he went quite drunk aboard the packet to return home. The night proved dark and stormy. On the passage, he demanded liquors; the captain of the vessel, pitying his state, refused to give him any; upon which with a dreadful oath, he swore he would have drink enough, and instantly jumped overboard! The attempts to save him were in vain.

A few days afterward, the body was thrown ashore, with a peculiarly awful circumstance: one arm was withdrawn from

the coat; and as the unhappy wretch was a very good swimmer, it was scarcely possible to prevent inferring from it, that he had come to himself in the water, and had begun to free himself from his clothes, to avail himself of his skill in this exercise.

Another circumstance, though it may seem trifling, marked also the will of God, that this awful end should be put to its longslighted, long abused forbearance. He had

a favourite Newfoundland dog, who had plunged into the water, and at his master's command saved the lives of strangers. The dog was almost always with him, but this fatal night was a rare exception. The faithful animal was prevented by absence from saving his master, or sharing in the same destruction.

DAUGHTER OF CHARLES THE FIRST.

A little daughter of Charles I. died when only four years old. When on her deathbed, she was desired by one of her servants to pray. She said, she could not say her long prayer, meaning the "Our Father;" but that she would try to say her short one. "Lighten my darkness, O Lord God, and let me not sleep the sleep of death." As she said this, she laid her little head on the pillow and expired.

SOME

C

PARTICULARS

OF THE DEATH

BED OF A SUNDAY SCHOLAR

IN CORNWALL:

Given by her Teacher.

attended the Sunday school in the Parish of regularly for many months'; but although she repeated long lessons, they were seldom perfect; and she never appeared to understand, or take an interest in what she read, or learned, and paid very little attention to what she was taught; consequently she could seldom reply to any questions asked; and when at church, I am concerned to say, she was either amusing herself with looking at the congregation,

or she was sleeping. Such was the character of my poor departed scholar; and hav. ing lived without any thought about eternal things, it was not likely that when she came on her sick and dying bed, she would find it easy to turn her attention to them.

No, my dear children, let me assure you that her inattention in health made the work much harder when she came to die; it seemed as if she not know how to think of what was so near to her. She was only ill a few weeks: she first had a fever, which threw her into a rapid decline; and though all who saw her were persuaded that her time here must be very short; yet this poor girl could not believe that she should soon die, and appeared perfectly unconscious of what awaited her, often talking of what she should do, and where she should go, when she recovered. Her minister and teacher watched over their poor dying scholar with many hopes and fears; they talked to and prayed with her, but alas! they were grieved and often very sorrowful, for they feared that she did not pray for herself, nor could they see that she had any saving concern about her own soul. O, if dear children would try to think of heaven and hell-of death and judgment to come! If they would try to pray! If they would try to delight in reading the Bible! If they would try to get new hearts! If they would try to love Jesus, the Friend of sinners, and even the Friend of all those little sinful children, who are made willing to hate sin, and to love him: if, my dear children, you would try to do these things, I can assure you that God the Holy Spirit would help you, and you would by degrees be made new creatures in Christ

Jesus. You would then, my little dears, be happy in health; you would be happy on a sick bed; and still more happy when you came to die; and, after death, find your. selves in heaven with Jesus-washed in his most precious blood from all your sins, and presented faultless before the Father.

WE SHALL SEE HIM AS HE IS.

O how I long to be

In yonder happy place,

Where, sinless, I at length shall see
My Saviour face to face.

'Tis sweet to hear them tell
About his wondrous love;
But 'twill be better far to dwell
With saints in heav'n above.

While here on earth we stay,
Where Jesus is not seen;
We cannot hear, or read, or pray,
Without some cloud between.

But when our souls have flown

To that bright world of bliss ;
Then we shall know as we are known,
And see him as he is.

THE VERNAL AND AUTUMNAL CROCUS. By Mr. White of Selborne.

Say, what impels amid surrounding snow Congealed, the Crocus' flamy bud to grow? Say, what retards among the summer's blaze The autumnal bloom, till pale declining days? The God of seasons! whose pervading pow'r Controls the sun, or sheds the fleecy show'r. His bids each flow 'r his quick'ning word obey, Or to each lingering bud injoins delay.

Once on a time, a paper Kite
Was mounted to a wondrous height,
Where. giddy with its elevation,
It thus expressed self-admiration.
"See how yon crowd of gazing people
Admires my light above the steeple!
How would they wonder, if they knew
All that a kite like me can do!
Were I but free, I'd take a flight,
And pierce the clouds beyond their sight:
But, ah, like a poor prisoner bound,
My string confines me to the ground.
I'd brave the eagle's towering wing,
Might I but fly without a string."
It tugged and pulled, while thus it spoke,
To break the string-at last it broke.
Deprived at once of all its stay

In vain it tried to soar away;
Unable its own weight to bear,

It fluttered downward through the air;
Unable its own course to guide,
The winds soon plunged it in the tide