For the bright and guardian angel
      Who beholdeth the Father’s face,
    Doth stand as a sentinel watching
      O’er the dear one’s resting-place;

    Doth stand as a sentinel guarding
      The dust of the precious dead,
    Till at length the trumpet soundeth,
      When the years of the world are sped;

    And the throng which can not be numbered
      Put on their garments of white,
    And gird themselves for the glory
      Of a realm that hath no night.

    And so he is gone, the darling,
      And the dream so fair and vain,
    Whose light has faded to darkness,
      We shall never dream again!

    Never?  Is the earth the limit
      To bright and beautiful hope? 
    If the world brings not fruition,
      Must we in darkness grope?

    O no!  There is expectation
      Which the grave can not control;
    There is boundless infinite promise
      For the living and deathless soul.

    And the darling who left us early
      May yonder grow a man;
    In deeds of the great hereafter
      He may take his place in the van.

    O, if thine is the bitterest mourning,
      Mourning for an only son,
    Believe that in God, the Giver,
      Our darling his course begun;

    Believe that in God, the Taker,
      His course forever will be;
    For this is the blessed comfort,
      The comfort for thee and me.

    Yea, this is the blessed comfort
      In sorrow like that of yore,
    When the beautiful “flowers of the martyrs”
      Went to bloom on another shore.

* * * * *

LII.

LA FAYETTE.

(BORN 1757—­DIED 1834.)

THE FRIEND AND DEFENDER OF LIBERTY ON TWO CONTINENTS.

In the year 1730 there appeared in Paris a little volume entitled “Philosophic Letters,” which proved to be one of the most influential books produced in modern times.

It was written by Voltaire, who was then thirty-six years of age, and contained the results of his observations upon the English nation, in which he had resided for two years.  Paris was then as far from London, for all practical purposes, as New York now is from Calcutta, so that when Voltaire told his countrymen of the freedom that prevailed in England, of the tolerance given to religious sects, of the honors paid to untitled merit, of Newton, buried in Westminster Abbey with almost regal pomp, of Addison, secretary of state, and Swift, familiar with prime ministers, and of the general liberty, happiness, and abundance of the kingdom, France listened in wonder, as to a new revelation The work was, of course, immediately placed under the ban by the French Government, and the author exiled, which only gave it increased currency and deeper influence.