useless; she became excited and reaching over to her mother, endeavored to arouse her, but was too weak. The ladies finally concluded to wake the parent, who immediately sat up in bed and looked at her daughter. The latter glanced full in her face for a second, and fell back dead. Her last look was in her mother's face-the first face she ever recognized, the last she ever saw. May we not hope that she shall recognize that face again, in the first dawning glories of the eternal day? An old gray-headed Scotch woman lay on her dying bed, and called again and again for her mother. Friends, kindred, family and associates were forgotten, the only word upon her lips, the only memory lingering in her heart, was "Mither." That mother had been sleeping in her grave for more than fifty years! and yet, like a weary child, the gray-haired woman, with her drawn countenance and withered heart, loved like an infant to nestle in her mother's arms. Mother, do you know the power that God has given you? You touch springs that may vibrate in the great beyond-keys that may awake eternal melody. You stamp your image first and deepest on the human soul. A surgeon, in seeking for a stray bullet that had wounded one of Napoleon's soldiers, pushed his probe near the region of the heart. "Go a little deeper," said the old veteran, "and you will find the Emperor." So when all other thoughts and memories and impressions are effaced, go a little deeper; at the bottom of all is found mother, and the only deeper thought is that of God! Mother, do your work well. Let prayers and smiles, and tears and kisses, and counsels and encouragements come from a mother as they can come from no one else, that at last you may lead your little flock to the heavenly fold, saying, "Behold I, and the children whom Thou hast given me." HE E who passes a day of his manhood without remembering his mother's eyes, as they looked to him in childhood, is losing the best part of remembrance. BEYOND. OND life's toils and BEYOND cares, Its hopes and joys, its weariness and sorrow, Its sleepless nights, its days of smiles and tears, Will be a long sweet life, unmarked by years, One bright, unending morrow. Beyona time's troubled stream, Beyond the chilling waves of death's dark river, Beyond life's lowering clouds and fitful gleams, Its dark realities and brighter dreams, A beautiful forever. No aching hearts are there, No tear-dimmed eye, no form by sickness wasted, No sighs for bliss untasted. No sad farewell is heard, No lonely wail for loving ones departed, No dark remorse is there o'er memories stirred, No smile of scorn, no harsh or cruel word To grieve the broken heart. No mortal eye hath seen The glories of that land beyond that river, Ear hath not heard the song Of rapturous praise within that shining portal; ROCK OF AGES. OOCK of Ages, cleft for me" "ROCK Thoughtlessly the maiden sung, From her girlish, gleeful tongue; Sang as sing the birds in June; Fell the words like light leaves down On the current of the tune "Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee." "Let me hide myself in Thee"- Sweet the song as song could be- Fell from lips untouched by care, |