TIME and Patience!  These are Angels
    By our Heavenly Father sent;
  Whispering to our restless spirits,
    “Cease to murmur—­be content;
  God, who is thy truest friend,
  Doth our aid in trials send.

  When thy weary spirit faileth,
    ’Neath the weary cross it bears,
  God is not unmindful of thee—­
    He is listening to thy prayers;
  From His children’s tearful pleading
  He will never turn unheeding!”

  Heart of mine!  Trust thou these Angels;
    Lean on Patience, and be calm;
  Trust in Time, who is preparing
    For thy grief a spirit-balm;
  God is merciful, and He
  Gave them charge concerning thee.

OURS, LOVED, AND “GONE BEFORE.”

  The light of her young life went out,
    As sinks behind the hill
  The glory of a setting star;
    Clear, suddenly, and still.

  —­WHITTIER.

YOU ask me to tell you of her, the sweet friend we have loved and lost.  You impose on me a difficult task; I find it so harrowing to my feelings, and I also find that my pen is inadequate to the tribute my heart would pay.

I would that the privilege of knowing and loving her had been yours, for to know her was to love her.

In former letters I told you something of her; how she came to us a lovely bride of just nineteen summers; how anxiously we looked for her first appearance in church, for they arrived late Saturday evening, and no one had seen her.  I told you how my heart went out to her as I looked on her sweet, bright, yet somewhat timid face; there was a perfect witchery in her eyes.  I felt that I could gaze into them for ever; there was about them a spell, a fascination that I have never seen in others; they laughed as they looked at you, and yet they were not merely laughing eyes; perhaps the long, drooping lashes somewhat modified the expression, and helped to give the peculiarity so strikingly their own.

Her dress and whole appearance were captivating; the simple light straw hat, with the little illusion veil, and the pure white dress fitting so prettily the slender form.  I could hardly wait for the next day, so anxious was I to see and speak with her, for I loved her already.

I had been prepared to love her, for our young pastor had told us much of his future bride.  You know our house was one of his homes, and to us he had spoken often and enthusiastically of his Mary.  It seemed to me that first Sabbath, that his prayers were particularly impressive, and his thanks to the Author and Giver of every perfect gift unusually appropriate; he seemed overpowered by a weight of gratitude and love.

How I admired the two as I glanced from one to the other!  And I know that many prayers went up from that assembled congregation for long life and blessings on them.

It was a beautiful home that had been prepared for her.  Her furniture had been sent on previous to their marriage, and our little band had vied with each other in arranging with a view both to taste and comfort.  How we did wish for a peep into her own home, to get a hint with regard to arranging her things, so as to be home-like!