stricken Julia-my little prattler Rufus, now sobbing as if to break his heart-or Charlotte, my fond pet, who is moistening you with her tears-or my good mother, alas ! her too? How can I depart from them all, leaving them no comforter? For Heaven's sake, speak!-what will become of them ?"

cure.

"Brother," replied Forrester, "what says the book of Holy Writ? does it not state that the Most High will protect the widow and the fatherless? Let your hope, then, rest on the God we unitedly worship, and all will be seAnd what speaks the oracle of Odd-Fellowship? It loudly proclaims that mutual relief is a leading office in our affiliation; that to visit the sick, relieve the distressed, to bury the dead, and educate the orphan,' is an imperative duty which Odd-Fellowship enjoins. Doubt no longer! The outstretched and charitable hand of the Order is at all times extended to the unbefriended, such as these, now fondly watching every lok and word of yours. Rest, then, in content! And what say our own lodge-laws, too? Ample provision is therein made for the bereaved and agonized consort of a departed brother; for his idolized and fatherless offspring; for his beloved and probably superannuated mother; for his parentless sisters. The icy grasp of misfortune is kept aloof from them; and should any of the unfortunate be called upon to buffet with the toils, troubles, and vexations of this life, a friendly eye contemplates the scene, and alleviates all further trials."

A light, pure as an emanation from Heaven, lit up the countenance of the dying brother, as he exclaimed, “I now die in peace! To your care I confidently intrust those that surround us. As you love your Maker, betray not the trust! I fear it not-and die content!" He summoned his wife, and children, and mother, around him, for a final adieu; and while his brethren of the Order were weeping sorrowfully by his side, he breathed a prayer to his God, and almost inaudibly articulating"My wife and children-will be-protected-and supported—I die happy!"-departed to a purer and a holier land.

And thus the Odd-Fellow died. His was not the death-bed of dismay or dread, but the gradual and winged flight of a soul filled with joy and delight. Benign Friendship supported-the gentle voice of Love cheered the dying man and immutable Truth consecrated the effort,

and immortalized the victory over the grave!

Thus discoursed Anna Thornton to her betrothed. In view of where they sat, arose a small but tasty cottage. Everything around, from the newly-whitewashed fence to the blooming honeysuckle, bore the impress of neatness and of care. Within the dwelling, the same cleanliness reigned. A cheerful and contented family were the inmates. Anna, pointing thereto, exclaimed: "William, there resides an Odd-Fellow's widow! From her have I learned the facts stated to you, and obtained an insight of

Odd-Fellowship. We will visit her together: and when you hear from her lips what the Order have done for her and hers and still do-your false idea of its contracted benevolence must vanish into nothing. Happiness is depicted in the countenance and deportment of every member of that interesting family—the only alloy being the loss of one ever in remembrance. Charity reigns in its mildest form; and Benevolence stands ever ready to give relief, without its being known by the meddlesome world.

"Almost daily," she continued, "similar cases occur in the annals of Odd-Fellowship and even others, where adequate relief has been tendered to a far greater extent, without pomp and without show, but in the kind spirit and feeling of that united brotherhood. How wide the contrast with the world! There, an ostentatious display of their liberality to the poor unfortunates whom they partially relieve, is generally made, while the wide-stretched. pinions of the Order will always protect those under its fostering wings, without a recourse to that humiliating measure."

The marriage of Seymour and Miss Thornton was consummated in a few weeks not, however, until he had been an eye-witness of the sublime principles of brotherly love. He lost no time in joining the Order; and he is now doing all in his power to disseminate far and wide the hallowed blessings of Odd-Fellowship.

NEW YORK, June, 1848.

THE TWO FUNERALS.

BY J. W. M'CUNE.

"T is early in the month of May;
And Lucy and her mother,
As is their wont each lovely day,
Are walking out together.

A funeral train comes down the road, With solemn step and slow;

The mourning-scarfs and banners broad Are waving to and fro.

Sad music swells upon the gale,

As nearer now they come;

The trumpet wakes its plaintive wail, And rolls the muffled drum.

Six bearers, side by side, uphold
The coffin's weighty dead;
The gloomy pall with ample fold
Swings slowly as they tread.

And close behind the mourners come,

In lengthened double file;

Their cheeks are wet-their voice is dumb

Their hearts are sad the while:

And symbols of some mystic tie

Are thick amid the throng;

And staves are craped, and crossed on high, And bibles borne along.

"Now who come here," said Lucy Lynne; "Mamma, what men are these?

So orderly they cross the green,

Toward the willow-trees!"

"Those are ODD-FFLLOWS marching there,

In full regalia dressed;

And on that sable bier they bear

A brother to his rest.

"We'll follow with them to the grave;

'Tis but a step or two;

And see how manly hearts behave,

To Love and Friendship true."

How fresh and green this grassy sward,

Beneath the shady tree!

Yes, lay him here! his lot was hard;
But now his spirit's free.

'Tis done: the funeral rites are o'er: Smooth down the broken sod:

On earth his face you'll see no more; *His soul is with his God.