Lamb !" He was much exhausted with these efforts to speak out the joy of his pardoned soul. His mother took hold of his hand weeping, and saying, 'My dear child, have you found Jesus?" He said, "Mother, I am going home-I am going to that bright mansion above."

66

During the three hours that he lived, I remained with him, holding his hands, and scores of times changing his posture. In the course of this time, as his breathing would enable him, he often said, "Come, Lord Jesus! come, Lord Jesus! take metake me to thyself! I want to go; I long to be gone. Lord Jesus, receive my soul. Do you think I am going?" I once quoted, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death," he took up the words and finished them, "I will fear no evil." I often feared in the painful struggle he might be left to impatience he was so very anxious to be gone. I often told him that he needed patience, and pointed him to that blessed Jesus that had saved his soul for strength to bear his bodily sufferings.

He said about a quarter of an hour before he was gone, with a sweet placid countenance, "Do you think He is waiting to receive me?" I said, "Yes, dear boy, He will receive you in His own time; you have need of patience.' 66 I feel I can wait now His time," he said, with the most lamb-like expression of countenance. Again he stretched his arms, and put them round my neck, that I might move him. I changed his position, and in the course of five or ten minutes his soul was released from its prison of clay without a sigh. His end was indeed "gentle as a summer's eve.' His earnest desires were grantedhe had me with him to the last. He had a most easy dismissal, and, above all things, he died at peace with God, through faith in the blood of the Lamb.

His mortal remains were laid in Clifton Chapelyard. A funeral sermon was preached to a full congregation, affected to tears in hearing of God's mercy to the dying youth, on Lord's-day, December 14th, from Rev. xii. 11: "And they overcame by the blood of the Lamb." Hundreds looked into that grave, and many dear children of God felt it was the depository of chosen dust, and could have said,

"Sons of God by blest adoption,
View the dead with steady eyes;
What is sown thus in corruption,
Shall in incorruption rise.

What is sown in death's dishonour,
Shall revive to glory's light;

What is sown in this weak manner,
Shall be raised in matchless might.

Earthly cavern, to thy keeping
We commit our brother's dust;
Keep it safely, softly sleeping,
Till our Lord demand thy trust.
Sweetly sleep, dear saint, in Jesus,
Thou, with us, shalt wake from death;
Hold he cannot, though he seize us:
We his power defy by faith.

Jesus, Thy rich consolations
To Thy mourning people send;
May we all, with faith and patience,
Wait for our approaching end.
Keep from courage vain or vaunted,
For our change our hearts prepare;
Give us confidence undaunted,
Cheerful hope, and godly fear."

THE EDITOR TO HIS READERS.

THE Editor greets his dear young friends, but has not space to address them, excepting a few words to introduce a notice which he much wishes may be the means of restoring to his home a wandering son.

NAPHTALI JOHNSON left his home (Warboys,

Hunts) on the 24th of September, and has not been heard of since. He took the train from St. Ives to London. Age, 17; height, 5 feet; straight but rather stamping in his walk; hair and eyes dark brown; complexion fair; dress, dark cap and jacket, dark brown waistcoat and trousers, and high-top shoes. A working lad. His afflicted parents would feel truly grateful if this advertisement should be the means of restoring their lost son to them. They are very poor people; cannot therefore offer a reward, but doubt not that any humane reader of this advertisement that can aid them will willingly do so. Address, Edward Johnson, Warboys, Hunts.

Dear children, you have read the above advertisement; but you can but faintly picture the bitter distress of the parents of Naphtali Johnson. Oh, if ever you are tempted to act such a part towards your dear parents, let me entreat you, by the love of your anxious friends, by your own peace of conscience, and by the dread of God's judgment that might follow such a step, never yield to such a temptation.

THE EDITOR.

THE SERVICE OF GOD ALONE IS HAPPINESS.

AH! seek the blush of health on the cheek of death, seek grapes and tropical fruits beneath the pole, seek vitality in a skeleton, and you will find these before you will find happiness in worldly pleasures. Seek God and serve Him, if you would be happy.

ANSWER TO THE LESSON OF THE
FIRST MURDERER.

WHEN Eve and Adam had transgress'd
Against their gracious God,
They never could again be blest
But through a Saviour's blood.
The Spirit wrought on Abel's heart,
And made him freely choose,
By grace divine, that better part
Which worldlings still refuse.

Thus, feasting on the Lamb of God,
In His obedience clad,

By faith he saw that precious blood
Which Christ on Calv'ry shed.

How pure the sacrifice he brought,
Before a holy God!

Not earth's productions Abel sought,
But faith presented-blood!

His brother Cain was satisfied
Fruits of the ground to bring;

Not led in Jesus to confide,
God's sacrifice for sin.

Cain's offering God did disapprove,
While Abel's gift was blest;
Cain's fallen visage plainly show'd
The envy in his breast.

Though God Himself vouchsafed to teach,

Still Cain repented not;

In anger with his brother, he
The ties of love forgot.