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taken the honey, and spared the labouring bee. But I have destroyed man, and his habitation, the hive and the honey-the fleece and the flock. I have defaced the image of God, and crushed out that breath which I never can restore. You know not how bitter is the warfare of my soul with the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that ruleth in the children of disobedience."

As his last hour approached, he laid his cold hand on the head of his brother's eldest child, who had been named after him, and said faintly, "little James, obey your parents, and never be a soldier. Sister, brother, you have been angels of mercy to me. The blessing of God be upon you and your household." The venerable minister who had instructed his childhood, and laid his parents in the grave, had daily visited him in his sickness, and stood by his side, as he went down into the valley of the shadow of death.

There

แ "My son, look unto the Lamb of God. is a fulness in Him, for the chief of sinners." The aged man then lifted up his fervent prayer for the departing soul. He commended it to the boundless compassions of Him who receiveth the penitent, and besought for it, a gentle passage to that world, where there is no more sin, neither sorrow nor crying. He ceased. The eyes of the dying man were closed. There was no more heaving of the breast or gasping.

It seemed as if the breath had quitted the suffering clay. Yet again, there was a feeble sigh. Bending closely over him, his brother caught the faint sounds, "Saviour of sinners," and, "Land of peace."

"The hours that lately siniled, where are they now?"
THANKFUL, Great God, I am to thee,
For all the gifts bestowed on me,
For many years now flown;
And here before thee I appear,
To bless thee for thy tender care-
The Year now nearly gone.

Throughout its hours, by night and day,
In dreary months, and lovely May,
And Autumn's fruitful dawn-
At home, abroad-at work, at play,
Thou hast with blessings crown'd my way,
The Year now nearly gone.

My life, so fruitless to thy praise,
So erring from thy happy ways,

Thou still hast lengthened on:
Nor have I for my parents dear,
Been call'd to shed the funeral tear,
The Year now nearly gone.

Accept my thanks great God above,
For all these tokens of thy love,
To me, a sinful one;
Thou who hast help'd me hitherto,
Still guide, protect, and help me through,
The Year now nearly gone.

For all my failings, guilt, and pride-
For sinful acts, and thoughts, beside,
May Jesus' blood atone;
Remember not the many sins-
Which darken o'er-which so bedim
The Year now nearly gone.

Prepare me for thy gracious will,
That I thy pleasure may fulfil-

What time I'm spar'd below;
And when my soul is call'd away,
O take me to those realms of day,
Where joys Eternal grow.

Newport.

A. M.

[graphic]

THE

CHILDREN'S MAGAZINE,

AND

MISSIONARY REPOSITORY.

EDITED BY J. F. WINKS.

VOLUME X.-1847.

LONDON:

SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, AND Co.

LEICESTER:

PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY J. F. WINKS.

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