ent down,
and then John renewed the conversation which was on the apparent cruelty
of children being born to live a short time and then leave Earth by the
inscrutable gate of Death.

"It seems to be so needless, so useless," said Jane.

"Not so," the curate answered. "Let me repeat two verses of an ancient
Syrian hymn, written A.D. 90, and you will learn what the earliest
Fathers of the Church thought of the death of little children.

"The Just One saw that iniquity increased on earth,
And that sin had dominion over all men,
And He sent His Messengers, and removed
A multitude of fair little ones,
And called them to the pavilion of happiness.

"Like lilies taken from the wilderness,
Children are planted in Paradise;
And like pearls in diadems,
Children are inserted in the Kingdom;
And without ceasing, shall hymn forth his praise."

"Will you give me a copy of those verses?" asked Jane with great
emotion.

"I will. You see a little clearer now?"

"Yes."

"And the glory and the safety for the child? Do you understand?"

"I think I do."

"Then give thanks and not tears because the King desired your child, for
this message came forth from Him in whom we live and move and have our
being: 'Come up hither, and dwell in the House of the Lord forever. The
days of thy life have been sufficient. The bands of suffering are
loosed. Thy Redeemer hath brought thee a release.' So she went forth
unto her Maker. She attained unto the beginning of Peace. She departed
to the habitations of just men made perfect, to the communion of saints,
to the life everlasting."

In such conversation the evening passed and all present were somewhat
comforted, yet it was only alleviation; for comfort to be lasting, must
be in a great measure self-evolved, must spring from our own
convictions, our own assurance and sense of absolute love and justice.

However, every sorrow has its horizon and none are illimitable. The
factory bell rang clearly the next morning, and the powerful call of
duty made John answer it. God had given, and God had taken his only
child, but the children of hundreds of families looked to the factory
for their daily bread. Yea, and he did not forget the contract with God
and his father which bound him to the poor and needy and which any
neglect of business might imperil. He lifted his work willingly and
cheerfully, for work is the oldest gospel God gave to man. It is good
tidin