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John prayed; but when it came to his mother's turn, she said that she could not pray: but John urged, begged his mother to pray. He had experienced the forgiving mercy of God in his own soul, and had a blooming hope of immortality, and felt an ardent desire to meet his dear parents in heaven, that, at the last day, they might be able to say—“Here we are, Lord, and the children Thou hast given us ;” and that they might hear the Lord say to them " Well done, good and faithful servants : enter ye into the joy of your Lord.” He sung and prayed all night; and, at one time, he seemed as if he beheld some happy spirits hovering over his bed; and recognising among them his little brother, who died a few years ago, he exclaimed, “ Yonder they are, father! and Robert is among them!”

He remained in this happy state of mind, though suffering greatly in body, until the day of his death.

About 12 o'clock on Saturday, the 31st of May, 1851, his happy spirit took its flight, and, no doubt, was conveyed by angels to heaven.


RETURNING GOOD FOR EVIL. THE horse of a good man strayed into the road; an illnatured neighbour took the horse to the pound, and afterwards met the owner of the horse, and told him that he had taken the horse to the pound; and added, “If I again catch the horse in the road, I will do it again !” The good man replied, “Neighbour, not long since I looked out of my window, in the night, and saw your cattle in my meadow, and I drove them out, and shut them in your yard; and if I again find them there, I will do it again !” This reply made the ill-natured man ashamed of what he had done ; and he, therefore, went and liberated the horse from the pound, by paying the expenses. "A soft answer turneth away wrath.”


Heir of greatness, and of glory,-
Life and immortality;
Favour'd one of God's creation,
Rob’d with grace and dignity.
Plac'd in Eden's sunny garden,
Ever beauteous, fair and bright;
Streams of gladness flow'd around him,
Lovely all, and all delight.
Wonder of adoring angels,
Spirit in a mould of clay, -
Godlike, spotless and eternal,
Glorious as the new-born day.
Pure, but ah! how soon polluted,
Stain'd with guilt, and crime, and sin;
Stripp'd of ev'ry Godlike feature,
Fiendlike all, and dark within.
“ From what height of bliss, how fallen,"
Sorrow's fountains gush with tears,
Hopes, once fair, and bright and cloudless,
Wreck'd in guilt, and sin and fears.
Total wreck, in gloom desponding,
Helpless, lost in mute despair ;
Doom'd to death and fiery vengeance,
None to pity, none to spare.
Lo! amid despair and darkness,
Beaming brightly, hope appears ;
Grace divine, from heaven descending,
Words of promise greet his ears.
Joyous hopes, soul animating,
Kindle in his troubled breast,
Peaceful thoughts of love and mercy,
Calm his guilty soul to rest.
Ages pass, yet God is faithful,
“ Worlds on worlds" shall pass away,
Sooner than bis promise faileth,
Though there seem a long delay.
Slaughter'd lambs, and smoking altars,
Shadow forth the promised one;
Priests and seers, and holy prophets,
View the Father's only Son.

Angels hail the world's Redeemer,
Songs divine proclaim his birth ;
Heaven and earth's great Lord and Master,
Dwells in mortal flesh on earth.
Lowly was his home and dwelling,
State and grandeur he despised ;
Earth's proud pompous titled minions,
Scorn'd his message, others priz'd.
Canting pharisaic doings,
(Shrouded as with darkest night)
He of saintly guise denuded,
He expos'd to clearest light.
Grace, and truth, and righteousness,
Deeds of mercy, works of love,
Heavenly precepts, pure and peaceful,
Stamp'd his mission from above.
Though he heard the poor of sickness,
Rais'd them from a dying bed, -
Cured the blind, the lame, the leper,
Re-infused with life the dead.
Those who ruled, in anger burning,
Basely his destruction sought;
Blind with unbelief and fury,
Set his counsel all at nought.
High and low, with zeal united,
Bore the suff'ring Saviour hence,
Plac'd at Pilate's mock tribunal,
Guileless, spotless innocence.
Scourg'd, insulted and derided, -
Charg'd with crimes of deepest stain,
Loaded with abuse and slander,
Grief, indignity, and pain.
Soon their rage attain'd its climax,
(Awful pitch of sin and guilt)
They crucified God's only Son,
Trampled on the blood they spilt.
Guilt, beyond all thought transcending,
How can words, or language tell,
Could Christ's murderers hope for pardon,
How could they escape from hell?
Yes, for them, God's grace abounded,
Offered pardon, bade them live,
Jesus for them supplicated
God, the Father, to forgive.


allowed to go into a ruinous state. The property was afterwards sold to Sir Hugh Dalrymple.

Near to Tantallon Castle stands the Bass Rock. This remarkable rock attracts the attention of travellers, soou after they have crossed the river Tweed at Berwick. The rock is about a mile in circumference, and four hundred feet high from the level of the sea. There is a passage right through the rock, into which the sea sometimes rushes with great violence, and thereby a loud roaring is produced. At low water on a calm day it is practicable to pass through this perforation of the rock. Formerly there existed a garrison, a hermitage, and some other habitations on this rock. Now its only inhabitants are flocks of Solan geese. Flocks of geese arrive at the rock in the latter end of February or the beginning of March. They generally leave the rock about October.

The geese lay their eggs, hatch, and bring up their young, on the precipitous sides of the rock. In order to take them a man is let down the side of the rock, by a rope fastened round his body; and when he reaches the place where the geese are, he with a stick knocks the geese on their heads, and they fall into the sea, and are picked up by men in boats. The feathers on their breast are beautifully white and soft.

In the summer there is sufficient herbage on the rock to feed a few sheep. On the approach of winter the sheep are taken off the rock.

In “The Footsteps of our Forefathers," a volume recently published, there are some interesting notices of Tantallon Castle and Bass Rock, to the following effect:

« Every tourist in Scotland is familiar with the wide estuary, called the Firth of Forth, which constitutes the ocean highway to Edinburgh and the heart of Scotland. The most cursory view of the shores must have made him acquainted with a steep, abrupt mountain, which rises up at its entrance, like some huge natural pyramid, and which bears the name of Berwick-law-because offenders were anciently executed upon its summit. About three miles to the east stand the towers of the ancient castle of

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