MY MOTHERS GRAVE.
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remember vividy the circumstances of her
departure. Consumption had already done its
powerful work. Unlike many who are smitten
with this disease, she preferred to die in the bo-
som of her family. Why should the stag, pier
ced to the heart in his own thicket seek refuge
in the deeper galdes TO bleed and die? 1t is a
wrong idea, this, Of searching in a land of sran-
gers for health which lis clean gone forever"
How many are thus yearly cut down in the
midst of tlsir wanderings' In some dcsolate
chamber, they lie in the agones of death. No
soft hand presses their brow; no familiar voice
whispers in the ear no cherished friend per-
forms their funeral obsequies. Death is indeed
bitter, under such circumstances being without
its usual aIleviations. 1t is a sweet consolation
to die at home.


"On some fond breast the parting soul relies,


Some pious drops the closing eye requires;


Even from the tomb the voice Of nature cries.


Even n our ashes live their wonted fres.''