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her and tell the whole truth, although he might be to blame, promising at the same time to behave better in future,
The disease which occasioned his death was Diabetes, its first symptoms were noticed about twelve months before his death, and up to this period he did not show any great concern for the salvation of his soul. The disease was not very rapid in its progress, for he was able to follow his employment until August 1853, when he appeared to be getting much worse. His parents were very anxious to get him every assistance that lay in their power, and for this purpose engaged the services of several medical men.
In consequence of the establishment at which the family were employed removing to Houghton Dale Works, near Denton, George had occasionally to come to Manchester to see his medical adviser, and in : doing this he would frequently go out of his way in order to take a glance at the school, and on one occasion, after he had returned, he seemed in great distress, and when his mother enquired the cause of his grief, said he had been round to look at the school. “Poor Old School, It does my eyes good to look at it, but I shall never see it again." He was, however, permitted to attend our Christmas tea party and recital, but he seemed very
low spirited and unwilling to be noticed ; but when the recital commenced and his school-fellows, with whom he had often stood up to recite, began to say their pieces-he said this was too much for him to bear, he could not stand this—and he was obliged to retire. These circumstances had such an effect upon him that he was confined to his bed for several days after. From this time he gradually became worse, and very soon after this the doctor pronounced him incurable, and very kindly sent a minister from a church in the neighbourhood to visit him. Upon the arrival of the minister, Mrs. Walton went up stairs to ask George whether the church minister should come up to see him ? to which he replied, “Ob, Yes mother, send them all up that come, for although they may differ in name, we are all aiming at getting to the same place."
About three weeks before his death he was visited by one of the conductors of Houghton Green Sunday School,
I found him in a very low and desponding state of mind I endeavoured to show him that he was a sinner, and pointed him to the Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world.” But after conversing with him awhile, he said, “I am not ignorant of these things for I have been warned time after time by the teachers and conductors of the school, with which I am connected, but, if I had my time to go over again, I would lead a different life."
On another occasion he was visited by four of his companions, and in speaking to them made use of the following language “ Twelve months ago I was full of life and vigour and was as strong as any of you, I could run as fast or walk as far ; but look at me now; and see what affliction has done for me. Now I advise you, while in health and strength, to lead a different life.
I used to think my teachers and couductors were very strict, and too severe, but now I see it was all for my own good ; and if I had but two or three years to live, Oh, how I would labour to repay them for the trouble they have had with me.” | About a fortnight before his death he was visited by two of the teachers, and after talking with him some time, they found that he still clung to the world. He, depending upon the medical treatment he was undergoing, acknowledged that up to this time he had hopes of getting better, but now he said, " They have all given me up and I don't think I shall get better ! ” The teachers strove to convince him of the folly of placing his affections on the things of this world, while he was to all appearances fast hastening to another. After they had left, he said to his mother, that it had been the happiest hour he had spent since he began to be unwell. He expressed great thankfulness to his teachers for visiting him; and spoke very highly of his mother, saying she was as good as any minister in giving him religious instruction. He was always glad to see any of the friends belonging to the school. He frequently enquired “Is my teacher come ?” Yes, the teacher whom George, while in health thought strict and severe, in the time of his sickness seemed to be one of his nearest and dearest friends. About a week before his death several of the teachers visited him, and found him rejoicing in the love of Christ Jesus. Although his sufferings were very great he requested his teacher to tell all his friends at school, that he was ready for death, and that he was going to Jesus. This was on the Monday evening before he died. During the few days previous to his death, he was visited by three of our school conductors and the Secretary, who found him in great suffering and pain, scarcely able to speak to them. Yet his language was still the same. He said, “I am going to Jesus.” A short time before his death, he wished all the members of the family to be called to his bed side ; and he addressed a few remarks to each. To his brother he gave this special charge, that he was to tell them at the Sundayschool that he had “found peace for his soul, and was depending upon Jesus Christ as his Redeemer, and that he should soon be with Him in heaven.” He tried to sing this verse out of our school hymn book.
“ Hide me O my Saviour hide
Till the Storm of Life be past;
O receive my soul at last.” His voice faltered he was struggling hard with death and with what effect this was sung, can be more easily imagined than expressed. About 9 o'clock in the evening, his spirit took its flight to a better world, where sickness and sorrow---pain and death-are felt and feared no more.
He died April the 7th, and was interred at Houghton Green Wesleyan Chapel, April 14th, 1854.
Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.
A CORNISH CHURCHYARD BY THE SEVERN SEA.
PERHAPS there is no county in all Great Britain less known to the bulk even of the more intelligent portion of the community than Cornwall. Its geographical position has hitherto isolated it, and it will probably be long ere railways introduce any material alteration either in the character of the people, or in the aspect of the land. The knowledge of Cornwall popularly (but erroneously) diffused in England usually amounts to this—that it is a desolate peninsula, barren and treeless; that it contains inexhaustible mines, that its miners and peasantry speak a dialect quite unintelligible to the people of any other part of England; that it boasts a St. Michael's Mount, and a Land's End; and that its natives have, from time immemorial, enjoyed the unenviable notoriety of being merciless wreckers, devoid of the milk of human kindness. How unmerited this last stigma is, as applied to modern Cornishmen, the anecdotes we have to relate will sufficiently indicate.
The church of the remote village of Mortenstow, in Cornwall, is close on the Severn Sea, and the vicar's glebe is bounded by stern rifted cliffs, 450 feet high. Orkney or Shetland itself perhaps does not contain a more wild and romantic place than Morwenstow. Nothing here but doth suffer a sea-change.” Fragments of wreck everywhere attest the nature of the coast. If an unfortunate vessel is driven by a north-west or a south-west gale within the Horns of Hartland and Padstow Points, God help her hapless crew! for she is doomed to certain destruction. Along the whole coast there is no harbour of refuge-nothing but iron rocks. Here the roar of the ocean is incessant, and in stormy weather appalling. Mighty waves then fling themselves against the giant cliffs, and bursting with thundering crash, send their spray in salt-showers over the land. The life led by the dwellers near these solitary cliffs can be but dimly imagined by the inhabitants of inland cities. During the long dark nights of winter, they listen between the fierce bursts of the tempest, expecting every moment to hear the cry of human agony, from the crew of some
foundering bark, rise above the wild laugh of the waves; and when morning breaks, they descend to the rugged beach, not knowing whether they may not find it strewn with wrecks and corpses. So tremendous is the power
of the sea on this particular part of the coast, that insulated masses of rock, from ten to twenty tons in weight, are frequently uplifted and hurled about the beach. Whatever stigma once attached to the people of the coasts, as wreckers who allured vessels to destruction, or plundered and murdered the helpless crews cast ashore, a character the very reverse may most justly be claimed by the existing generation. Their conduct in all cases of shipwreck is admirable, and nably do they second the exertions of their amiable and gifted vicar, the Rev. R. S. Hawker, whose performance of his arduous duty is appreciated far beyond the boundaries of old Cornwall.
Many a startling legend of shipwreck can the worthy vicar tell you ; and he will show you, at his vicarage, five figure-heads of ships, and numerous other melancholy relics of his “flotsam and jetsam” searches along the coast of his parish. In his escritoire are no less than fifty or sixty letters of thanks, addressed to him by the relatives of mariners whose mortal remains he has secured from the sea, and laid side by side, to rest in the hallowed earth of his churchyard. Let us visit this churchyard with him, and we shall see objects not seen every day “amongst the tombs;" and hear stories which, melancholy as they are, give us reason proudly to own the men of Cornwall as our fellow-countrymen. Not to speak of the numerous scattered single graves
of drowned sailors, three entire crews of ships here rest together. Nearly all their corpses were found by the vicar in person, who, with his people, searched for them among the rocks and tangled sea-weed, when the storms had spent their fury; and here they received, at his benevolent hands, solemn and befitting Christian sepulture. As a local paper well remarked at the time: “Strangers as they were, receiving their last resting-place from the charity of the inhabitants upon whose coast they were thrown, they have