is partly grown. 'A babe in the house is a well-spring of pleasure.'
Is it not so? Take one, or even both of these children, if the
mother dies. They are the little ones who are born upon the earth,
in order that they may become angels in Heaven. They are of God's
kingdom, and precious in His eyes. Nurture and raise them up for
Him. Come! oh, come with me to the bedside of this dying mother, and
say to her, 'Give me your babes, and I will shelter them in my
heart.' So doing, you will open for yourself a perennial fountain of
delight. The picture of that poor mother's joyful face, painted
instantly by love's bright sunbeams on your memory, will be a source
of pleasure lasting as eternity. Do not neglect this golden
opportunity, nor leave other hands to gather the blessings which lie
about your feet."

That earnest plea was echoed from the heart of Mrs. Endicott. The
beautiful enthusiasm, so full of a convincing eloquence, prevailed;
and the woman in whose heart the waters of benevolence were growing
stagnant, and already sending up exhalations that were hiding the
Sun of heaven, felt a yearning pity for the dying mother, and was
moved by an unselfish impulse toward her and her babes. Half an hour
afterwards she was in the sick-chamber; and ere leaving had received
from the happy mother the solemn gift of her children, and seen her
eyes close gently as her spirit took its tranquil departure for its
better home.

"God will bless you, madame!"

All the dying mother's thankfulness was compressed into these words,
and her full heart spent itself in their utterance.