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church provided for him an assistant minister; and, for some years after his recovery, he continued his ministerial labours with great comfort and success.
In the year 1712, Dr. Watts was seized with a violent fever, which greatly impaired his constitution. In consequence of continued indisposition, he was unable to perform all the duties of his pastoral office, and therefore, Mr. Price, his assistant, was appointed as the co-pastor with Mr. Watts. The latter, at this time, was invited to reside in the house of Sir Thomas Abney, of Abney Park, Stoke Newington. This invitation was accepted, and he resided with this excellent family, on terms of the most affectionate intercourse, for the long period of thirty-six years. Here, as his health permitted, he continued to devote himself to study and the preparation of works designed to promote the welfare of man, and the glory of God.
It was while Dr. Watts was resident in this hospitable mansion — an engraving of which precedes this notice that he published his very excellent work, entitled “Divine and Moral Songs for the Use of Children." This valuable work was published in the year 1720. Dr. Watts' Songs for children are admirably suited to the capacity of children—they are beautifully simple, and breathe the true poetic spirit. Immediately after their publication, they had a very extensive sale; and they still are deservedly greatly admired. We believe that more copies of them have been printed and sold, than of any other uninspired poetic work. Millions of young persons have delighted in reading and committing them to memory. They most interestingly teach the principles of morality and true religion. The young person who has committed them to memory, and who duly thinks upon the truths which they inculcate, will derive therefrom great advantages.
Dr. Watts published several other poetic volumes. His version of the Psalms of David, and his Books of Hymns, for public worship, are used by many Christian congregations; and many of his versions of the Psalms and his hymns are very excellent; and have aided the devotions and been blessed to the edification of countless multitudes.
He also published many excellent works on education, and on religious subjects. His work “ On the Improvement of the Mind," is one which ought to be carefully read by young persons ; and his “Logic, or, The Art of Reasoning,” is a very useful work.
Although Dr. Watts was a very learned man, he was very modest and humble. He did not assume any haughty airs, or proud looks. He was not like some persons, who, having obtained a small amount of knowledge, pretend to be wonderfully wise, and to know everything. Such persons oftentimes render themselves ridiculous by their vain conceits and pretences.
In the year 1728, both the Universities of Aberdeen and Edinburgh, unknown to Mr. Watts, conferred on him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. This, however, was well bestowed as a testimonial to superior worth and learning.
Dr. Watts was not less esteemed as a preacher than as a writer. His preaching was highly instructive and profitable. With unaffected solemnity he delivered the important truths of Divine revelation.
In the last illness of Dr. Watts, he richly enjoyed the support and comfort which true religion alone can give. He had devoted himself from his youth to the service of God; and although several times he was severely afflicted,
! and his constitution was much injured thereby and by close study, he lived until he was in his seventy-fifth year. He peacefully fell asleep in Jesus, November 25th, 1748. His remains were buried in Bunhill Fields buryingground.
Abney House, in which Dr. Watts so long resided, has been removed, and the grounds, a few years since, were converted into a cemetery.
We shall close this article with some lines from the pen of Dr. Watts, on the rose· How fair is the rose ! what a beautiful flower,
The glory of April and May;
And they wither and die in a day.
Yet the rose has one powerful virtue to boast,
Above all the flowers of the field ; When its leaves are all dead, and its fine colours lost,
Still how sweet a perfume it will yield ! So frail is the youth and the beauty of men,
Though they bloom and look gay like the rose;
Time kills them as fast as he goes.
Since both of them wither and fade;
This will scent like a rose when I'm dead.
SICK OF BEING PUNISHED.
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN TWO LITTLE GIRLS. Kate." I wish I could go to some other school, Mary, for I do not like to be punished.”
Mary.—“No one likes to be punished. But, Kate, when one likes to do wrong, one must expect to pay for it. Did the teacher hurt you much ? "
Kate.--"No, I was so mad I did not care for it; if she had nearly broken my head, I should not have cried a tear."
Mary.-"I take care not to do wrong, and so do not get punished.”
Kate.—“Well, I am not so sly, and always get found out." Mary.-"I should think
tired of doing wrong, for it must be easier to do right than wrong." Kate.
:-"I am not so sure of that. I like to have my own way once in a while.”
Mary.--"If your own way is wrong, and brings you into trouble, I should give it up, and get a better way.
Kate._"Why, do you believe I could always act right, as you do ? "
Mary.—" Certainly! Don't you think I could act wrong, as you do, if I tried to do so ? Do you think your little kitten will scratch me if I take her ?”
Kate.--" No, indeed! She scratched me once, and I soon taught her better. I should like to see her scratch anybody now.”
Mary.—“How did you cure her so completely ?”
Kate.—“I beat her soundly, and would not give her anything to eat for a whole day.” Mary smiles, and Kate says, “What are you laughing at, Mary? I do not see anything to laugh at."
Mary.--" Nor did the kitten. And yet it is rather odd that the kitten left off doing wrong, after being punished only once, and you cannot, after being punished a dozen times."
Kate.--"Yes, but the kitten isn't a girl.”
Mary.--"I know she is not, and that makes me wonder the more, for she ought not to be expected to do so well as an intelligent girl. Now confess, Kate, that you can do right if
you choose to do so ? You know you can, and I wish you would, for my sake.” Kate.
:-“Why for your sake, when I have to take all the punishment?”
Mary.—"I really believe that every time you are punished, I suffer more than you do. I love you, Kate, and cannot bear to see you suffer."
Kate—“You are a dear one, Mary, and there is no denying it. Now, I'll tell you what I mean to do, for I am desperate"
Mary.“ Don't say so."
Kate. “Hear me out, Mary. I am desperately sick of being punished, and not a little ashamed to be worse than my kitten, and so you see, I am going",
Mary.-" Where, dear Kate ? Not to leave the school, I hope ? "
Kate.—“No, but to love it, and try to be as good as you are, you little philosopher. There" (kissing her), “there, let me seal my promise with a kiss, and when you see me doing wrong again, just say, “Kitty, Kitty, Kitty!' and I
shall take the hint! Little did I think when I punished my kitten, that the blows were to fall so directly on my own head."- Common School Journal.
THE SNOW STORM.
BY PROFESSOR ALDEN.
“O, it snows! it snows ! ” said William, as he rose from his bed and went to the window, and looked out upon the fields, which were white with the first snow that had fallen for the season. He dressed himself hastily, and came down to the breakfast room, saying as he entered, “It snows, and I am glad. I hope it will snow all day, and keep on till it is over my head.”
He wished to go out immediately and play in the snow, and was rather inclined to be displeased when his mother told him he must not go out till after breakfast and prayers.
His appetite for his breakfast was not very good, nor were his thoughts always where they should have been during the offering of the morning prayer. With one part of it he was not well pleased. It was a petition for an abatement of the storm in reference to the condition of those who had not the means of guarding themselves against its inclemency.
After prayers, he put on his great-coat, and tied down his pantaloons, and fastened the lappets of his cap over his ears, and put on his mittens, and went out into the storm.
The snow was falling fast, and the wind blew fiercely throwing it into heaps. Into these William plunged, sometimes sinking up to his arms. When he had been out about half an hour, plunging and rolling in the snow, his mother thought it was best for him to come in, and accordingly called him. He started immediately, but took occasion on the way to roll over several times, in order that as much snow might adhere to his clothes as possible. He thought he looked well when he came in, white with the snow, and stood before the fire.