In the suburbs of the city of B. stands the beautiful residence of Mr.

James. It was a rural spot, as it was surrounded with all the beauties

of nature. There were rippling streams, and winding paths through the

green fields and woods, sunny hills and mossy rocks. Emily, the only

daughter of Mr. J., had all these pleasant scenes to enjoy, and every

thing to make her home happy. Her father owned a noble pair of grays

a very fine carriage, and she had the pleasure of riding with her

father whenever she chose. But Emily did not live altogether for her

own happiness; she was accustomed to go and see the people in the

neighborhood of her home, and if any were poor or sick she would

always try to benefit them.

Her mother had to put up many a bundle of nice things for her to take

to some poor family in need. She was also fond of the works of nature,

and would frequently spend an hour in walking alone in the shady rural

places in her town. One day, as the beautiful spring had just unfolded

its loveliness, Emily thought she would walk out and breathe the

delicious air. With a heart laden with good thoughts and with a quick

step she passed along the gravelled street and by the cultivated

grounds and fine houses, until she reached the green turf and wooded

slopes, and here paused awhile under the large old trees, and thought

of the wisdom, goodness, and love of God in giving us such a beautiful


On her route, where the river curved around the foot of a gentle

sloping hill in the shadows of old forest trees, was made a rural

cemetery; so pleasant were its quiet paths and its cool shades in

summer, that the living loved to wander there. Friends came there to

plant flowers upon the graves of dear ones they had lost.

Through a low ivy covered gateway of stone, Emily entered the quiet

place. There were no massive railings, and lofty monuments, and no

costly devices, but God had made this place very beautiful--flowers

were blooming along the well trodden paths, and around the last

resting places of the dead. Here and there arose a simple shaft or a

light column, and the graves of the household were bordered by a green

hedge or surrounded by shadowing trees.

As Emily passed through the familiar walks, she came suddenly to a

grave in the remote corner of the cemetery, beside which sat a

solitary mourner. A small white slab lay upon the centre of the green

mound and at its head grew a rose bush in bloom, bending, till its

weight of white buds and blossoms touched the long bright grass upon

the grave. Emily attracted by its simply beauty, and drawing near, she

stooped down and read upon the marble slab, "Dear Mina." Her young

eyes filled instantly with tears, for she knew that it was the darling

child of a lady who to her was a stranger. As she turned away from the

spot she met a lady approaching, who passed her and kneeled down

beside the grave. She thought she would speak to the lady, and with

tender sympathy she asked, "Was it your child?"

The lady, who was deep in thought, looked up at the sound of Emily's

earnest voice, and answered, softly, "yes; 'Dear Mina' was my only

child." This interview led Emily to an acquaintance with the sorrowing

mother, which caused her never to forget her morning ramble. She was a

good woman, and at the decease of Emily's mother became her Christian

companion and instructor.

I doubt whether he will find the way to heaven who desires to go

there alone: all heavenly hearts are charitable: enlightened souls

cannot but diffuse their rays. I will, if I can, do something for

others and for heaven, not to merit by it, but to express my

gratitude. Though I cannot do what I would, I will labor to do what I