teach us all things concerning Christ; in that he hath called us from darknes unto light, and from the power of satan unto God. At the conclusion of the prayer, Henry burst into a holy rapture, exclaiming, "Holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, who shall not fear thee, and glorify thy name, for thou only art holy. Eternal praises be unto thee my Saviour, for thou art my refuge, thou art my sure defence, my hiding-place from the storm." Here his voice became unintelligible, and he lay back upon his pillow, whispering the praises of Jehovah.

Evening approached: the sun had set, leaving behind a bright and crimson sky, the workmen had ceased their daily toil, the hum of bees was heard no more, the singing of birds had passed away, and a dead silence reigned over all. That awful moment had now arrived when the spirit of our dear Henry was to take its flight to its eternal rest, there for ever to dwell in glory with Jesus Christ its Saviour. He raised himself upon his arm, and taking us each in turn by the hand, bid us farewell for ever. "Farewell," he said, farewell, father and mother; farewell, brothers and sisters; farewell, dear friends; weep not for me, for behold I go to my Saviour and my God. Strive to follow me there, and I pray God that where I am there ye may be also -dwelling for ever with the Lamb, who hath redeemed us, and made us priests unto God." Giving some more comfort and advice to his

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weeping relatives, he sunk back into a quiet, calm state, grieving for his friends, but wishing to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better. For some moments, slight convulsions were visible on his features, but they quickly disappeared; and looking on us with a smile so heavenly, so affectionate, his spirit fled to the bosom of its Redeemer.

"It was good for us to be there," for he "died not as a fool dieth," but, like the setting of that evening sun, his spirit sunk to rest, leaving a bright and beaming ray, that cast a holy radiance on our souls; a ray that blazed, not for a moment, and quickly disappearing, rendered the darkness more profound-it was a ray of truth, emanating from the Spirit of the living God, carrying conviction to the heart-it was a ray of eternal love, streaming from the Sun of Righteousness, holding up to view the lacerated brow and pierced side of Immanuel-it was a ray of faith, kindled by the promises of divine truth, which shall increase in brightness as it burnsit was a ray of hope, which shall never he extinguished, till it be swallowed up in reality.

"It was good for us to be there," to see the rich, rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom of God. Oft have I seen the humble believer struggle against the bitter cup of adversity; and stood by his bed-side as he breathed his last, and surrendered his soul to God. It was good to behold his unwavering faith on that Saviour who

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had been his staff and comfort amid poverty and want. But oh! how good it was to behold this family kneel by the death-bed of their relative, in humble submission to the divine will; it was the proud, the great ones of the earth, who knelt there, not stooping to the ground, and saying with their lips, Lord, Lord,' while their hearts were far from him ;" but sorrowing with a godly Conscious of their awful guilt in the sight of God, they bowed before his throne of mercy, exclaiming, "Father, we have sinned against heaven and in thy sight, and we are no more worthy to be called thy children, make us as thy hired servants." R. Christian Miscellany.

sorrow.

HOPE.

EVER changeful, ever high,—
Never close, yet always nigh;
Brightest in the darkest cloud,
Fairest in the storm most loud;
From the heart to chase all sorrow,
Pointing to a brighter morrow.

In the barren desert drear,

I the traveller's heart do cheer,—
Fill his soul with pleasing dreams
Of flowery meads and crystal streams;
And in that desert never leave,
But still enchant, though oft deceive.

When the Christian's soul, opprest,
Knows not where to fly for rest,—

When heavy clouds obscure his sky,
And no human help is nigh,

Then I tell of rest to come,-
Point him to his heavenly home.

When his days have reached their goal,
And doubts and fears distress his soul,
Like a lustrous star appearing,

I dispel his guilty fearing,-
Lead him to the throne of light,
Where I melt in sweet delight.

Leicester.

R. W., aged 15.

THE MOURNING OF RACHEL. (Read the second chapter of Matthew.)

BY THE REV. THOMAS DALE, A. M.

OH! whither, whither shall I fly
My beautiful, my best beloved?
I hear the tread of warriors nigh,
Men of stern mood and tearless eye,
E'en by a mother's prayer unmoved.
Soon will they stand beside thee-
Where shall thy mother hide thee?

Cleave, cleave, thou solid earth! and yield
A shelter in thy central cave:
Heaven! be thy red right arm revealed,
Avert the tyrant's wrath, and shield
My last, my sole one from the grave-
The foe, the foe are near him,

O whither can I bear him?

A curse upon thee, ruthless king!
A mother's with a nation's prayer
Mount on the tempest's rapid wing,
And to the Eternal Presence bring
The frantic accents of despair!
Now is the avenger nigh thee;
Let not his sword pass by thee!

Again-again-my babe, again

I clasp thee to this bleeding heart :-
They come and are thy people slain,
And dost thou still, O God! restrain
The avenger, ardent to depart?
Or have the lightnings past them,
Which thou hadst sent to blast them?

They come! they come! Hold, hold thine hand-
Thou canst not shed an infant's blood-
Sheathe, murderer, sheathe thy reeking brand-
Thou wilt not?-Is the Fiend's command
Fulfilled by his own demon-brood?

O if ye will not spare him,

Strike first at her that bare him!"

There's blood upon that mother's brow,
Blood of her child by ruffians shed-
A voice is heard in Rama now,
A voice of wailing long and low-
'Tis Rachel weeping for the dead.

The mother, broken-hearted,
Calls on her babe departed!

'Twere vain to bid her weep no moreOnly the dreamless grave shall bring