eight children thou didst leave behind, with all, or all but one of their partners, were partakers of that blessed Gospel which was all thy salvation and all thy desire,' and that three of thy sons were engaged in proclaiming it to others? Yes, God hath heard thy prayers, and "hath remembered his holy covenant," as we all are witnesses this day.

But before I close, I must say something more of the early habits and character of our venerable father. The little farm he once possessed, if it were not all ploughed over, was I am confident almost every foot of it prayed over. And some dried. apples from it, which a subsequent owner sent me a few years since, were to me "as the smell of a field which the Lord hath blessed." In all his intercourse with his neighbors in the way of barter and trade, he always seemed to be more careful lest their interests should suffer, than lest his own should,-looking on their side with his good eye, (if one was better than the other,) and on his own side with his evil one. And the same conscientiousness he observed in his dealings with a stranger. And, judging from my early impressions, I should think that he never spoke to a stranger, or seldom saw one, without lifting up his heart in prayer for him. He was full of the Millenium and of the Missionary spirit, long before the existence of the Missionary Herald, or of the American Board, or of the Panoplist evenand even before the Connecticut Missionary Society sent their Missionaries away off to the distant regions of Ohio-praying daily for both Jews and Gentiles-saying with the Psalmist, "Let the people praise thee, O God; let the people praise thee, all of them"-and being like his uncle Solomon Goodell, readyand desirous to contribute something for the spread of the gloririous Gospel long before he had an opportunity for so doing. It must now be twenty-five or twenty-six years since I left my studies at Andover for a few weeks, and rode through the country to obtain evidence that he was a soldier of the revolution; since which time he has lived on his pension of ninety-six dollars a-year. And who knows but He, "who keepeth covenant and mercy," had special reference to him when he stirred up Congress to pass that pension law! He served three years in

the revolutionary war; and I was struck with the fact you communicated of its being early on the morning of the memorable 4th of July, amidst the roaring of cannon, that he slept in peace. And though to his children he left none inheritance, no not so much as one cent, yet in his godly example and prayers he has left them the very richest legacy which any father ever bequeathed his children. And I have often thought, that should Jehovah address us as he did his people of old, instead of calling himself the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and Jacob, he would call himself the God of our own father. O how little do good neighbors, who showed such kindness to the living and to the dead of our family, know what a rich father we had!

"My boast is not that I deduce my birth

"From loins enthron'd and rulers of the earth;
"But higher far my proud pretensions rise,
"The son of parents passed into the skies."

Yes, it is a rare privilege we have all enjoyed in being descended
from such parents. They were the children of the Great King.
They belonged to the royal family. Their names were on the
catalogue of princes, and of those that live for ever. They daily
walked abroad with the conscious dignity of being heirs to a
great estate, even an incorruptible inheritance. And they have
now gone to sit down with Christ on his throne.
"And they
shall hunger no more, neither shall they thirst any more." O
how I love to look back and see how, with no ambitious aspir-
ings after worldly gain, or pleasure, or honor, they humbly
walked with God! how from day to day they deliberately
sought both for themselves and for their children, first of all "the
kingdom of God and his righteousness!" and how in this scoff-
ing world they were so united to Christ as apparently to have
no separate interest or existence-it not being so much "they
that lived, as Christ living in them!" It was doubtless a mercy
to them that they never at any time possessed much of this
world's goods, and that through much illness in the family, they
were at times reduced to great straits; and a mercy to us that
we had to bear the yoke in our youth, and often to make our
meal of salt and potatoes; and I have often found it in my heart

to bless God for all his dealings with them and with us. And O may neither we, nor our children, ever be left unchastised and uncorrected by him! Let us choose rather to receive for our profit those chastenings, however severe, whereof all the sons of God are partakers. And why, my brother, should any of us be anxious to leave our children any other inheritance than was left to us? If we leave them this, and they avail themselves of it, then, though we be dead, they shall still have a Father who will provide for them, and take care of them, and bless them, and make them happy for ever.

And is our father gone, who prayed for us so much? Let us be thankful that the Great Intercessor "ever liveth to make intercession for us ;" and more than ever let us avail ourselves of his mediation and atonement, of his grace and strength, and of his righteousness and spirit; and more than ever let us now pray for ourselves and for all our brothers and sisters. And is our father dead? Let us arise and give thanks to God that good men may die. Let us give special thanks that our father and mother are no longer

"In this world of sin and sorrow."

And let us be more careful than ever to "be followers of those who through faith and patience are now inheriting the promises," being sinners saved by grace alone.

Thus prays your ever affectionate brother,

THE GRAVE.

W. GOODELL.

BY REV. J. N. DANFORTH.

I have spoken of HOME-the home of the living. Next let me speak of the GRAVE-the home of the dead. It is pleasant to contemplate this portion of our existence; I say not life, for there is no life in the grave, but the body exists there. Different forms indeed does it assume, but it is imperishable. No evidence

has ever been produced of the annihilation of matter. That dust, too, is very precious to survivors. The communing spirit has fled, but the mortal body is left with us. Those features are not at once obliterated, but remain sufficiently long to impress on the memory of the heart an exact and indelible image. So we have our dead with us. Go to the grave. Beneath that grassy mound reposes the venerable form of your father. It is a sacred spot. Speak not while there, but let meditation ascend the intellectual throne. Let the soul silently question itself. Did I ever inflict a pang on that bosom which is now silent in the grave? Oh my Father in heaven, who dost never die, forgive the guilty waywardness of childhood. Or does my mother lie here? How lightly do the evening dews fall on the grave of this saint! Her peaceful heart throbs no more for the young and the thoughtless. My mother! "Where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried." The grave is voiceless, yet from this peaceful retreat I seem to hear a mother's voice, saying, "Meet me in the better land." David the king would have lavished his royal favors on Barzillai, whom he urged to come to the city and the palace; but the good old octogenarian loved his home and the graves of his fathers. "May I die in mine own city," said he, " by the grave of my father and my mother." Yes, you spoke the language of nature. So would filial affection have it. I can have but one mother. But pass we along. Here lies my sister. She was a gentle creature. Often have the winning tones of that soft voice, like those of some angel-spirit, warned me from the brink of moral danger. She was a mildly-beaming star in that little sphere of home. Sister, I loved thee in life. I loved thee in death. Can I ever forget that last farewell-the final kindling of that dark blue eye, on which, ere it closed, a ray from heaven seemed to fall. I love this dust. Rest in peace. And here, too, is my child; the last, the least of mine, oh grave, which thou hast taken to thy cold embrace, but not the only one thou shalt have. We come apace to join our loved ones, not fearing either the sting of death or the victory of the grave; for the one is extracted, and the other is anticipated by Him who died that we all might live. Grave! thou hast many hostages. Thou shalt have all, but

only for the appointed time. Plant flowers here. Let the earliest buds of spring unfold their beauty near our dead. Let the last rose of summer linger in its sweetness here. And if the cold winds of autumn, sweeping over, shall lay them in the dust, they shall bloom again in the spring. So in the bright morning of the world's redemption, shall the mortal forms that repose beneath them spring to life and immortal beauty in the skies!

Youth's Cabinet.

HOW TO MAKE A HAPPY HOME.

It is not the imposing majesty of a sumptuous mansion, nor the hollow glare of gaudy furniture, nor the obsequious attentions of servants; nor even of children, that makes a home of home and keeps alive the sacred blessedness of a married life. No, but it is the steady exercise of those holy charities, that soothe the sorrows, and smooth the asperities of our nature. Those little evidences of sincere esteem, those spontaneous expressions of affection and tenderness, those unpremeditated smiles and tears at each other's joy or sorrow, that affectionate officiousness which volunteers more readily as service becomes more difficult, these are the things that give to home its purest and most powerful attractions; where these abound, the mind reposes in all the confidence of conscious safety, and in all the satisfaction of ample enjoyment.

Mutual respect and attention between man and wife are essential to render them respectable in the eyes of their domestics and children; and also to maintain that healthy flow of soul, that cheerfulness and buoyancy of spirit so necessary in bearing the ills and performing the duties of life. As kindness and respectful treatment are due to all persons, so they are specially due to ourselves as wife and husband; for we cannot love those whom we do not treat respectfully, nor can they love us in return. Let it then be a principle of established authority, like the laws