Page images
PDF
EPUB

THE YOUNG MOURNER.

passed White Gates after without thinking of poor Harry.

Let the boys who read this bear in mind that they ought not to expose themselves to danger. Many a father's and mother's heart has been almost broken by some sad accident befalling a careless child on the water. I shall never forget poor Harry's father, as he walked on the bank of the river, anxiously watching the men, as they tried to find his poor lad,-or how his elder brother wept fit to break his heart. Beside, it is a wrong thing in the sight of God, to set light upon the life he has given us. It is an awful thing to appear before our Maker until he calls us. Then, if washed in the blood of Jesus, we may receive the summons without fear or alarm.

THE YOUNG MOURNER.

LEAVING her sports, in pensive tune,

'Twas thus a fair young mourner said,
“How sad we are now we're alone-

I wish my mother were not dead!
I can remember she was fair;

And how she kindly looked and smiled,
When she would fondly stroke my hair.

And call me her beloved child.
Before my mother went away,

You never sighed as now you do:
You used to join us at our play,
And be our merriest playmate too.

Father, I can remember when

I first observed her sunken eye,
And her pale, hollow cheek; and then

I told my brother she would die.

And the next morn they did not speak,

But led us to her silent bed; They bade us kiss her icy cheek,

And told us she indeed was dead!

O then I thought how she was kind,

My own belor'd and gentle mother ! And calling all I knew to mind,

I thought there ne'er was such another!

Poor little Charles and I!—that day

We sate within our silent room; But we could neither read or play

The very walls seemed full of gloom.

I wish my mother had not died,

We never have been glad since then; They say, and is it true, she cried,

That she should never come again ?"

The father checked his tears, and thus

He spake,“ My child, they do not err; You say she cannot come to us;

But you and I may go to her.”

1 THE WORKHOUSE GIRL. MY DEAR YOUNG FRIENDS,

I wish to tell you about the happy death of a poor workhouse girl ; but before I do so, let me say to those of you who read this little book, and have not given your hearts to God, reflect that every year, month, day,-aye, every moment that passes, brings you nearer to an eternal world; and although you are young in years, you are not too young to die. The young, as well as the aged, have many solemn warnings to prepare for death. One friend and companion after another is snatched away, and you know not how long you have to live! Do not think you will put off religion until you are more advanced in years: you know not that you will live to see those years. You have not a moment to call your own.

“The rising morning can't assure

That you will end the day;
For Death stands ready at the door,

To take your lives away." Give your hearts to God now, in youth. Has not Christ said, “I love them that love me, and they who seek me early shall find me?" O be encouraged by this, and many other promises which you may find in his Word, that he will not cast you off, but will love you freely. Has not God so loved you as to give his only begotten Son to die for you; and can you refuse to devote your best days—the time when you are free from care and anxiety—to him who died for your sins?

I once visited a poor girl about fifteen years of age, who was taken into the Union-house at

Her parents were dead; she had no relations near her; and when ill, was obliged to be taken care of there. When I conversed with her, I found her in a very thankful frame of mind. She blessed God for providing such a bed as the one she was lying on for her, and said she never thought she could feel so happy in such a place.

“God is with me," said she, “ he will not lay upon me more than I am able to bear; he hath promised never to leave or forsake those who put their trust in him. I have trusted in him, and will unto the end. Through the precious blood of Christ I hope for pardon for

my sins.” She requested me to read and pray with her, saying she was sure her friends would also be very pleased if I would, (meaning ten or twelve persons who were lying ill in the same ward with herself.) I complied with her request, and when I rose from my knees she said, “Thank you; I shall never hear your voice again on earth, but I hope to spend a never-ending eternity with you in heaven.” When I called a day or two after, the nurse informed me she was gone, and believed she died rejoicing in the Saviour. The last words she uttered were, “It will soon be over, nurse; I shall soon be with Jesus.”

IS GOD MY FRIEND?

Would you not, my dear readers, like to die rejoicing in the Saviour? You may. If you serve and love him in health, he will be with you in sickness, and support you in death. Give your hearts to God; then, like this poor girl, you will be happy under all circumstances, for he will support you. Lincolnshire.

E.

IS GOD MY FRIEND? “MOTHER, who made the vine that creeps

Beside the mossy wall?" “Twas God, my child, who never sleeps;

Whose watch is over all,
“ He made the bright and beauteous flowers,

And everything we see;
He blesses all thy infant hours,

And is a Friend to thee."
“ My Friend ! and then is God my Friend?

The God who lives above?" “Yes-God will kindly condescend

To bless thee with his love.
“ Then go to him my child, to-day,

He will thy Father be ;
And when He takes thy soul away,

Thou wilt his glory see.”
“I will go mother, I'll resign

All earthly good for Heaven; How sweet to call the Saviour mineTo know my sins forgiven!"

« PreviousContinue »