unhindered. He always used to say he hoped God would let him go home to Him before he grew to be a man ;-for he felt so fearful lest he should not be strong enough to obey always the feelings that he knew to be best-he felt so afraid of getting by degrees to love low and selfish pleasures, and so being unable to rejoice in seeing God hereafter-unable to serve Him. Oh, I do thank God," she said, "for taking him to Himself, while he was still longing to go, and fit to go! and I believe," she added, after a minute's silence,-"I do believe He will not keep me long away from him. While he was with me, and I could see his face, he helped me to love goodness more and more continually: his soul led on my soul towards God-and I do believe

F

God will forgive my shortcomings and my past sins, and let me soon see my child again;"-and much more she said about seeing a Saviour whom she gratefully loved; and then, I remember, they talked about where the heaven was to which she felt her

boy was gone. 'I used to think it was up in the sky," she said; "it may be up in the sky-God has not told us—but I think the spirit of my loving child is still near to those he loved best on earth: I cannot fancy that any happiness can be so great to him as to be allowed to watch his mother and his sister, and to see the thought of himself leading them on and on, and helping them to get ready to join him in his glory, and, therefore, I feel as if his spirit were with me wherever I go-and that, by and bye, when God loosens my spirit, and severs it from this body, then I shall know and see that I am with my child again."

You wonder at my remembering all this so distinctly, Walter: I think what happened afterwards made me think more about it. Not many weeks after that evening little Susan died; and her spirit went to God, and her mother rejoiced to think that her children were together again. Before another summer came, God took pity upon the lonely mother, and called her too, to be with them, and to see them, where they were.

Others have gone to them, my child, since thensome as dear to me as they were to each other; and

you

and I, Walter, must be in earnest about getting ready to join them-where sin cannot enter. My child, we must both of us, all of us, strive to enter there for, wherever it be, I cannot fancy how it could be a happy home to any one of us, if our loved ones were not there with us or soon coming to us!

HEAVEN.

Happy heaven! no more tears,
No more sorrow, no more fears;
No more grudging nor regretting,
No more folly, no more fretting;
No more falsehood to assail,
No more sinking hearts that fail.
Oh! let us try to win it!

Oh! let us now begin it!
From earth upraise our noblest praise,
And love all things within it!

Happy heaven! where will come
The weary ones, as to a home;
God, our Father, still bestowing
Pleasures new and ever growing.
Happy heaven! there shall we
With all we love united be!

Oh! let us try to win it!

Oh! let us now begin it!
From earth upraise our noblest praise,
And love all things within it!

FROM "THE THREE SONS."

Rev. T. Moultrie.

I have a son, a third sweet son; his age I cannot tell, For they reckon not by years and months, where he is gone to dwell;

To us, for fourteen anxious months, his infant smiles were

given,

And then he bade farewell to earth, and went to live in

heaven.

I cannot tell what form is his, what look he weareth now, Nor guess how bright a glory crowns his shining seraph

brow;

The thoughts that fill his sinless soul, the bliss which he doth feel,

Are numbered with the secret things which God will not

reveal;

But I know (for God doth tell me this) that he is now

at rest,

Where other blessed infants be, on their Saviour's loving breast.

I know his spirit feels no more this weary load of flesh, But his sleep is bless'd with endless dreams of joy for ever

fresh.

I know the angels fold him close beneath their glittering

wings,

And soothe him with a song that breathes of heaven's divinest things.

I know that we shall meet our babe, his mother dear

and I,