Whoever endeavors to delineate for the myriads of American children a faithful picture of the moral and religious character of those who from among themselves have been early made the subject of renewing and sanctifying grace, and early taken to heaven in their shining and beautiful garniture of holiness, attempts that which, rightly and successfully done, must confer incalculably precious benefits on the land of our affections.

"That the present memorial will prove a highly successful labor in this department of literature, the writer can hardly doubt. Its delineations of moral and religious character are not overwrought pictures of mere imagination, but portraitures touched with the pure colors of truth and faithfulness to nature. They are delineations of just such characters as have been not unfrequently seen, as we should always love to see in the children of our country. Obedience to parents from a principle of filial love; guileless and glowing sisterly affection; a holy regard for truth; a sacred tenderness to the reputation of others; a love of goodness and of the good for their own loveliness' sake;

unwearied industry and unspotted purity of habits; a quick sensibility of heart to the power of divine truth; a quenchless thirst for sacred knowledge; beautifully clear perceptions of the gospel method of salvation; true love for God; simple faith in Christ; unostentatious humility of mind-such are some of the most conspicuous traits of character in those lovely specimens of childlike mind which are here held up to view; and which, if drawn in faithful resemblances on the characters of all our children, would make the future destiny of our land brightly illustrious for every good. The course of the memoirs, too, abounds with passages of moral power which touch, as with a charmer's hand, the best springs of action, and open, with sweet resistlessness, the deep, clear fountains of religious sensibility within us.

"That the characters here delineated with such beautiful fidelity to nature were actually the character of the interesting children to whom they are ascribed, the writer is fully satisfied. Margaret and Henrietta almost grew up under the eye of her who has sketched their

lovely portraits. She had the originals glowingly present to her thought when she drew their likenesses."

Those lovely sisters now sleep in the quiet churchyard of their pleasant native place. Near their marble monument is a seat of the same material, where the mourning visitant may rest, and call to remembrance their loveliness, their piety, and the great love of Him who gave them the victory.

The small inclosure which is sacred to their ashes is adorned with shrubbery, flowers, and trees of unfading verdure. Two evergreens, gifts to them in their happy childhood, which bore their respective names, and grew in their own little garden, have been transplanted to their grave. There they stretch forth their vigorous arms, like tried and affectionate sentinels. In the boughs of one of them, a bird for successive seasons built its nest and reared its young. A walk there at summer twilight, where the fresh cool turf and the clusters of

the fair snowberry decked their pillow, while amid the woven branches hung that vacant nest, suggested the following stanzas.

THE NEST AMONG THE GRAVES.

The cloudless sun went down

Upon a churchyard scene,

And there a quiet nest I marked,

Hid in an evergreen,

As wandering 'mid the hallowed mound
With velvet verdure dressed,

I paused where two sweet sisters lay
In death's unbroken rest.

There was a marble seat

Beside that couch of clay,

Where oft the mournful mother sate,

To pluck the weeds away,

And bless each infant bud,

And every blossom fair,

That breathed a sigh of fragrance round

The idols of her care.

The unfledged birds had flown

Far from their nests away,

Yet still, within the imprisoning tomb
Those gentle sleepers lay;

But surely as those bright-winged birds
Forsook the sheltering tree,

And soared with joyous flight to heaven,
Such shall their rising be.

And now, to the fond parents whom it hath pleased God to have written childless, what shall we say? An affliction of no common nature has indeed been appointed you, and we

would bend beside you as you take the cup of sorrow, and pray that its bitterness may be salutary. He who has ordained it, will regard with pity the deep sighing of broken spirits, that amid their mourning ask, "Lord, what wilt thou have us to do?"

Your beloved and lamented ones were most agreeable and lovely in the eyes of others, as well as precious in your own. Were they less precious in His sight who created and watched over them from the beginning with a love more untiring and perfect than that of any earthly guide? What an unspeakable comfort must it be now to you, that the evidence of their early piety was so conclusive, and that through faith in a Redeemer, they were prepared for the last summons. Often will the echo of their sweet, serious tones revisit your memory, "Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of heaven."

Brief indeed was their interval of separation. Scarcely had the tear dried on the turf pillow of one, ere the other was called to share the same bed of repose. You know how they loved