'Tis well it should be thus: our Father knows
The things that work together for our good;
We draw a sweetness from our bitte. woes-
We would not have all sunshine if we could.

The days with all their beauty and their light
Come from the dark and into dark return;

Day speaks of earth, but heaven shines through the night,

Where in the blue a thousand star-fires burn.

So runs the law, the law of recompense,

1

That binds our life on earth and heaven in one; Faith cannot live when all is sight and sense,

But faith can live and sing when these are gone.

We grieve and murmur, for we can but see
The single thread that flies in silence by ;
When, if we only saw the things to be,

Our lips would breathe a song and not a sigh.

Wait thou, my soul, and edge the darkening cloud
With the bright gold that Hope can always lend;
And if to-day thou art with sorrow bowed,
Wait till to-morrow and thy grief shall end!

And when we reach the limit of our days,

Beyond the reach of shadows and of night, Then shall our every look and voice be praise To Him who shines, our everlasting light. HENRY BURTON.

VACANT PLACES.

ONE by one the kind and gentle, loving spirits glide

away,

Who have done their life-work nobly, who have labored while 'twas day.

Kindred hearts are bowed in sorrow-these are missed from friendship's band,

Missed where they were wont to mingle, loved and mourned on every hand.

Voices silent, faces absent, that have given love and

light,

With their solid, kindly greeting, walking sweetly in the

right.

"Who will fill their vacant places? who the fallen mantle wear?

Who will cheer where they have gladdened? who like them the cross will bear?

Who will give the bread and water with a free and generous hand?

Who will minister glad tidings, love and peace throughout the land?

Oh! these lives, so good and useful, all so full of love and truth,

Who have well fulfilled their mission, from the dawning of their youth;

And have left us, passing meekly 'neath the Father's chastening rod.

Their example still may teach us deeper love and faith in God.

He alone can fill the places of the laborers called aside-Ere the fields are white for harvest He can wondrously

* provide.

From the ranks we least may reckon standard-bearers may arise,

While more humble duties others must perform, but not

despise.

Let us then not mourn too sadly, but with willing hearts of cheer

Strive to make our lives a blessing in the world of beauty

here;

And, like them, when work is ended, calmly, peacefully

await,

Knowing there is joy and gladness just beyond the

heavenly gate.

FRIENDS' INTELLIGENCER.

FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS.

WHE

HEN the hours of Day are numbered,
And the voices of the Night

Wake the better soul, that slumbered,
To a holy, calm delight;

Ere the evening lamps are lighted,
And, like phantoms grim and tall,

Shadows from the fitful firelight
Dance upon the parlor wall;
Then the forms of the departed
Enter at the open door;
The beloved, the true-hearted,

Come to visit me once more;

He, the young and strong, who cherished
Noble longings for the strife,

By the roadside fell and perished,
Weary with the march of life!

They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so meekly,
Spake with us on earth no more!

And with them the Being Beauteous,
Who unto my youth was given,
More than all things else to love me,
And is now a saint in Heaven.

With a slow and noiseless footstep
Comes that messenger divine,
Takes the vacant chair beside me,
Lays her gentle hand in mine.

And she sits and gazes at me

With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies.

Uttered not, yet comprehended,

Is the spirit's voiceless prayer,
Soft rebukes, in blessings ended,
Breathing from her lips of air.

O, though oft depressed and lonely,
All my fears are laid aside,

If I but remember only

Such as these have lived and died!

LONGFELLOW.

ETERNAL GOODNESS.

KNOW not what the future hath,

I Of marvel or surprise,

Assured alone that life and death

No offerings of my own I have,
No works by faith to prove;
I can but give the gifts He gave,
And plead His love for love.

And so, beside the silent sea,
I wait the muffled oar;

No harm from Him can come to me,
On ocean or on shore.

I know not where His islands lift
Their fronded palms in air;

I only know I cannot drift
Beyond His love and care.

BE TRUE.

HOU must be true thyself,

THOU

If thou the truth wouldst teach;

Thy soul must overflow, if thou
Another's soul wouldst reach;
It needs the overflow of heart
To give the lips full speech.