Going back to a house w hich wo left loog ago, with the sweetness and memories of lost summers locked away in its closed rooms, and hidden witbin its darkeiied passages, always seems to me like a resurrectioo. VVo throw back shutters, uud blue heaveiis peep willingly into dim rooms and dusky corridors ; we open doors, and tho Juue air chases the flickering sunsbme through the stillness of the dead atmosphere ; we turn keys and slips, until the troops of eager children, full of laughter and motion, sweep from threshold to tlnoshold, in oae glad rush of life and gtadi IhillforgottendreamsandfaDcies and fee] ings wuko again as some faded relie crunibles under our fingers, and tho. present touches the past 80 nuarly that all inicrvcning time and space is blottcd out, and the old days join the new in ono unbroken line of thought and aotion. Somewhere bej oud the staral lova to fanoy tbat the MBM wonderful chango will come to the dear dead faces that have been hidden iroin our earth forever. lireath of heaven will unseal the silent lip?, light of heaven will ucveil the shadowed eyes, glory of heaven encouipass the frozen soul, until joy UD8peakable and life eternal fill f'or theui tho whole boundless measure of oternity.