T.-0, John, that's awful too! may I

Be saved from sin before I die!
Can I, a sinner, be forgiven,

And when I die, go safe to heaven ?
J.-Why, if you'll go with me to day

And hear God's servant preach and pray,
You'll hear him point out wisdom's way ;
And if the Lord lead you therein,
You'll then be truly saved from sin.
Christ is the blessed way to heaven!
By him poor sinners are forgiven :
Faith in his precious name and blood
Will give poor wretches peace with God,
And if the Lord give you this faith,
You need not be afraid of death.

T.-Well, I'll go with you; yet I'm thinking,

If father still go on in drinking,
He'll bring us all to perfect ruin,
And I sha'n't have e'en rags to go in.
Last night he stamp'd, and raved, and swore,
And turned poor mother out of door :
He upset all the things we had,

And dragg'd us children out of bed.
J.-0, Tom, as you grow up in years,

Beware of father's sinful snares :
Should friends (pretended friends, I mean)
Invite you to drink ale or gin,
Or anything, more than you need,
Shun them at once-of them take heed :
Thousands there are in filth and rags,
With naked feet and naked legs,
Who, but for parents' drunkenness,
Might all appear in decent dress.
I therefore hope you'll caution take,

And not of father's sins partake.
T.—Is there any scripture passage

Which brings to drunkards any message ?
J.-Yes, and an awful message too!

I'll state a few of them to you. “For the drunkard and the glutton shall come to poverty : and drowsiness shall clothe a man with rags.”—Prov. xxiii. 21.

“Nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, shall inherit the kingdom of God.”—1 Cor. vi. 10.


“ Envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like; they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God.” Gal. v. 21.

T,-Hold, John, that's quite enough, do pray

That I may never go that way.
J.—Just let me state one passage more ;

You'll therein see God doth abhor
This sin; for parents were to bring
A drunken son, that men might fling
Stones at him, till he bowed his head,

And fell down lifeless, yea, quite dead.
T.-That's vastly strange! can it be true ?

J.-I'll now the passage bring to view :“If a man have a stubborn and rebellious son, which will not obey the voice of his father, nor the voice of his mother, and that, when they have chastened him, will not hearken unto them; then shall his father and his mother lay hold on him, and bring him out unto the elders of his city, and unto the gate of his place: and they shall say unto the elders of his city, This our son is stubborn and rebellious; he will not obey our voice; he is a glutton and a drunkard. And all the men of his city shall stone him with stones, that he die."-Deut. xxi. 18—21.

T.-This dreadful crime of drunkenness

Brings infamy and sad distress :
Abhorrid of God, may I it shun,
And from its hateful dangers run.


WEARY, and wounded, and worn,

Wounded and ready to die,
A soldier they left, all alone and forlorn,

On the field of the battle to lie.
The dead and the dying alone

Could their presence and pity afford,
Whilst, with a sad and a terrible tone,
He sang the song of the sword.

“Fight! fight! fight!
Though a thousand fathers die;

Fight! fight! fight!
Though thousands of children cry;


Fight! fight! fight!
Whilst mothers and wives lament;

And fight! fight! fight!
Whilst millions of money are spent.

Fight! fight! fight!
Should the cause be foul or fair ;
Though all that's gained be an empty name,

And a tax too great to bear :
An empty name, and a paltry fame,

And thousands lying dead;
Whilst every glorious victory
May raise the price of bread.

War! war! war!
Fire, and famine, and sword;
Desolate fields, and desolate towns,

And thousands scattered abroad,
With never a home, and never a shed;

Whilst kingdoms perish and fall,
And hundreds of thousands are lying dead,

And all—for nothing at all.
Ah! why should such mortals as I,

Kill those whom we never could hate ? 'Tis obey your commander or die;'

'Tis the law of the sword and the state. For we are the veriest slaves,

That ever were brought unto birth; For to please the whim of a tyrant's will Is all our use upon earth.

War! war! war!
Musket, and powder, and ball:
Ah! what do we fight so for ?

Ah! why have we battles at all ? 'Tis justice must be done they say,

The nation's honour to keep; Alas! that justice is so dear,

And human life so cheap. 'Tis, Oh! that a Christian land

A professedly Christian state,
Should thus despise that high command

So useful and so great-
Delivered by Christ himself on earth,

Our constant guide to be,
To‘love our neighbour as ourselves,

And bless our enemy.'


War! war! war!
Misery, murder, and crime,
Are all the blessings I've seen in thee

From my youth to the present time;
Misery, murder, and crime-

Crime, misery, murder, and woe:
Ah! would I had known in my younger days,

A tenth of what now I know.

Ah! had I but known in my happier days—

In my hours of boyish glee-
A tenth of the horrors and crime of war-

A tithe of its misery-
I now had been joining a happy band

Of wife and children dear,
And had quietly died in my native land,

Instead of perishing here.

And many a long, long day of woe,

And sleepless nights untold,
And drenching rain, and drifting snow,

And weariness, famine, and cold ;
And worn-out limbs, and aching heart,

And grief too great to tell,
And bleeding wound, and piercing smart,

Had I escaped full well.

But though, with such sorrow and woe,

Thy progress must always abound;
Ah! would it were only below
That the fruits of thy curse could be found:

But war! war! war!
From all that I ever could see,
Full many a groan, in the future world,

Must be traced, I fear, to thee.”

Weary, and wounded, and worn

Wounded and ready to die,
A soldier, they left, all alone and forlorn,

On the field of the battle to lie.
The dead and the dying alone

Could their presence and pity afford;

Whilst thus, with a sad and a terrible tone, (Oh! would that these truths were more perfectly known,) He sang the song of the sword.




“ You took me, William, when a girl, unto your home and heart,
To bear in all your after-fate a fond and faithful part;
And tell me, have I ever tried that duty to forego,
Or pined there was not joy for me when you were sunk in woe ?
No; I would rather share your tear than any other's glee,
For though you're nothing to the world, you're ALL THE WORLD


You make a palace of my shed, this rough-hewn bench a throne;
There's sunlight for me in your smiles, and music in your tone.
I look upon you when you sleep-my eyes with tears grow dim,
I cry, 'Oh Parent of the Poor, look down from heaven on him;
Behold him toil from day to day, exhausting strength and soul ;
Oh look with mercy on him, Lord, for thou canst make him

whole !

And when at last relieving sleep has on my eyelids smiled,
How oft are they forbade to close in slumber by our child ?
I take the little murmerer that spoils my span of rest,
And feel it is a part of thee I lull upon my breast.
There's only one return I crave, I may not need it long,
And it may soothe thee when I'm where the wretched feel no


I ask not for a kinder tone, for thou wert ever kind;
I ask not for less frugal fare, my fare I do not mind;
I ask not for attire more gay—if such as I have got
Suffice to make me fair to thee, for more I murmur not.
But I would ask some share of hours that you on clubs bestow;
Of knowledge which you prize so much, might I not something


Subtract from meetings amongst men each eve an hour for me;
Make me companion of your soul, as I may safely be.
If you will read, I'll sit and work; then think when you're away ;
Less tedious I shall find the time, dear William, of your stay.
A meet companion soon I'll be for e'en your studious hours,
And teacher of those little ones you call your cottage flowers;
And if we be not rich and great, we may be wise and kind,
And as my heart can warm your heart, so may my mind your


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