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near. And though I have, by his grace, loved Him in my youth, and feared Him in mine age, and laboured to have a conscience void of offence towards Him, and towards all men; yet, if thou, Lord, shouldest be extreme to mark what I have done amiss, who can abide it? And therefore, where I have failed, Lord, show mercy to me; for I plead not my righteousness, but the forgiveness of my unrighteousness, through His merits who died to purchase pardon for penitent sinners. And since I owe thee a death, Lord, let it not be terrible, and then take thine own time; I submit to it. Let not mine, O Lord, but thy will be done.—God hath heard my daily petitions; for I am at peace with all men, and He is at peace with me. From such blessed assurance, I feel that inward joy which this world can never give, nor take from me. My conscience beareth me this witness; and this witness makes the thoughts of death joyful. I could wish to live, to do the Church more service; but cannot hope it, for my days are past, as a shadow that returns not.”.

.. (Sent by F. C.)

DEATH-BED OF GELLERT. On his death-bed, Gellert, professor at Leipsic, (whose death was universally lamented in all Germany, for his wisdom and piety,) thus speaks :-“I find it difficult to follow what is addressed to me ;-only repeat to me the name of Jesus; whenever I pronounce it, or hear it pronounced, I feel myself animated with new strength and fresh joy.” At length, he felt the final approaches of death, and wished to know of his friends how much longer he might have to struggle with it. On being answered, “ Perhaps an hour;"_" God be praised," said he, with looks of joy, and raising his hands, “ only one hour!" Then, with a still more serene countenance, he turned on his side, prayed to God in silence, and, in the midst of this prayer, and those of all present, who surrounded his bed, he slept the sleep of death on the 13th of December, 1747, at midnight.

(Sent by F. C.)

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The Cottage in which Crabbe, the Poet, was born.

CRABBE, THE POET. The print, which we here give, is the cottage in which the Rev. George Crabbe was born. It was at Aldborough, in Suffolk, on the sea coast, but is now pulled down. Mr. Crabbe died about two years and a half ago. Though born in humble life, being the son of a fisherman at Aldborough, he was, before his death, raised to a condition in which he became the companion and friend of persons in the first stations of society. In the early part of his life, he showed great fondness for poetry, and himself wrote some excellent pieces. For many years, he published no more poetry; but, at a later period of his life, he published his principal poems, the" Borough,” “ Almshouse,” &c. We do not attempt to lay before our readers any thing like a life of Crabbe. His poems show a great knowledge of the manners and feelings of men, especially of those in humble life. As a clergyman, Mr. Crabbe showed great anxiety for the good of his parishioners. He died at Trowbridge, in Wiltshire. The shutters of the shops in the town were half-closed as soon as his death was known. On the day of his funeral, ninety-two of the principal inhabitants, including all the dissenting ministers, assembling of their own accord in the school-room, followed him to the grave. The shops, on this day, were again closed; the streets crowded; the three galleries and the organloft were hung with black cloth, as well as the pulpit and the chancel. The choir was in mourning, the other inhabitants of the town were in their seats and in mourning, the church was full,--the effect appalling.-Life of the Rev. George Crabbe, by his Son.

A monument with the following inscription was raised by subscription.

Sacred to the Memory


Who died February the 3d, 1832,
In the seventy-eighth year of his age, and the
Nineteenth of his service as Rector

of this Parish.





Born in humble life, he made himself what he was.

By the force of his Genius,
He broke through the obscurity of his birth;
Yet never ceased to feel for the

Less fortunate :
Entering (as his works can testify) into

The sorrows and deprivations

Of the poorest of his parishioners;
And so discharging the duties of his station as a

Minister and a Magistrate,
As to acquire the respect and esteem

Of all his neighbours.-
As a writer, he is well described by a great

Contemporary as
“ Nature's sternest painter yet her best."

THE TWO FRIENDS. The following letter was lately sent to the Vicar of Bolton, in Lancashire. It has been kindly forwarded to us; and we have great pleasure in laying it before our readers. We often hear the poor complaining that they want “ a friend" to help them. The following letter will show them where they may find" two;"—and we assure them that they are true friends, who will be always ready to help them, and will do a great deal more for them than those who are generally, in the world, called friends. Rev. Sir,

Bolton, July, 1834. The personal respect I feel towards you, both as a Christian minister and President of the Temperance Society, induces me to send you the following narrative, which, if you think any remarks founded on it may be of use at the Annual Temperance Meeting, it will give pleasure to my mind. It is now twenty-five years since I entered into the marriage state; unfortunately I was connected with a trade that could earn little wages. In consequence of which I had to encounter many difficulties. Within the first ten years after our marriage, we had seven children; during that time our family earnings would not amount to more than eighteen shillings per week; we have had, at one time, three children under two years of age, two of them being twins. Placed in these circumstances, what were we to do, for we never

once thought of applying for parish relief. Hope, Sir, and persevering industry kept our spirits up, and we looked forward to better days; but we were obliged to call to our assistance two friends : and, with these dear friends we have never parted company to the present day; the two friends I allude to, are “ Temperance and Frugality;" and these have never, in one single instance, deceived us: by keeping close company with them, we have increased our weekly earnings to thirty-five shillings per week, and our personal property to nearly two hundred pounds. Our weekly income has been increased by persevering industry; and our personal property by temperance and frugality.

Wishing you, dear Sir, peace and happiness, both in this world and that which is to come, I remain, reverend Sir, your most obedient servant,



MR. EDITOR, It might be serviceable to many of your readers, if you would be pleased to tender them a few words of advice upon two subjects relating to sickness. In the first place, numbers stand in need of being reminded that it is their duty, when ill, to send for their Minister, as stated in the Directions prefixed to the Order for the Visitation of the Sick. In the smallest parishes, a Clergyman cannot always hear of his neighbour's illness, although some are so unreasonable as to take for granted that he has been informed ;-and, at any rate, it must be much pleasanter to his feelings, to find that his services are valued, and his attendance requested, than to go uninvited into their presence. During many a pastoral visit, it is with regret he discovers that a person has just recovered from a serious disorder and returned to his work without the benefit of spiritual advice, that the opportunity of instilling the truths of the Gospel into a mind softened by affliction, and during an interval of rest from worldly occupations, has been lost. Still more distressing must

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