55

Obituaries,

WILLIAM ASHTON was born at Staincross, Yorkshire, in the year 1859. When in the fourth year of his age he became a scholar in our Staincross Sabbath-school, which he regularly attended until the severe illness overtook him which terminated in death. During the years he was a scholar he perseveringly endeavoured to gain the esteem of his teachers, and this, with his general conduct, gained for him several prizes. When 13 years of age he was struck by the shaft of disease, and for twelve months was unable to leave the house. During this time he was constantly visited by the Superintendent and teachers of the school, who strove to impress him with the necessity of resting upon the atonement ere he could be supported by God's spirit and buoyed up by the hope of a higher life. These conversations, combined with the teachings of his mother and the previous instructions he had received at the school, were instrumental in leading him to the Cross, and from this time, notwithstanding the severity of his affliction, he continued to exercise implicit trust in Jesus Christ, and to hunger and thirst after righteousness. In his sufferings he manifested great patience, and often cried, 'I shall not be long here-I shall go to be with Jesus.' Knowing how keenly his parents felt the pangs of approaching separation, he endeavoured to console them by urging them not to fret for him, for he had no desire to be better here, but would be far happier on high. He was greatly delighted when his friends visited him and sung of the realms of the blessed, or spoke to him of 'the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ.' Death had now no terror for him-he viewed him not as a grim monster, the enemy of man, but as the harbinger of peace-the herald of a glorious immortality. The writer saw him shortly before his death, and was much struck with his gentleness of spirit, and patient waiting for the call of his Lord. He departed from this world of toil and suffering October 21, 1873, leaving behind him a bright testimony to the power of the Lord, and a direct confutation to the opinions of those who argue against youthful conversions. SAMUEL LLOYD.

MARGARET ELIZABETH CLIFTON was born at Dudley Port, in the Dudley circuit, September 11, 1856, and died August 22, 1863. In early life she was sent to the Sabbath-school, which she regularly

attended until prevented by illness. She was regular in her attendance at the preaching service, and she heard to profit, which was seen in her daily walk and life. But it was not till September, 1872, in a prayer, at the close of the Sabbath day's preaching services, that she experienced the new birth unto righteousuess. She found peace through believing in Jesus. But cruel consumption had already begun to do its work. During her last affliction she was perfectly resigned to the will of her heavenly Father. She was never heard to murmur or complain, but would frequently break forth in singing and praising God. On one occasion she said, 'My end is near, but I am waiting patiently for the Lord to take me. Bless his name for ever.' And she requested us to sing, 'Rock of ages, cleft for me,' &c. And when the writer asked her if all was right, she exclaimed, while tears of joy sparkled in her eyes, 'O yes, O yes! I feel so happy. I should like,' she said, 'for my father and mother, and sisters and brothers, to give their hearts to God. I should not like them to be lost-no, not one of them.' And, turning her attention to the Sabbath-school, she said, 'Tell the Bible-class to give their hearts to God at once, or it may be for over too late.' On another occasion, while we were conversing about the goodness and love of God, and the glories of heaven, she exclaimed, 'O, its beautiful! its beautiful! I know the Lord is too wise to err, and too good to be unkind;' and we sang, according to her own request, that beautiful hymn, commencing

'There is a beautiful land, where all is bright;

No sickness, no pain, no sorrow, no night.'

The morning of her departure came. About two hours before her spirit took its flight I visited her, and asked her if Jesus was precious She exclaimed, 'O yes, O yes.' And after affectionately requesting all the family who were present to look to Jesus, she pillowed her head on the bosom of Jesus and gently breathed her life out there.

JOHN KITCHEN.

Y friends and scholars, if you will open your Bibles at Gen. i. 26, 27, you will find God saying, "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him, male and female created he them."

Adam and Eve-how happy they were in the garden of Eden! While they loved and obeyed God everything smiled around them; fields, flowers, beautiful birds, and gentle animals all were for their enjoyment. Sweet sounds and rich fruits all contributed to make them happy. But as soon as they broke God's word, and did what God commanded them not to do, how wretched they at once became !

They were immediately afraid of everything; the very animals began to growl at them, the winds to howl, the thunder to roll, and the lightning to play around them. Wretched and miserable, they were driven from the lovely garden and sent to wander over the wild desert earth, friendless and alone, and all because they disobeyed God.

We shall pass over Noah who obeyed God in the building of the ark; of Abraham who offered up his son Isaac; of Joseph who was hated by his brethren, &c.; of Moses who exclaimed that he would rather suffer affliction with the people of God than be called the son of Pharoah's daughter; of Joshua who declared, "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." There are several more, whose names I forbear to name at present, who obeyed God in all things.

My young friends, if you will read the first and second verse of the one-hundred-and-nineteenth Psalm, you will see whom David thought to be the happiest people. He was one who had seen many ups-anddowns in life. He had once been a poor shepherd boy, was envied by his brothers, and hated by Saul who sent men after him to kill him if they could. He was obliged to flee for his life, and hid himself in dark caves and wild woods where he had nothing to eat, and was very hungry. But during all his trials he was happy in loving and obeying God; and the beautiful psalms he wrote-so full of joy and gratitude-prove this, and also his history as we read it in the first and second book of Samuel. He was beloved of God, and was called the man after God's own heart. Now, just contrast him with Saul, a man who never was happy, and why? Because he was a bad man, and did not love or obey God. Just think of his miserable death, which you may read in 1 Sam. xxxi., and it will make you tremble lest you should break God's Word.

Think, again, of Daniel, happy even in a den of lions, because he obeyed God, and served him amidst heathens who served idols. He would not bow down to a king even to save his life. And mark how God blessed him, and sent an angel to shut the lion's mouths, as you may read in the 6th chapter of Daniel. As you read the chapter, notice how miserable the king was, even in his fine palace, while Daniel was happy even in the den of lions, and ask yourself, How was this ?

Think again of Jonah, my dear young friends, fleeing from God instead of obeying him, and the misery he got by his foolish conduct. But for God's mercy, he would have perished, and perished in his sins. My dear young children, compare him and St. Paul, who, amid perils by sea and perils by land, was always rejoicing. Why? because he delighted to do God's will.

If you will look these facts carefully over, and read the parts of the Bible I have referred you to, I think you will see how you may get true happiness, not what some call happiness, and are contented with, that of eating and drinking, of idle play or sinful pleasure, but that heartfelt happiness that consists in obeying and loving the God who made both you and me, and who in mercy preserves us from day to day. He sent his beloved son into this world, and he has said, "Whosoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life."

59

FREDDIE'S FEAT.

BY C. A. C. HADSELLE.

'Let me, Mamma! Do let me ! I won't fall.

I-know-I-won't!' and the great, honest, earnest blue eyes grew larger and darker and bluer in the depths of their pleading as, with one hand pulling hard at his mother's apron, he stood stretching the other towards a point a little way off where, at a glance, might be seen the object of his solicitude.

'It'll die!' he exclaimed, more excitedly as some new manifestations met his gaze. 'Don't you see? it'll die! Quick! Mamma, quick!'

Freddie was not aware of the intensity of that final tug at the apronstring, but it broke, and losing his balance, he reeled almost to falling headlong. At another time he might have stopped to notice the mishap, but now he only made a fresh clutch with both hands amid the ample fold of his mother's skirt, and said in low trembling tones, as though his infant soul were filled with despair, 'O! Mamma !' There was no resisting him now, with his brimming eyes, quivering lips, and the look of deep reproach and sorrow overspreading his features. Indeed he had not been resisted at all, but what he asked had, from the first, seemed an impossibility; hence there was hesitation, and that it was which grieved his tender heart.

his

'I can't, Freddie. You can't. It's no use to try. The ladder is too heavy, even if you could climb it when '—

'Come and see, Mamma! Come and see! I can 'most carry it my-own-self,' cried the child, eagerly, not comprehending the difficulties in the way. Persuaded, but not convinced, Mrs. Finch swung the dismembered apron on a rose-bush near, and followed her boy to the scene of disaster.

A barn swallow had, by some inexplicable manoeuvring, succeeded in entangling himself in one end of a strong horsehair, the other being securely fastened in the mud-wrought walls of the remarkable nests which these creatures build. The whole colony-several hundreds of them, at least—were pitching and diving around the unfortunate bird in the most frantic manner, filling the air with their shrill screams, and almost forming a canopy of their densely-plumaged little bodies. How they cut the air in their swift flights, their long wings and forked tails darting in every direction, upward, downward, to the right, the left, sidewise, crosswise, and every other wise, till the wonder was-and it seemed at times as if this was their intention that