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strong desire for the prosperity of religion, and seldom missed attending either Sabbath or week-night services. He seemed to pay great attention to the word delivered, and was often heard to repeat, “Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, uttered or unexpressed,” &c.
The disease which proved to him the harbinger of death, was typhus fever. During the first week he suffered very much; but in all his affliction not a murmur
l escaped his lips. Once during a paroxysm of agony, he saw his mother weeping, and said, “Mother, do not weep for sueh an unworthy wretch as me.” A few days before his death he sung for the last time that beautiful verse, frequently sung in the school,
6. 'Tis sweet to sit and sing below,
Of grace to mortals given;
By families to heaven." On Tuesday morning, September the 27th, he was suddenly seized with violent pain in the bowels. His parents were much alarmed, and could not refrain from tears. Observing them, he said, “Mother, don't fret; father, don't fret; if I die, I shall go to a better land.” His father asked him, "Are you happy?" He answered, “ Yes.” He was then asked, whether he thought he should go to heaven if he died? He promptly replied, “ Yes.” Reviving a little, he said, “What a poor unworthy thing I am ! Did you think I was going ?" Or his father saying, “ Yes," he asked, “Should you fret at my going to a better land ?” After a pause, his father said, “No, if it be your Heavenly Father's will to take you."
Upon a pious female, who often visited him during his illness, saying, “ Jesus is precious,” he mildly replied, “He is precious ;" and while she spoke to him about the love of Jesus, he seemed to enjoy a foretaste of future happiness. On Friday, the 30th, a friend asked him whether he believed in Jesus, and that Christ would take him to heaven if he died ? His answer to each question was, « Yes." All present knelt, and engaged in prayer; and it was a memorable time ; the Lord was present, and David rejoiced in his Saviour. When talking with his father about heavenly things, she said he had received much good while the people were at prayer, in Bangor Street room. The same evening he said to his father, with an unusual smile, “I am happy.” About eleven o'clock, he said, “Father, I have salvation through Jesus Christ.” About one o'clock on Saturday morning his father observed a great change in his countenance, and began to weep. Opening his eyes, and seeing his father's tears, he exclaimed, “Father, what are you crying for ? I am happy.” The same morning, awaking from a slumber, and seeing his mother and eldest sister, he said, “I have seen Jesus and little Harriet” (his sister's daughter, deceased). His sister asked, whether he was afraid to die ? He answered, “No.” She then asked him, “ Why ?" and he answered, “Because I feel I am converted.” At intervals he would repeat,
“Take my poor heart and let it be,
For ever closed to all but thee," &c. Between twelve and one, a religious friend, influenced by a strong impression on his mind, called to see him ; and having conversed and prayed with him, expressed himself satisfied and happy to find David so well prepared to die. During the afternoon, David continued to talk about heaven, and seemed desirous of information concerning that happy place. The female friend before referred to failed not to direct his attention to the Saviour. Towards evening, it was evident that his dissolution was drawing near. His sister and sister-in-law being with him, he inquired for his Bible, and, giving it to his sister Ann, he said, “Take it, and read it, and follow me to heaven.” He then inquired for his father, who had gone out of the room ; and immediately he called out, “Father ! father!” His father hearing the call, ran up to the room ; and, on his approaching the bedside, David turned his dying eyes towards him, and said, “Father, I am going to leave you-I am going to heaven, and I wish you to divide all my books amongst
my brothers and sisters, keeping what you will for yourself. When the Lord is pleased to call you home, I will come and meet you-Jesus is precious--I have that which is of the greatest value.” He was then seized with a violent fit of coughing; after which he quietly and calmly fell asleep in Jesus, aged fourteen years and eight months.
Reader, are you in the bloom of youth, full of vigour, buoyant with hope and expectation of many years of pleasure yet before you? Remember, "It is appointed unto men once to die.” That the young are sometimes
Are you ready? Without holiness you cannot enter heaven. Now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation ; hasten then to the Saviour, and never rest, till,“ justified by faith you have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” You have opportunities of gaining instruction. The Sabbath school, the house of God, are open-improve your time.
“ Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might, for there is no work nor device in the grave whither thou goest.”
THE POOR ITALIAN BOY.
A KIND old man was one day walking through a village, and heard a loud noise of shouting and hallooing at a little distance. He stopped, and leaning on his stick, waited to see what was the matter. He soon saw a poor Italian boy coming towards him, running fast from a number of the village children, who were scampering at his heels, throwing stones, and pelting him with dirt, and mocking and laughing at him.
The old man walked as fast as he could up to the Italian boy, and promising that he would take care of him, called out to the village boys and girls to stop. The poor fellow stood close to the old man, and his little enemies ceased annoying him. My poor child,” said the old man, “ I am very sorry to see you so ill used, because you happen to be a stranger and without friends here.
But these children shall not hurt you any more. Take this sixpence, and proceed on your journey."
“ And you,” he said to the little mob of children, “ stay here, for I wish to talk to you.”
The Italian boy thanked the kind old man, over and over again, and putting the sixpence into his pocket, he
The children stood round the old man. They were rather afraid of his stick ; but the old man did not lay this stick about their shoulders, as they might have expected, and as they deserved. He desired them to follow him to a log of wood that was lying on the ground by the road side ; and he looked so good-natured, that the children willingly obeyed.
The old man took his seat on this log, and then he said to the children, "When teasing and pelting this poor boy, you think, I dare say, that he is not so good as yourselves; for if you thought he was good, you would not ill-treat him. You would not pelt a boy born in your own village, who made himself useful to his father and mother, and was a kind playmate--would you ?”
“Oh! no," said all the children.
“Well, then, who this poor boy may be I do not know any more than yourselves ; but we ought not to think ill of him till we know that he has done something bad. I will now tell you a story about a little Italian boy that I once knew ; and this story may show you that some Italian boys, at least, are good, and ought to be well treated.”.
The story which was told by the old man on this occasion was as follows
“Some time ago there was a war between France and Italy, and many poor men in both countries were taken to become soldiers ; 'that is, were forced to quit their own homes, to go into foreign lands to kill other men, and to plunder the peaceable inhabitants, by whom they had never been harmed. Among the Italians thus forced away was a poor man, living near Naples, who was earried off, with many others, to serve as a soldier in the
6 He was very
Italian army. To be forced to serve as a soldier came particularly hard
poor man, for he had already been severely afflicted. The winter before, he had lost his wife, and there was nobody but himself to take care of his little boy, whom he was now about to leave, against his wish.
fond of this child, and they had never been separated from each other. Since the death of his wife the poor man had had no other companion than this little boy, with the exception of a favourite dog. They ate together, they worked together, they played together, they slept together; and on holidays, and during the warm evenings of the delicious summer months, the father used to amuse himself with blowing some tunes upon a pandean pipe. To these tunes his little boy, seated on the ground at his feet, or mounted on his knee, would listen earnestly, and would often beg his father to let him try to play upon the pipe also. In a short time, by listening and practising, the boy learned to blow some tunes in his turn very prettily.
“ This pipe, when he went away, the poor man left with
6 An order arrived to hasten his departure, so that he had only time to give Juan, for that was the boy's name, to the care of an old woman who lived near him. He kissed his child, folded him in his arms, and with tears in his eyes, told him to be a good boy, and that he hoped soon to come back and see him again.
Good-bye, my faithful Fido,' said he, patting the dog, who stood close to him, 'take care of my lonely child whilst I am away.'
“ The dog looked wistfully in his master's face, as if he understood the words that had been spoken to him, and licked his hands as though promising to attend to his orders.
“ Juan cried, for he did not like to see his father going away.
6 The poor man went. Week after week passed on. Every night, young Juan when he went to bed, said, 'I