Ah! where is the harp that was strung to thy praise,
      So oft and so sweetly in happier days? 
      When the tears that we shed were the tears of our joy,
      And the pleasures of home were unmixed with alloy? 
      The harp is now mute—­its last breathings are spoken—­
      And the cord, though ’twas threefold, is now, alas, broken! 
      Yet why should we murmur, short-sighted and vain,
      Since death to that loved one was undying gain? 
      Ah, fools! shall we grieve that he left this poor scene,
      To dwell in the realms that are ever serene? 
      Through he sparkled the gem in our circle of love,
      He is even more prized in the circles above. 
      And though sweetly he sung of his father on earth,
      When this day would inspire him with tenderest mirth,
      Yet a holier tone to his harp is now given,
      As he sings to his unborn Father in heaven.

Feb. 3.—­Writing to a medical friend of his brother William’s, he says, “I remember long ago a remark you once made to William, which has somehow or other stuck in my head, viz. that medical men ought to make a distinct study of the Bible, purely for the sake of administering conviction and consolation to their patients.  I think you also said that you had actually begun with that view.  Such a determination, though formed in youth, is one which I trust riper years will not make you blush to own.”

“Feb. 11.—­Somewhat overcome.  Let me see:  there is a creeping defect here.  Humble purpose-like reading of the word omitted.  What plant can be unwatered and not wither?”

“Feb. 16.—­Walk to Corstorphine Hill.  Exquisite clear view,—­blue water, and brown fields, and green firs.  Many thoughts on the follies of my youth.  How many, O Lord, may they be?  Summed up in one—­ungodliness!”

“Feb. 21.—­Am I as willing as ever to preach to the lost heathen?”

“March 8.—­Biblical criticism.  This must not supersede heart-work.  How apt it is!”

“March 12.—­Oh for activity, activity, activity!”

“March 29.—­To-day my second session (at the Divinity Hall) ends.  I am now in the middle of my career.  God hold me on with a steady pace!”

“March 31.—­The bull tosses in the net!  How should the Christian imitate the anxieties of the worldling!”

April 17.—­He heard of the death of one whom many friends had esteemed much and lamented deeply.  This led him to touch the strings of his harp again, in a measure somewhat irregular, yet sad and sweet.

      “WE ALL DO FADE AS A LEAF.”

      SHE LIVED—­

          So dying-like and frail,
          That every bitter gale
        Of winter seemed to blow
          Only to lay her low! 
          She lived to show how He,
          Who stills the stormy sea,
        Can overrule the winter’s power,
        And keep alive the tiniest flower—­
          Can bear the young lamb in his arms
          And shelter it from death’s alarms.