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dear, and so precious to me, that the sweet sensations I had from communion with Him lifted me above my pain, and I felt astonished, and wondered how it was I could be so regardless, as it were, of all I was enduring." To Mr. Tatham shortly after he said, "I do feel it such a mercy that the Lord made me feel distressed on account of my sins when I was better able to bear it than now. The Lord is very good-bless His precious name." He spoke very debasingly of himself, and loved to exalt the Lord Jesus Christ, and the riches of His grace.
On the Tuesday before he died, he said to a friend, "O Richard, I do suffer-my sufferings are very acute;" and his countenance betokened the bodily agony he was in: but he then began to speak of the Lord's goodness, when his face immediately brightened up, and he said, "This morning between four and five I awoke up and, there appeared such a ray and glow of light, and such a glory to surround me; and I felt such a heart of love to bless, praise, and adore the dear Lord, and I did feel so glad." He would have proceeded, but nature was exhausted. The friend read to him part of 1 John iii., particularly refering to the first, "Behold what manner of love," &c. He looked very happy and nodded assent to some remarks made upon it.
During the night before he died, it was evident he was favoured with much communion with the Lord; and several times he was heard to exclaim, "Dear Lord!" "Dear Jesus!" "My precious Jesus! my precious Jesus!" A little before six o'clock in the morning, March 10th, 1866, his spirit fled to be" for ever with the Lord," leaving his parents and many Christian friends to admire the riches of Divine mercy, and in due time to follow him,
when the summons arrives. plucked out of the fire ?"
"Is not this a brand
Dear child who reads the above, may you in early life be brought to Him who says, " Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not.
Yes, suffer the children to come,
Is Jesus' unchangeable word;
The burden'd release from their load.
He suffers you freely to come,-
Of all who shall die without grace!
If here to the Saviour you come,
'Twill prove you are chosen of God,
The moment you've cross'd the dark flood.
Oh, happy, thrice happy are they
Who've ceased, through mercy, to roam,
Who suffers the children to come.-ED.
A RHYME FOR YOUNG READERS.
THERE were two idle little boys
Who ne'er could do their themes and lessons,
Of mornings, when the sun shone bright
And once when they for school were late,
"Ho, ho!" they cried, "the sun shines bright," And "Hey!" they laugh'd, "'tis merry weather;" They wandered far in their delight,
And laughed, and ran, and sang together.
But as they reached a narrow plank
The other, as he reached to save,
And rose, and sank-to rise no more!
Truants! this story's meant for
Know ye the moral of my rhyme ?
This story is, alas! too true,
THE NOVEL WRITER.
"TWAS a fine summer's eve and all nature was gay, The birds sweetly sang on the trees;
The lark soared on high in the bright azure sky,
Two maidens walked forth in the cool of the day;
Said Carry to Susan, "I want you to hear
'Tis a fiction you know, and now as we go,
And when it was ended, with confident glee,
"Now I've come to the end, pray tell me, my friend,
Young Susan looked grave as she solemnly said, Your story is pretty and new,
It is cleverly penned; but, ah, my dear friend,
"Did you ever reflect that the Bible has said
He ne'er can appear with the happy ones there, Who loveth or maketh a lie?"
Poor Carry was silent. The word came with
But still her loved idel was dear.
She turn'd sadly away, but from that very day
Her writings were now safely laid in her desk;
Some years passed away, but at length came the day
When she cast the whole heap on the fire.
Poor Susan! her spirit has passèd from earth,
In those mansions of light, with her Saviour so bright,
Those regions where all live in love.