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What a world to the parent there is in these few words! They recall the hours of brightest, freshest hope, and deepest gratitude. They express what has been dearest and happiest in life, and when Mr. Barclay, after a moment's pause, added in a firmer voice, "The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken away, - blessed be his name, it was the meek Christian triumphing over the rnan and father.

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'My children," he said, "it is finished. Now let us unite our hearts in thanksgiving to God for the life and death of your dear brother." They all knelt, while with a steady voice he poured out his heart. Memory, kindled by love, lighted up Charles's past life, and all, as it passed in review, was the subject, not of lamentation that it was gone, but of pious gratitude that it had been enjoyed. He blessed God for the healthful infancy of his son; for the obedience and docility of his childhood; for the progressive knowledge and virtue of his youth; and above all, for the faith in Jesus that had given effect to his life, and peace in the hour of death.

We have seen Mr. Barclay's home at its first consecration; we have seen it when the tender lights of blissful infancy fell upon it; when it was filled with the life, activity, and hope of joyous youth; when the poor and the orphan were gathered under the wing of its succoring charities; when pecuniary losses were met with tranquillity

and dignity; when social pleasures clustered round its hearth-stone; when sons and daughters were given in happy marriage; but never have we seen an hour so blessed, as that which bore the assurance that death hath no sting, the grave no victory, in the home of the Christian.

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