that there it will feel no pain, and know no sorrow, and endure no want; that there it will be encompassed with an atmosphere of love—shielded evermore from all baleful influences, and never know the polluting touch of sin; that every thing which greets its senses there will be full of instruction and delight; that its eye will see none but beautiful objects, and its ear listen only to love's sweet notes. Such are the things which the New doctrine teaches, and whereof it gives us sweet assurance.
Now let that mother believe all this, and will she not derive support and comfort from it? Will she not find in it a balm for her wounded spirit? Will it not give her "beauty for ashes; the oil of joy for mourning; the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness"? Will she not dry her tears, suppress her sighs, chide her murmurs, and with resigned and trustful heart look up, and ask not—wish not—that God would give her back her child?
Nor is the instruction which the New doctrine imparts, less important than the comfort which it yields. Not only does it enable us to give up our little ones with more resigned and cheerful hearts, when God is pleased to take them from us, but it impresses upon us the importance of guiding, governing, and instructing them aright, while they remain with us. It shows us, that, if we would educate our children for heaven, we must seek to become heavenly-minded ourselves—must strive to be like the angels—must imitate their example. We must have our
