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When she excused herself, he replied, “Ah, mother, these excuses won't stand at the bar of God; only try, and the Lord will help.”

On the following morning, he was exceedingly restless and uneasy ; his feeble body seemed to writhe under extreme agony, and the cold sweat of death, in profuse perspiration, gathered on his pale forehead. A few Christian friends were hastily summoned around his bed to witness the final scene, and minister, as best they could, to his dying wants. Brother Hampson observing his distress, said, “It is hard work, but it will soon be over. He replied, "It is, it is : yes, glory be to Jesus !” He was much cheered by the presence of those who had often knelt with him at a throne of grace, fixing his eyes first on one, then on another, as though he would gladly read their thoughts, or wished to say something he had no power to utter. He was the first to break the silence, repeating those expressive lines of the poet, “ My soul would leave this heavy clay,”—but strength failed him, and Brother Hampson quoted the next line,_"at that transporting word.” Then raising his voice, he repeated, “O that will be joyful.” And now there appeared some respite to his sufferings, he became more composed and quiet; from the expression of his countenance his mind seemed to be enjoying unseen glories; and from this moment the “house of mourning” was turned into the “house of joy :” each believer felt not as though standing by the bed of death, but, rather, as on the threshold of heaven. Again he was the first to break the silence ; fixing his eyes upwards, as though looking at some object that newly challenged his attention; suddenly he roused up, and with a strange energy, and delighted expression, he exclaimed, “The angels are waiting ! the trumpets are sounding ! I think I hear them.” The effects of this outburst will not soon be forgotten by those who were privileged to hear it. It was like the first note of the song of triumph. Here death was robbed of its sting, yea rather, it was the wondrous joy of a soul safely landed, and hearing the first peal of heavenly music, than of one yet struggling in

the deep waters of death. A little after this excitement, his pains seemed to return with increased violence, he now cried, “Pray, pray!” but seeing them so overcome with emotion, he tried to encourage them, by saying“Come, I won't look to man, only to Jesus.” When all were kneeling he was heard softly to repeat, “Come Jesus! now Jesus!” A little after this he enquired for Brother Garnet, and desired him to be sent for. As this brother entered the room, their eyes met, James gave the lingering look of parting love, that seemed to express thanks for aets of kindness, and now must say farewell ; but he uttered no words. He was now comforted with the thought that the valley would soon be crossed, and the pearly gate open to receive him ; he then remained calm for a length of time. About two o'clock another change was observable ; his eye grew lighter, his face assumed a more animated expresion, his lips moved slowly, he seemed to be engaged in mental devotion; then he cried, “Father of mercies, Father of mercies, display thy power:” and after a momentary pause, at the top of his voice he shouted, “there is a crown of bright glory waiting for me "-repeating with increased emphasis—“for me, for me!” He again requested them to engage

in

prayer, prayer was offered and it was asked, " that if God had any farther work for him to do, he would grant him strength to perform it, and then give him speedy release.” The effect of those words, "a work to do," seemed to strike him like an electric shock; the whole energy of his youth and health seemed for the moment renewed ; his features assumed an expression of earnest imploring enquiry, his lips quivered with intense excitement, his last fear, and his last hope for his parents had come; he fixed his bright eye on his father, then on

; his brother, and then on his mother. And now he entered on his last work for Jesus. Raising his voice to its loudest compass, he cried,—“Father! will you - will you give your heart to God?" “ Yes !" was the response. Then turning to his brother, he said, “Jesse! will you—will you give your heart to God?" Then turning to his mother, he said, “Mother! will you, will you give your heart to

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God ?” O what can speak the earnestness of that dying youth's pleading with those he loved the best. They standing, as it were, on the nearer bank of the river, and he, from the tone of his voice, his look, and his gesture, as if already landed on the farther shore, and from beneath the very gates of the celestial city, shouting across Jordan, “Will you-will you give your hearts to God ?” Their answers seemed to give him peace. He then looked calmly on the Christian friends around, and said, “ Will you, all of you, meet me in heaven ?" "Yes!” was the joyful response. Once again he looked intently round the room upon each separately, as though he would have said, “Remember!" and then fixing his eyes towards the ceiling, he breathed, “ Come Jesus ! Now, come Jesus!” Having desired Mrs. Hampson to move his feet, and turn his head, his face was turned to the wall. He then said, “There that will do, and,” continued he, 'you won't make a noise ; don't make a noise.” Happy youth! the celestial gates are moving on their golden hinges ! for ever hushed be the wail of sorrow there ! He was now calm and composed ; only once he opened his eyes, looked up as if in mental communion with some unseen guest, and they gently closed again. His friends thought he would now sleep until evening, but not so, the watchers forgot the prayer so recently uttered, “that he might have strength to finish his work, and then have a speedy release.” The strength was given, the work was done, and now, yes nowthe release was given, whilst they bent over him, and marked his quietude, in three minutes after his last request—without a parting sigh or struggle, he was gone, within the city.

He fell asleep in Jesus on the 4th of November, 1850, in the 18th year of his age. His remains were borne to the grave by eight of his fellow-teachers and companions belonging to the school, and as they laid him within the precincts of his last earthly resting place, it was in “Sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection.”

THE LADY'S GIFT TO A HIGHWAYMAN.

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wilderness belong.

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A Few years ago a lady was walking along a solitary road, when two men of very disreputable appearance approached her. As they drew near, she anxiously looked around for help. No human creature was in sight, the dreary moor spread out on all sides, without one habita

upon it-escape was impossible, her heart died within her, and she biterly reproached herself for having walked in that direction alone. At that moment when fear was at its height, a bird suddenly arose from the ground close beside her; she looked down, and the bright blue blossoms of the “ Forget-me-not,” which clustered along the edge of the bourn at her feet, met her gaze, and recalled her thoughts to Him to whom the beauties of the

The flower brought a message of peace to her heart, and she walked forward with calmness. The men soon came up, and, as she expected, asked for charity. “I have no money with me,” she replied. we must have something,” they said ; their eyes

fixed upon her gold watch. She at once took out her pocket Bible and handed it to them ; they looked surprised, glanced at each other

, and with a polite bow returned the book and were going away, when the lady in her turn became the beggar.

my friends,” she said, “I must entreat you to take this

, it is of more value than silver or gold, for what shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul ?” She put it into their hands and hastened

Time passed on, and the circumstance had nearly faded from the lady's remembrance, when a fearful accident happened at a neighbouring quarry. A large block of stone fell ; one man was killed on the spot; and several others very much hurt. As the quarry village” was at some distance from her residence, the lady did not go to see the sufferers until a woman of not very respectable

one day called upon her, and asked her to go and see her husband, who, she said, was very ill, and the doctor

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character,

did not think“ he was long for this world.” She accordingly went, and with some disgust entered the filthy hovel pointed out to her. The loud angry voices, and the strong smell of whisky which assailed her, before her eyes could recover from the blinding effects of the smoke that escaped through the door alone, almost induced her to turn. She however stood still for a few moments, and soon discovered a few tattered rags in the corner, on which the poor man was extended. He raised himself on his elbow as she approached, and holding out her old pocket Bible, said, “ Lady, do you remember that ? it has indeed been more precious to me than silver or gold, it has told me of Christ and of hope.” The lady gazed at his death-like features ; she could not be mistaken, she remembered the man who in his days of strength had forgotten God, and who now, in the midst of ungodly acquaintances, seemed to be confessing Him. She was much overcome, but seeing his time on earth was drawing very near its close, she said, “ Thank God, my friend, if this book has told you of Christ, but what has it told you of yourself ?"

“ It has told me I am a vile sinner."
“And do you feel yourself a sinner ?" she asked.

“Feel myself a sinner !” he replied. “Oh! was there ever such a one out of hell. Such a drunkard, such a swearer, such a Sabbath-breaker. Oh! I am indeed the chief of sinners."

" And in what, then, is your hope ?" inquired the lady. “My hope is in Christ,” replied the dying man.

“My sure stay is in him ; he has shown me my sins, but he has also shown me his own righteousness ; in Him is my hope, and in Him is my salvation.”

This was enough, the lady no longer doubted, but rejoiced over her brother who had been lost, but was found again. After some further conversation, she inquired for his companion who had been with him when she gave them the Bible.

“Ah! that is the sad thing, my lady ; his is the sad story, poor man. “ Was it he that was killed when the stone fell ?” exclaimed the lady.

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