A Child's Face In Death

To me, few things appear so beautiful as a very young child in its shroud. The little innocent face looks so sublimely simple and confiding among the ter rors of death. Crimeless and fearless, that little mortal passed under the shadow and ex- — the mystery of dissolution. There is eath in its sublimest and purest image; no hatred, no hypocrisy, no suspicion, no care for the morrow, ever darkened that little one’s face; death has come lovingly upon it; there is nothing cruel or harsh in its victory.

The yearnings of love, indeed, cannot be stifled; for the prattle and smiles, and all the little world of thoughts that were so delightful, are gone forever. Awe, too, will overcast us in its presence; for we are looking on death. But we do not fear for the little lovely voyager; for the child has gone, simple and trusting, into the presence of its all-wise Father, and of such, we know, is the kingdom of heaven, Leigh Hunt.