284 THE PALE BELL OF THE HEATH. 



ed, justified, by a process equally rapid, mysteri 

 ous, and sublime, they pass before our eyes, and 

 glide away to the bosom of their God. Most hap- 

 py, most privileged of all created beings, save only 

 the angels who, having never fallen under the con- 

 demnation of disobedience, know not the drop of 

 bitterness that extorts a cry from the new-born 

 babe. 



When I first saw the little one, who is now vivid- 

 ly present to my mind, she was closely nestled in 

 her pillow, and T hardly caught a glimpse of the 

 features on which day-light had shone only for 

 three weeks. From time to time, I was told of 

 her singular loveliness, but she had numbered five 

 months before I was able to repeat my visit. 

 Never shall I forget the feelings that arose as I 

 gazed upon that child. The aspect of perfect 

 health, combined with strength and sprightliness 

 even beyond her age, seemed fully to justify the 

 sanguine anticipations of a devoted mother, that 

 she should successfully rear the babe ; but every 

 look that I cast upon it, brought closer to my heart 

 a conviction, such as I had never felt before, re 

 specting any infant, that it could not be formed foi 

 earth. It was not the exquisite loveliness of the 

 child, the perfection of its features, the transparent 

 brilliancy of its beautiful complexion, and the sin- 

 gular mouldings of its delicate limbs, which any 

 sculptor might have coveted to perpetuate in ala 



