It was a sad day in autumn, pale, withering autumn, when a little group of friends collected round the cradle of an infant of a few weeks, who had tasted the cup of life, and now was turning seemingly disappointed away from the bitter portion. The mild blue eyes were raised to heaven, and that heavenly angelic expression, so peculiar to expiring infancy rested upon his face, which was lovely in the extreme, though wasted by disease. He was tenacious of life, and lingered long in the embrace of the pale messenger, although the eye was dim and the wrist pulseless.

The father, mother, sister, and brother, and grandmother, sat watching the quivering flame that would rally for a few moments, then wane again. Near by sat the nurse, bearing upon her lap the little twin sister, who had her birth at the same hour with him, and who, like him too, was passing away.

How soon they wearied of life, those frail, gentle ones, and the angel came to bear them to a brighter, holier world, where the purity of their sinless spirits should remain untarnished by the blight and pollutions of earth.

We watched till the sun went down in the western sky, dim and shadowy, enshrined long before his setting by a yellow autumnal haze, that cast a melancholy subduing shade over the face of decaying nature that hung out her fading flowers and withered leaves, as a token of the sad change that was passing in her realm, while the evening breeze, as it swayed the branches of the trees, bearing many a leaf to the ground, and drifting them before his melancholy breath, seemed sighing a sad requiem over departed glory.

Such a scene, at such an hour, spoke forcibly of the varied changes and uncertainties of life, and as we looked upon the marble paleness of the dear children, and compared them with the withering flowers beneath the window, we felt that human life is but a flower that perisheth.

In this instance, the worm had sapped the bud ere the brighter tints were developed. As we stood in that chamber of death, we felt that God was present, that He who had given life was about to take it back to reign with Him, and though the deep fountains of grief were stirred, there came a "still, small voice," heard through the silence of that lone room, "Be still, and know that I am God," and we bowed in submission to the Divine will.

The mist broke from the face of the sun, and his last setting beams looked forth clear and bright upon the earth, tinging the fleecy clouds with gold and purple, and they looked like gorgeous piles of molten gold, over hung with crimson purple curtains, forming a sumptuous canopy to decorate the heavens.

Even so with the babe, life's feeble taper seemed to revive and emit a brilliant glare for a moment, the lips parted, the eyes wandered from object to object, and seemed to survey all the room contained, gazing most earnestly upon the face of the little sister, so soon to follow him, then wearily closing them with a slight struggle, the spirit passed away.

As we folded him in the vestments of the grave and laid him into the silent halls of death, hope whispered of a glorious resurrection morn, when those blue orbs should again awake from that long peaceful sleep, and look out upon the beauties of the upper world.

They placed his little form in a wide coffin, and laid it in the tomb to await the coming of his little sister.

A week passed away, a week of weary watchfulness and anxiety, of pain, suffering and distress, and the angel returned again for the twin spirit.

It was at the deep midnight hour when he announced his mysterious presence, by laying his icy hand and spreading his marble paleness over the form of the departing sister. The little frame was convulsed, and writhed beneath the grasp of the pale visitant, but he pitied not, relented not, but steady to his purpose, snapped the brittle thread of life, performed the task he had been commissioned with, and hurried away from that place of tears to cast his deep shadow over the sun light of other homes, and fill other hearts with grief, and cause other eyes to look red with weeping, "because death has come into the world," and the children of men must fall before his withering blight.

Already had decomposition commenced its repulsive work in the form of the little son, and he was laid away, while the coffin returned for the other dear one, who was to moulder with him in its narrow confines.

Deposited in the same tomb, was a coffin covered with mould, and just ready to drop from the shelf upon which it was placed, and the shrunken boards had separated, and it was perforated with large cracks where it had been joined together. The lid was always unscrewed, and was often raised by the hand of a fond mother, who looked upon the dust of an only daughter, who had been the idol of her heart. She had spared no pains in educating her, and she had well repaid the labor bestowed upon her in the acquisition of knowledge.

She was beautiful in person, amiable in disposition, and was beloved by a large circle of acquaintances. She was married early, to the companion of her choice, who had been attentive to her from childhood, declaring the first time he saw her, he never saw such beautiful curls in his life, as Annie Grey's.

She had two little sons, and all looked bright and prosperous; Annie was happy in the affection of her husband, her children and her friends, but death lingered not for these things; he came, a most unwelcome visitant, and bore his unwilling victim from the presence of her agonized mother, "to join the pale nations of the dead."

She dressed her in the gilded trappings of life, bolstered her up in bed, and curling her beautiful hair in glossy ringlets over her pale face, had her likeness taken as large as life, and touched with natural coloring, thus preserving the form and features of her child, upon the senseless canvass, which was kept hung up in her room, covered with black crape, during her life time.

Annie ever expressed repugnance at the idea of being deposited in the ground, and her mother had this tomb built that she might there repose, and she could watch her sleeping dust as it crumbled to decay.

Who that looked in upon that mouldering mass of blackened dust, and contrasted it with the beautiful form that moved in life, but learned an impressive lesson of the change that death makes upon the form of youth and beauty? She had slept there many years, and the mother felt the time was approaching, when she must take the last look of those dear remains, and have them removed to the second vault, or buried beneath the grassy turf; but ere the time arrived, the great reaper gathered father and mother into his abundant harvest, and laid them by her side.

Her husband, many years before, had passed from life's busy scenes, and closed his eyes forever upon earth.

The little girl was placed in a coffin, and borne by weeping friends to the burial place, and with her dead brother, lay side by side, beautiful in death.

Fresh buds were placed in the hands of each, as they lay, with their little arms entwined around each other, and their white marble faces, looking up to the pure sky above, while their half-open lids displaying their blue orbs, seemed looking out beneath the drooping fringes, to take a last farewell of earth, sun, sky, friends, and all the endearing associations of life.

A little mound was raised beside the grave of the maternal grandfather, who had fallen suddenly, in the meridian of life, while the strength of manhood was yet upon him. As the aged grandmother turned from the grave of the little ones, she gave one lingering glance to her husband's grave, and removing her glove from her hand, pressed the marble slab, that stood at the head of it, and passed on, with a sigh and a tear, to fulfil the remaining duties that awaited her in life.

She had parted from him, many long years before, and now she had lived her threescore years and ten, and her head was whitened with passing years; but the infant of a few days had gone before her. But a few more years passed, and you looked in vain upon earth for that weary voyager,