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m2 to appear before him unprepared!” The following day her fears became gradually diminished, and she uttered a faint hope that her Redeemer liveth. It was suggested to her mind, “that was impossible. Jesus Christ is not your Redeemer.” “Pray,” she said, “for my complete deliverance ; for a full and free pardon through the blood of Jesus Christ. I will not deceive the world, nor my own soul. I will not rest until I know, most assuredly, that I am going to heaven.” On Wednesday morning, January 25th, every doubt was dispersed by a believing application to her mind of that suitable portion of God's word contained in Psalm xxxiv. 4, “ I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears." She doubted no more. To her mother she said, “ To patient faith the prize is sure. I am going to heaven.

if I had a voice, I could sing,

• Land me safe on Canaan's side,'" &c.

On Friday her speech began to fail. She called the family together, and beginning with her mother,-a disciple of the Saviour,she said, “ Do not, do not fret. I am going to heaven. You will soon follow me there." Taking her three brothers, one by one, by the hand, she exhorted them to seek salvation. She entreated them not to follow her example, and defer that great work to a dying hour. “For your sister's sake, for God's sake, leave off bad society; attend a place of worship; be good to your mother." To her eldest brother she said, very specially, “ Take care of her.” She then gave him her Bible, with strong entreaties to make a good use of it; to make it his chief companion. To her aged father she said, “ My strength fails. Go to the chapel. I am going to heaven.” She then kissed him, and said, “God bless you!”

On the night of Friday, January 27th, she fell into a sleep of three hours' duration. Upon awaking, she made signs with a pin, that she wanted a pen. She wrote, “I shall be in glory by one o'clock ; but I shall spit blood again :" and added, “ Pray, if the will of God be such, that I may then be gone.” A friend prayed. Her last struggle commenced. She died spitting blood, agreeable to her own intimation, at half past ten on Saturday morning, in the twentieth year of her age.

"She is gone! and the grave hath received her;

'Twas Jesus who call'd her away :
She is gone to the Lord who redeem'd her,

From night, to the splendour of day!
She is gone! but we will not deplore her ;

Then weep not, ye friends left behind :
She is gone! and we would not restore her,

'Mong the halt, and the maim'd, and the blind.
She is gone where the blessed before her,

Are singing the praise of the Lamb;
She is gone where all tongues rejoice o'er her,
Surrounding the mighty I AM."

2. Died, January 29th, Sarah Ann Coverley, daughter of Robert and Bridget Coverley, of Asfordley, in the Melton-Mowbray Circuit. She was born April 28th, 1814 ; and about three years before her death she was convinced, at family worship, of her deplorable condition by nature, and her danger of eternal ruin. She cried to God for mercy; and after wading through deep waters for six weeks, obtained a sense of pardon while engaged in family devotion. Having obtained a consciousness of adoption, she was filled with gladness; and this consciousness of salvation she retained to the period of her decease. She was a lover of the means of grace, both public and private. For the last nineteen months she was confined to her bed. During her heavy affliction she manifested the most Christian resignation, saying “The Lord doeth all things well.” She never expressed any grief but twice: once, because she could not attend the love-feast in the chapel; and another time, because her weakness was so great, that she could no longer hold the Bible, to read that word which had so often been a lamp unto her feet, and a light unto her path. She sang,

“ Weaker than a bruised reed,

Help I every moment need.' During the winter her affliction was so great, that she could not move a single finger ; when she said, “ Mother, do you think that I should offend God, if I were to ask for the use of one hand ?" Her mother answered, “No, my dear; provides you ask in submission to the will of your heavenly Father.” She thought upon the subject till the next day; and then prayed that the Divine Physician would graciously restore her the use of one hand; and her desire was granted. This blessing she continued to enjoy to the close of life. Her conversation was spiritual ; and in her sufferings she used to say, “ Jesus doeth all things weil.”

“ Tis mercy all, immense and free,

For, O my God, it found out me!” On the Sunday preceding her death, she wakened herself by singing,

“ Happy, if with my latest breath,

I may but gasp his name." She said, “ The thoughts of death make my heart rejoice. I am ready to depart. Angels beckon me away :” and added, “ All things are ready.” She admonished all her pious relations to persevere in the narrow path ; and talked of the felicity which would inspire her soul, when she should have the happiness of receiving them to glory. One of her Christian friends said, "My dear, you will soon be in glory.” She answered, “ To live is Clirist; and to die is gain. Jesus is precious. Blessed Jesus !" and looking towards heaven, she exclaimed,

“ There is my house and portion fair,

My treasure and my heart are there,

She desired that the family would sing that hymn; in doing which she joined heartily with them. As she approached eternity, her joy and confidence increased. When about to die, she prayed that the Lord would favour her with an easy passage ; and God was pleased to hear her in this also, to the astonishment of all her friends ; for she did not even utter a sigh ; but, falling asleep in Jesus, she awoke in glory, aged eleven years and nine months.

WILLIAM FOWLER.

POETRY.

CHRISTIAN DECISION.
JESUS, I my cross have taken,

All to leave, and follow thee;
Naked, poor, despised, forsaken,

Thou, from hence, my all shalt be!
Perish every fond ambition,

All I've sought, or hoped, or known;
Yet how rich is my condition,-

God and heaven are all my own!
Let the world despise and leave me,

They have left my Saviour too ;
Human hopes and looks deceive me,

Thou art not, like them, untrue :
And whilst thou shalt smile upon me,

God of wisdom, love, and might,
Friends may hate, and foes may scorn me,

Show thy face, and all is right.
Go, then, earthly fame and treasure !

Come, disaster, scorn, and pain!
In thy service, pain is pleasure;

With thy favour, loss is gain.
I have call'd thee Abba, Father,

I have set my heart on thee;
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather,

All must work for good to me!
Man may trouble and distress me,

'Twill but drive me to thy breast;
Life with trials hard may press me,

'Twill but bring me sweeter rest.
O'tis not in grief to harm me,

While thy love is left to me;
O'tis not in joy to charm me,

Were that joy unmix'd with thee !
Soul! then know thy full salvation,

Joy to find in every station,

Something still to do or bear!
Think what Spirit dwells within thee,

Think what heavenly smiles are thine ;
Think that Jesus died to save thee,-

Child of Heaven, canst thou repine ?
Haste thee on, from grace to glory,

Arm’d by faith, and wing'd by prayer ;
Heaven's eternal day's before thee;

God's o'vn hand shall guide thee there :
Soon shall close thy earthly mission,

Soon shall pass thy pilgrim days ;
Hope shall change to glad fruition,

Faith to sight, and prayer to praise !

ON HEARING A SACRED SONG OF MOZART.

BY THE REV. W. LISLE BOWLES. O STILL, as with a seraph's voice, prolong The harmonies of that enchanting song, Till, listening, we might almost think we hear, Beyond this cloudy world, in the pure sphere Of light, acclaiming hosts the throne surrounding, The long hosannas evermore resounding, Soft voices, interposed, in pure accord, Breathing a holier charm:

O every word Falls like a drop of silver, as the strain, In winding sweetness, swells, and sinks again. Sing ever thus, beguiling life's long way, As here, poor pilgrims of the earth, we stray; And, Lady, when thy pilgrimage shall end, And late the shades of the long night descend, May sister-seraphs meet with welcome song, And gently say, “Why have you stay'd so long ?”

SUNDAY-SCHOOL HYMN. THERE is a light of holy beaming,

Enkindled from the' eternal throne; O'er our benighted earth 'tis gleaming,

And on the darkest mind has shone. The desert blooms beneath its glowing,

And flow'rets spring where all was drear,

And beauteous buds of grace appear Where'er its hallow'd rays are flowing.

To Thee the praise belongs,

O Source of light and truth!
Receive the grateful tribute!--songs

O, long the youthful mind, neglected,

A dreary waste uncultured lay, 'Till Sabbath-schools a beam directed,

To chase the mental gloom away : Across the rayless mind it darted,

Where ignorance had darkly dwelt,

And “moral moonless night” was felt, And science from the skies imparted.

To Thee, &c. Since then the harvest truly plenteous

Has waved in honour to thy name; And still the beaming skies portentous,

Of thy continuing love proclaim: The garden of the Lord shall flourish,

While Bethlehem's beams shall o'er it glow,

And Calvary's tides around it flow, The tender plants of grace to nourish.

To Thee, &c. O Saviour ! nerve with zeal untiring

The labourers in their happy toil;
May all, in love's true bond conspiring,

Still cultivate Immanuel's soil ;
And with thy smiles the prospect cheering,

Teachers and children shall arise,

Renew'd in vigour for the skies, To hail Thee at thy great appearing.

To Thee, &c.

THE BOY'S PRAYER. PURE Source of Good, ineffable, divine ! With heavenly light upon my nature shine; The blessings promised in thy word impart; Replenish with thy grace my youthful heart. Let no vain thoughts upon my mind intrude Save me from idle words, from actions rude. May no mean trifle, no alluring toy, No foolish sport, my precious time employ. All vice dispel, each bad desire control, And by thy Spirit dwell within my soul. My understanding counsel by thy light; My will, so wayward, govern by thy might; Enshrined within the temple of my breast, A constant resident, a welcome guest, Sealing thy pardoning mercy on my heart; And never let me force thee to depart. Be thy blest word my pleasure and delight,

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