wars between Charles I. and the Parliament, several battles were fought at Chatsworth, and the house was sometimes in the possession of the royalists, and at other times was garrisoned by the troops belonging to the parliament. Marshall Tallard, who was taken prisoner by the duke of Marlborough, at Blenheim, resided during a part of his captivity at Chatsworth House.

All persons visiting Chatsworth are permitted to see the house, and to walk over the grounds. Many persons go from all parts of the country to see this splendid mansion, its beautiful conservatory, gardens, and park. Perhaps our readers will be disposed to conclude, that the owner of so magnificent a place must be very happy. We hope that he is happy, but if so, it cannot be on account of the possession of this noble mansion and princely domain; it must be from the possession of true religion. No earthly grandeur or riches can afford real happiness. Earthly things cannot satisfy the desires of the soul. The enjoyment of God's favour is happiness to the soul. short time life comes to an end; and those who are wise, will look upon earthly things as being lent to them only for a short scason; and will endeavour to lay up for themselves treasures in heaven, where there are scenes much more lovely than any earthly beauty or riches can produce. If our readers give their hearts to God, love and serve him, they will, ere long, dwell in the most glorious mansion of their Father's house in heaven; and be eternally happy in the presence of God.

In a very

A MOTHER'S DREAM OF HEAVEN.

THREE beautiful children made glad the home of a happy mother. Her love for them was intense, and her care never failing. They were in her thoughts all the day long and in her dreams by night. The youngest of these children was a boy. He had large deep blue eyes, and his long lashes, when he slept, lay beautifully adorning his lovely cheeks. Something in his face ever awakened in the minds of

those who gazed upon him, thoughts of heaven, and many said of him that he was but a stranger here, and would soon return to his own country. And such thoughts came, sometimes, to the happy mother, and then her heart trembled and grew faint.

At last what had been feared, befell the child. The Angel of Death came and removed him from his earthly abode to his heavenly dwelling-place, and the stricken mother bowed her head, and would not listen to the voice of consolation.

"God is good," were the words of one who sought to comfort her," and He afflicts us in lovingkindness."

"I will not believe," replied the weeping mother, "it was good to take from me my precious boy."

"He is with the angel-think of that. The great problem of his life is solved, and it is well with him. There is neither doubt, nor fear, nor anxiety on his account, for he is safe in the everlasting habitation of our Father in heaven."

The mother listened, and the consoler went on.

'No more grief, no more sorrow, no more pain! Think of that. Let not your thoughts droop with feeble wings about the dark and gloomy grave. He is not there. But let them rise on swift and sunny pinions to the beautiful dwelling-place of the angels. His decaying body alone fills the grave, but his pure spirit, that gave life and beauty to its earthly tenement, has gone to his better home. Would you have him back again? Had you the power, with a word, to call him to the earth, would you speak that word, now that he has escaped the long trial and suffering that comes to all who have made the journey of life? No, I am sure you would not."

The tears of the mother ceased to flow, and she bent near to him who spoke and listened more intently. He went on. "All children who die, are raised up in heaven and received by angels, who love them with the utmost tenderness. Your dear boy, though he has been taken from an earthly mother, has already found a heavenly one. And you have not really lost him, for he is present in your

thoughts, and you love him with even an intenser affection than before. To part with him is hard, for our natural feelings cling to those we love, and their removal brings exquisite pain But our natural feelings have in them the taint of selfishness, and it is needful that they should be elevated and purified; or, rather, that they should die, in order that spiritual affections may be born. And what are spiritual affections? The love of things good and true for their own sake. And such affections are not born unless natural affections are laid in the grave. The death of such affections is always accompanied by pain; but the birth of corresponding spiritual affections will be with joy. The deep sorrow you now feel is natural sorrow. Your heart is aching for its loss; and even while reason and religion tell you that this removal from earth to heaven is one of infinite blessedness to your boy, you mourn his loss and will not be comforted. But, it is for you to look up and feel an exquisite joy in the thought that you have added one to the company of God's angels. It may not be now; it can not be now; for the smiting of your natural affection is too recent, and the waters of affliction must flow for a time. And it is good that they should flow forth, in order that spiritual consolation may flow into your heart from heaven. But the influx of healing water must depend upon yourself. You must be willing to look up and to seek comfort from the only source whence it springs. You must be spiritually glad that your child has gone to heaven-that is, glad for his sake, and for those who are made happier in heaven by his presence. There is such a gladness-but it thril.s in a region of the mind far above the place where natural affections move-and it is full of that interior delight which fills the hearts of angels."

Thus spoke the comforter, and his words found their way into the mother's heart. She did not make a response, but her thoughts were filled with new images; and even in the bitterness of her sorrow, she tried to look away from her own loss and to think of all that her absent one had gained.

In the night following, as she lay slumbering on her

pillow which was wet with tears, a sweet dream, that was not all a dream, came to her. She saw before her a company of angels, surrounded by infants and little childrenthe latter dressed in white garments, with flowers blushing amid their clustering curls. They were in a garden, and the children were sporting with one another, and, ever as they drew near or touched the flowers that were springing around them, each blossom glowed with new and living beauty. Eagerly the mother looked for her precious boy, for she knew that he was in that company, and, as she looked intently, one of the angels who held a child by the hand, separated herself from the rest, and approached her. She knew her sweet one in an instant; and O! inexpressible delight! she knew the angel also. It was her own mother! Her mother, who had been taken to heaven when she was only a child, but whose gentle, loving face, had ever remained pictured on her memory.

O! the exquisite joy of that moment. Her own mother was now the angel mother of her beautiful boy. How sweet the smile that beamed upon her from eyes seen only in dreams for years! And as her lost darling sprung into her arms. and laid his head upon her bosom, a voice of exquisite melody, whose tones had come from afar off, many and many a time, since childhood, said—

"Daughter, be comforted! He was too pure, too gentle, too frail for earth. Life would have been a scene of pain and suffering; he would have been severely tried and tempted of evil, and perchance, might have fallen by the way. Therefore, in mercy he was removed to this heavenly land, where there is no evil to tempt, no pain to afflict, no grief to bow the stricken heart. Sorrow not for him, for all is well. He has been committed to my care, and I will love him with a tenderness made deeper for the love that is felt for you. A little while longer, and you will be called home. I will keep your darling safe for you until that time."

An angel's kiss then warmed the mother's cheek and she awoke. Heavenly light and heavenly music were in her chamber. Slowly the light faded, and the music grew fainter and more distant: not outwardly but inwardly

distant; and as she hearkened after it, bending her spirit towards heaven, she still heard them when earthly grief is hushed and her mind is elevated into heavenly tranquility.

From that time, joy mingled with the mother's sorrow. She believed the dream. To her it was no fantastic, but a vision of things that were. She had a treasure above, and her heart was there also. Love's golden chain had extended its links, and the last one was fastened in heaven. Daily, hourly, momently, she missed the one who was away, and longed to hear again the sound of his happy voice, and to look upon his beautiful face: but she knew where he was, and that it was well with him; and she dried her eyes and patiently bore her afflictions.-Life's Harvest Field, by T. S. Arthur.

INDUSTRY AND HAPPINESS.

IT is the duty of mothers to sustain the reverses of fortune. Frequent and sudden as they have been in our own country, it is important that young females should possess some employment, by which they might obtain a livelihood in case they should be reduced to the necessity of supporting themselves. When families are unexpectedly reduced from affluence to poverty, how pitifully contemptible is it to see the mother desponding or helpless, and permitting her daughters to embarrass those whom it is their duty to assist and cheer.

"I have lost my whole fortune," said a merchant, as he returned one evening to his home: "we can no longer keep our carriage. We must leave this large house. The children can no longer go to expensive schools. Yesterday I was a rich man; to day, there is nothing I can call my own."

"Dear husband," said the wife, "we are still rich in each other and our children. Money may pass away, but God has given us a better treasure in those active hands and loving hearts."

"Dear father," said the children, "do not look so sober. We will help you to get a living."