But it is as the temple of the soul that this structure excites our warmest regard and demands our highest interest. Though no man can fathom the depths of the mystery, yet we know that it is the habitation of an immortal principle-a principle with which it maintains so close a connection that the tone, and vigor and efficiency of the one depend in a great degree upon the condition of the other. Viewed in this relation how sacred does it become! How desperately audacious must be the hand that would dare to touch it with the finger of pollution! What reckless debasement, what sacrilegious depravity is to be found in the wanton dedication of its high and holy powers to dishonoring the great God who made it! And oh! ye who are sad because the time is coming when this mysterious connection must be severed, look but beyond the dark and silent river, array yourselves in purple, and rejoice as your ears may catch from the land of reunion the sweet, far-off strains of the harps that will stay in tune forever.

ONLY A CHILD.

Little Wellie was only a child. Yesterday we should have said is. Today we say was. What a wide chasm yawns between the boundaries marked by those two little words! What a fathomless ocean heaves and roars between the things that are

and the things that were! It is an ocean which no living man has ever passed. The bold mariners who launch their life-crafts upon its dark waters are heard of no more, and every day we watch our ships departing under full sail, and with longing eyes and yearning hearts, follow them into the hazy distance while all the time the white sails are shrinking and fading until soon the ships pass beyond the horizon and are lost to sight forever.

How fare the ships on the mysterious voyage? Do the winds rend their sails and the billows roll across their decks? Are they driven upon reefs and rocks and stranded upon wild inhospitable shores? Do fierce whirlpools rage in their path and suck them down to silent, unfathomable depths? Or do they reach with sails all spread some fair and flowery shore and anchor in some safe and placid harbor where the spicy breezes blow and the tempests never rise?

Alas! those ships are laden with the rich treasures of the heart, with the fondest hopes of this earthly life; and we stand here on this earthly shore and gaze on the distant horizon and vainly strive to penetrate the shadows beyond. "The passionate heart cries out to know the truth," but the truth still lies hidden in the dark mysteries that forever elude our mental grasp. From the ashes of desolation we gaze with mingled dread and won

der, and we hope against all palpable evidence, that somehow, "good is the final goal of ill."

Only a child! Only a few months of unconscious infancy, then a short period of unfolding intelligence; then gleams of love and bright rays of baby-knowledge, then the rippling laughter that cheered the heart, and the placid smile that shed a calm and holy light over the hallowed precincts of home; these are the memories that the little Wellies and Helens and Marys have left to linger like sweet incense around the family altar.

Little Wellie was only a child, and when he died the great roaring world surged on all heedless of any break in the rolling tide. And when the hearse passed through the streets and men stopped in their mad rush to ask who was dead, the answer was "only a child;" and the throng rushed on in the pursuit of gain or pleasure and thought of the child no more. There was no lull in the busy hum, there was no break in the living tide, for it was only a child that the hearse carried through the dusty streets out to quiet and beautiful Oakland. in the years to come when the little mound shall have settled down to a level with the surrounding surface, and there shall be nothing but two little stones to mark the spot where the child was laid, men and women will tread carelessly about the grave and perchance some one will say, "This was only a child."

And

Yes, only a child; a child that went in the morning when the shadows were fleeing to the west and the day-beams were streaming up the eastern sky-when the birds were singing their early morning songs and the stars were going to God-then the child life took wings and the little cradle after weeks of rocking stood still, and silence and awe and darkness settled down upon a household where joy and hope and sunshine were wont to dwell.

Only a child! Yet the child had become a part of far-reaching plans and impressed its beautiful image on all the hopes that tinge the on-coming years with the roseate hues of promise. Only a child! Yet its tiny hands had clasped the heart strings of love with a grasp that will never be loosed while the citadel of life may stand and memory may hold her sway; and when it died. strong men wept, who had not wept before for years, and the loving hearts of devoted women were melted with passionate and inconsolable grief, and darkness and desolation came down like a pall on the home which, but yesterday, was radiant with happiness and love.

Oh! ye whose homes have been darkened and whose hearts have been made desolate because little Wellie, or Helen, or Mary has departed! Strain your eyes and peer still deeper into the shadows, and you shall catch the gleams from the lighthouse near the distant shore. Summon to your aid

all the resources of your faith, and ye shall hear the Master saying, "Suffer little children to come unto me and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven." And of this rest assured. When time shall have tinged your locks with gray, when rolling years shall have brought great changes upon all that surrounds you, when your steps shall have become tottering and feeble and the old home, which has been blessed with love through many a changeful year, shall have become overgrown with moss and vines-then a sweet child face, which never changes through all the shifting scenes of earth, shall peer at you out of the darkness and cheer your hearts with its real, living presence.

CHRISTMAS.

Away back in the far past-so far back that the mind of man is lost in the mists and shadows of dead ages and grows weary in the vain effort to comprehend the countless intervening centuries, shepherds watched and guarded their flocks on the plains of Bethlehem in Judea. In the darkness of the night while they kept their lonely vigil a bright light suddenly shone out around them and the angel of the Lord appeared unto them with the glad message: "Behold, I bring you tidings of great joy. Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, good will toward men." It was the occasion of the