Southern Christian Advocate

BURIAL OF A CHILD.

"Along the crowded path they bore her now
Purely as the newly-fallen snow that covered it; whose day on earth had been as fleeting. -- Under that porch, where she sat, when Heaven in its mercy brought her to that peaceful spot, she passed again, and the old church received her in its quiet shade. They carried her to one old nook, where she had many a time sat musing, and laid their burden softly on the pavement. The light streamed on it through the colored window -- a window where the boughs of trees were ever rustling in the summer, and where the birds sang sweetly all day long. -- With every breath of air that stirred among these branches in the sunshine, some trembling, changing light, would fall upon her grave. -- Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. -- Many a young hand dropped in its little wreath, many a stifled sob was heard. Some -- and they were not a few -- knelt down. All were sincere and truthful in their sorrow. "The service done, the mourners stood apart, and the villagers closed around to look into the grave before the pavement stone should be replaced. One called to mind how he had seen her sitting on that very spot, and how her book had fallen on her lap, and she was gazing with a pensive face upon the sky. Another told how he had wondered much that one so delicate as she, should be so bold; how she had never feared to enter the church alone at night, but had loved to linger there when all was quiet; and even to climb the tower stairs, with no more light than that of the moon's rays stealing thro' the loop-hole in the thick old wall. A whisper went about among the oldest there, that she had seen and talked with angels; and when they called to mind how she had looked, and spoken; and her early death, some thought it must be so, indeed. Thus, coming to the grave in little knots, and glancing down and giving place to others, and falling off in whispering groups of three or four, the church was cleared in time of all but the sexton and mourning friends. They saw the vault covered and the stone fixed down. ...Then, when the dark of the evening had come on, and not a sound disturbed the sacred stillness of the place -- when the bright moon poured in her light on the tomb and monument, on the pillar, wall, and arch, and most of all (it seemed to them) upon her quiet grave -- in that calm time, when all outward things and inward thought teem with assurance of immortality, and worldly hopes and fears are humbled in the dust before them -- then, with tranquil and submissive hearts, they turned away, and left the child with God." Oh! it is hard to take to the heart the lessons that such deaths will teach; but let no man reject it, for it is one that all must learn, and is a mighty universal truth. When death strikes down the innocent and young, for every fragile form from which he lets the parting spirit free, a hundred virtues rise, in shape of mercy, charity, and love, to walk the world, and bless it. -- Of every tear that sorrowing mortals shed on such green graves, some good is born, some gentler nature comes. In the destroyer's steps there spring up bright creations that defy his power, and his dark path becomes a way of light to heaven." -- Dickens.