and immediately added, "Now is my salvation complete; Christ has confessed me, and I have confessed him." This he audibly repeated. His aunt then asked him if he were afraid to die; William replied, "No, I am going to Jesus; don't fret for me." He also told his mother that she was not to fret for him; and remarked to her at the same time, "I am going to Jesus, and we shall only part to meet again." After a short pause he lifted up one of his hands, and observed to his mother, "This hand, I hope, mother, will soon be cold; I wish I had been with my God a long time ago." He was reminded that a crown in heaven was waiting for him; to which he answered, "I am going there to receive a crown of gold." He afterwards remarked, that "the God of this world could not save; but," he added. "my God can, and he will save me." Then addressing those near him, he said, "You must pray in spirit and in truth;" and, in a few moments, commenced singing one of his favourite hymns, commencing with the words, "God moves in a mysterious way," &c. After which he began to repeat the Lord's Prayer. He then exclaimed, "Glory be to God for what he has done to my soul;" and repeated further portions of well-known hymns. The last sentence which was ever heard to come from his mouth was, Glory be to God for what he has done for me on earth;" and the last words he was heard to articulate were "Heaven! heaven!" which were heard by his father, who was standing by his bedside. His soul left its earthly abode without giving vent to a single murmur, or even manifesting a desire to remain any longer in this vale of tears; leaving behind him this comfort to his disconsolate and bereaved parents, the sweet recollection of his once happy memory, and the certain conviction of his eternal happiness beyond the grave. In his life-time he showed an ardent and affectionate desire for attending the Sunday-schools, the houses of prayer, and Divine worship, in order that he might the better be instructed to know and love his Saviour Jesus Christ, with whom he now enjoys a blessed immortality. ELIZABETH MARGARET HAYES. ELIZABETH MARGARET HAYES was born at Newent, Gloucestershire, June 28th, 1834. From her infancy she was remarkable for an amiable and affectionate disposition. An aunt, with whom she lived for some time, remarks that she seemed to forget herself, and to live to make others happy. At an early age she became a scholar in the Wesleyan Sunday school, where she grew in wisdom as she grew in stature: she cherished a sincere regard for her teacher to the day of her death. When about eleven years of age, an Independent chapel was built in the town, and a church formed on the plan laid down in the New Testament. Of this church her mother became a member; yet so attached was Elizabeth to the school where she had learned the first principles of the doctrine of Christ, that she chose to remain there, and continued a scholar for two years from that period. But From the time Elizabeth became a hearer at the Independent chapel she listened to the sound of the gospel with peculiar attention, keeping her cheerful and interesting eye fixed on the preacher throughout the longest sermons. though a diligent hearer, no clear evidence of a change of heart was perceptible until she attended the first of a series of meetings held for the purpose of imploring the Divine blessing on the sabbath school. It was a service of peculiar solemnity: her mind was deeply affected; the Lord opened her heart; and as she returned, she said, "I never attended such a delightful service before." From that time a decided change took place, both in her | spirit and conduct, and she longed to be once again in the sabbath-school. She was accordingly admitted a scholar at her newly chosen place of worship, where she attended on the following sabbath; and so anxious was she lest she should be too late, that she rose on that morning at four o'clock. At school she was serious and attentive, and was only late on two occasions, when she stayed to assist a little girl in her first attempts to reach the school The pleasing change that had taken place in her led many to anticipate the time when she would become a member of the church on earth; but such hopes were not to be realized. A few months after, while at a prayer-meeting, she was taken ill, and with difficulty reached her home, never to leave it again until carried to the grave. There appears to have been in Elizabeth's mind a strong impression of the uncertainty of life. A few days before her last illness she had visited a young friend, and on parting had taken a lock of hair from her head, and, giving it to her friend, said, with seriousness, "Keep this for my sake; I shall never visit you again." It was true; for, though they met a few days after, Elizabeth was then on her death-bed, and could only say to her sorrowing companion, "Do not weep, but follow me to heaven; then we shall part no more." This she urged on her with tears of affection. From the commencement of her illness she expressed no wish to recover, except to be useful. On her pastor's first visit to her, he inquired, "Are you afraid to die?" to which she replied, "No; I believe I shall go to heaven." "But," he asked, "do you not know that you are a sinner?" With tears, she replied, "Yes, I am a sinner, a great sinner; I know it, and I feel it." "How, then, can you," it was further asked, "as a sinner, hope to go to heaven?" "I trust in what Jesus has done for me," was her answer. "This is my hope; it encourages me; I rest on Christ, on him alone." Her confidence remained firm to the last; and her conversations on experimental subjects were more like those of a mature Christian than a mere babe in Christ. The conversion of her relatives was a subject very near her heart. She wished for opportunities to converse with them alone; and when thus alone, she would not allow a minute to be occupied in inquiries about the body, but, with affectionate entreaties, would beseech them to seek for pardon through a crucified Redeemer. When any one was about to engage in prayer, she anxiously looked to see if her father and mother were present. For her father she was painfully anxious to the last, asking, with tears, "Father, will you meet me in glory?" As her mother stood by her bedside, weeping, she said, "I do not like to see you cry: if I die I shall go to heaven, and be happier than you could make me here; and you will meet me in heaven." The assurance she felt that her mother would join her again, often encouraged the dear little sufferer. Her gratitude to those who waited on her was also very pleasing. "If I can do nothing else for them," she said, "I can pray for them." Her thoughtful countenance will not soon be forgotten by those whose privilege it was to be with her. Her patience also was remarkable. She had become somewhat irritable by frequent affliction, but religion had subdued it. She was calm and contented, yet often expressed a fear lest a murmuring word should escape her lips while suffering acute pain. During her illness she was unwilling to see any one unless they would talk of the Saviour. Mother," she would say, "those persons stayed in the room so long, and did not say a word about religion: pray, do not ask them to come again; I cannot bear to talk of anything worldly." 46 In the exercise of prayer she greatly delighted. No one who came to see her was allowed to leave without prayer; and if two or three were present, each was asked to pray in turn. On one occasion she said, "Oh, how I wish the room was full of praying people, that we might do nothing else but pray!" and as night drew on she would say, "Who is going to sit up with me?-let it be some one who can pray :" and five or six times during the night she would ask, "Is it not time for prayer again?" On hearing the voice of her minister on the stairs, she would say, "Here is Mr. B.; now we can have prayer." If ever so much exhausted, she would refuse refreshment, rather than lose an opportunity of listening to the word of God, or uniting in prayer. One night, during her illness, she fancied herself alone, and was wrestling with God, in the most affecting cries, for the salvation of a dear relative: "Lord, save him," she repeated again and again; "may I meet him at last in heaven!" She knew not that a pious mother was mingling her prayers and tears with those of a dear child. But the time drew near when she must die; and as she entered the valley she remembered her favourite exercise, and, raising her enfeebled hand, said, "Pray, pray, pray!" and the word died on her lips, and she became insensible to all below; and, after many painful struggles, she fled away to the happy land where prayer is turned to praise. She fell asleep in Jesus on Sunday, May 28th, 1848. Thus at a prayer-meeting she was awakened, at a prayer-meeting she was taken ill, and her last word was, "Pray!" Many had walked in the buryingground connected with the new chapel; and amongst the aged there appeared to be a secret wish to be the first to sleep in the dust so closely allied to the sanctuary where they had heard the gospel of their salvation; but no one ventured to predict that one so young and promising would consecrate the spot: but God's ways are not our ways. On the Thursday following her death, our young friend was carried to the grave by teachers of the school, and followed by twelve of her young companions. They saw the place where she was laid, and, with many tears, left her, until the morning of the resurrection, when she "Will burst her chains with sweet surprise, And in her Saviour's image rise." A vast concourse of persons attended the funeral, being the first that had taken place at a Dissenting buryingground. On the following sabbath evening her death was improved to a crowded and attentive congregation, from Isaiah xl 11: "He shall gather the lambs in his arms." Every one present appeared to feel that a religion which could produce such effects must be a reality. The Children's Gallery. THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL GIRL IN Your little school-fellow, JW, when he fell out of the boat the other A STORM. xvi. 30. "What shall I do to be saved?" Acrs week, had neither of these means offered to him, and, poor little fellow, he was drowned! AN important question is here presented to our attention, the answer to which would be according to the position of the person presenting it. For example: A house is on fire, and the terrified and affrighted inmates are proposing the inquiry; the answer is, "Descend by the fire-escape-throw yourself into the arms of that strong man, anxious to receive you!-rush out of the house by every or any means! Do one or either of these things, and you shall be saved." Another person has fallen into the sea; what must he do to be saved? There is a rope thrown him-let him grasp it; or a boat is nigh, and a friendly hand is held out to him-let him lay hold on it, and he shall be saved! But souls are perishing! you are in danger! Can you not see it? Alas! it is to be feared many are perishing who know or heed it not; but if you feel your danger, and are anxiously asking the question, "What must I do to be saved?" oh! then we can point you to Jesus, and say, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved." Let me try to make plain what I mean by a striking incident, in which a little Sunday-school girl had her large share in the fearful storm of February last. There is a small vessel upon the great sea, expecting every moment to be swallowed in the waste of waters: the crew are at their wit's ends; but there is one among them, a little girl ments, they set them on fire; "and then," said they, we prayed to God to save us, making solemn vows, if spared, to consecrate ourselves to him.” Those burning clothes-what a signal of distress! How it must have shone on that dark, dark sea! It was their last resource. Will God appear for them? Yes; the faith of that dear child shall be honoured. That light was seen afar; sturdy but warm hearts are bent upon their rescue. Another small vessel is bearing down upon that fading light; they near, they cautiously approach. Will the vessel sink before they reach her? No; they hasten into this ark of mercy, and, as before, scarcely had they got on board, when the second vessel sunk, to be seen no more! Oh! was not this being saved? and, through God's good providence, they were landed in a port of safety; and the united testimony of both crews was this, "The only comfort we received was from the confidence of that little girl that we should be saved." She had doubtless been taught in her Sabbath-school that "whosoever calleth upon the name of the Lord shall be saved," or had heard the declaration, "Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver thee," and she would not give up God's promise; and hence she said, "God will save us; I am sure he will." under six years of age, with God's truth in her heart, whose confidence and courage surprise them all. Her father was the captain, speaking to whom she said, "Father, do let us get into the boat." He answered, "It is of no use; we shall all be capsized (upset) in a moment." But the entreaty was repeated: "Father, do get into the boat. I know if we go into the boat we shall be saved. God will save us; I am sure he will." While she spoke these words the wind fell, and it continued calmer for about twenty minutes; they all got into the boat, and in a few minutes after the vessel sunk! They were not saved yet; the storm arose again: for five hours they were tossed about in that frail boat. Oh! what an anxious time was that! At last another small vessel, like unto the one they had left, was seen. She came nearer and nearer, until the little boat was alongside, and presently they were all on board the vessel. But were they saved now? Oh! no; danger and death, which they hoped to have passed, was still at hand. The gale continued, and the vessel of refuge, in which were now nine persons, including two women and the little girl, began to sink also; and the horrors of that scene were thus related by them: "No tongue can describe the agony we felt, expecting every moment to be launched into eternity;" but the little girl's "I know that God will save us-I am sure he will," still kept hope alive. At last the crews, worn out and exhausted, were about to cease their efforts in despair. To continue at the pumps seemed their only means of escape; but strength was wearing out. The women said, "Let us make yet one effort more;" and stripping themselves of their gar-selves to the boat. Had they not done Now you are all sinners, and need salvation. Do you see and feel your danger, as these shipwrecked people? and, like them, are you praying to God to save you? Are you saying, "What shall I do to be saved?" Oh! then we say, Believe in Jesus Christ; by faith commit your souls to him, as the captain and this crew committed them 1. YOUTH is the seed-time of life; therefore be careful that good seedScriptural principles-be sown in the heart while it is the season of youth. 2. In the sabbath-school you have abundant opportunities for obtaining just the instruction that is suited to the young; highly value and industriously improve them. 3. Recollect that every day this valuable season is becoming shorter; be in earnest about making the best of it. 4. Never forget your responsibility to God for all the advantages you enjoy. Be thankful for them; show your thankfulness by making the right use of them; and let this rule be ever before you, "Where much is given, much is required." A FEW SHORT RULES. 1. Be always in time. Go to school as you go to your meals-with an appetite. Laggards seem as if they cared not for what was provided for them. 2. Be attentive, thoughtful, and diligent. 2. Remember what is taught you, and seek to understand it, and thus to make it fully your own. 4. Reduce your lessons to practice. They that know most ought to do best. YOUR DUTY TO YOUR TEACHERS. you, they would not teach you. 2. Listen to their instructions; you go to school for that purpose. 3. Endeavour to please them by learning what they teach, and by affec tionately obeying their directions. 4. Pray for them as well as for yourselves. Children, have you never met with parrots which have been taught to utter certain words, and even sentences? I have, and have thought it very curious. But though you may teach a parrot to say, "What o'clock or "Past twelve o'clock," you cannot teach a parrot to understand anything about clocks or watches; anything about time or eternity. Should a child at a sabbath-school be no better than a talking parrot? You have not only a tongue to talk with, but a mind to think with. You have a soul capable of knowing, and loving, and glorifying God: "Wisdom is the principal thing, therefore get wisdom; and with all thy getting, get understanding." POLITENESS: How few children think it worth while to be polite to their playmates and friends! By politeness I do not mean a great deal of unnecessary bowing and curtseying, but that delicate attention to the comfort of those around us that springs from a kind, generous heart. How many children enter the room without noticing respectfully those who are older than themselves. I have seen them come in on a cold winter day, and draw their chairs before the fire in such a way that those who were sitting back could not feel the warmth of it at all, and this without the least | apology for such a breach of politeness. Then, perhaps, they interrupt those in the room when they are engaged in conversation, by asking some foolish question, instead of waiting until an opportunity is given them to speak. Then they are impolite to their playmates-their sisters, if they have any. Instead of assisting when their help is really needed, they leave them to help themselves. How many boys think it beneath them to be polite to a sister! |