to her, "Don't cry, I am going to heaven;" and added, “If I should die before my father comes home, ask him to desire Mr. Cavalier to preach my funeral sermon." He afterwards enquired if there were poor people in Haberdasher's Alms-houses. Being told yes, he said, "Do you think they have the Gos pel preached to them?" He was answered, Yes, they have; Mr. Wilkinson, whom you have heard, preaches to them twice every Sabbath. He said, “Oh! I am glad of that."

On my return home I evidently perceived that death was fast approaching, but did not conceive it so near as it proved to be. Being myself much fatigued for want of my usual rest, and likewise very poorly, I went to bed about eleven o'clock, leaving him in the care of the housekeeper, whom he afterwards desired to lie down by him. She did so; and in the night he got up upon his knees, turned to her, kissed her on the cheek, and, without speaking, lay down again; but continued extremely restless. At three o'clock I got up again, went into the room wherein he lay, and instantly saw that his end was very near. I asked him if I should pray by him. He said, “Yes, father." I kneeled down close by his side, and all the while I was engaged in prayer, he held me by the hand. When I had done he thanked me, and then he said to me, “I shall either die or live," meaning (as I suppose) some change would soon take place. I said to him, My love, which would you prefer, to live or die? His answer was, “The will of the Lord be done." He lay still some time, then asked me to give Ann all his money. I replied, Do you wish her to have your money? He said, "Yes, father." I then assured him she certainly should.

When

When she came into the room again, he looked at her, and said, " Ann my money is your's" and added, " Ann will have the disposal of my play-things."

A friend who had been with us all the week, coming to his bed-side at seven o'clock, asked him, how he did; he answered, "I am dying;" and then deliberately untied his night cap. On its being attempted to be tied again, he said, "It is of no use." He then pulled it gently off, and laid it on one side, saying, "I don't want it, I am dying."

He continned some time very restless, turning from side to side-throwing his arms about-sometimes clasping his hands and holding them up, as if in the act of prayer; and although he struggled hard for breath, he appeared very patient, and was perfectly sensible-knew every friend who came into the room to see him in his last moments. He desired the housekeeper to give him some milk and water to drink, the only nourishment he had taken since Tuesday, and of which he drank very often and freely. He did so now, for which purpose he raised himself partly upon his knees, holding by her while he took it. After a few seconds, he sunk down again upon his pillow, and precisely at ten o'clock, the same hour when he first complained on the preeeding Saturday, gently and peacefully breathed his last without a single sigh or groan.

He was interred the following Wednesday, in the family grave, Bunhill-fields. Mr. Cavalier addressed the spectators, and on the following Sabbath preached upon the occasion at Kingsland Chapel, from Acts xxi. 14. The will of the Lord be done'-to a very rouded audience.

POETRY.

Poetry.

THE GHOST.

(From Holloway's Peasant's Fate.)

"OFT has my Grandam beg'd me to refrain From boyish pranks which gave another pain; For still her heart to sympathy inclin'd, Benevolently felt for all mankind;

And oft affectingly would she recite

The tale of Simon and the fiery sprite.

" "Twas in her prime when simpler manners reign'd, And at their board plain farmers entertain'd

The village Taylor oft, whose stated care
The rustic wardrobe kept in due repair.
The dext'rous Simon, late one Christmas eve,
Receiv'd his groat, and took respectful leave,
With ale replenished, and with bosom warm,
The Plowman's lantern dangling on his arm:
Tho' moon nor stars dispens'd one cheering ray,
He whistling homeward, urg'd his ready way.
The barn, the cow-house, and the bridge he past,
And reach'd the solitary lane at last,
Beneath whose mould'ring banks at even-tide,
'Twas said, a restless ghost was wont to glide:
Where oaks, o'er arching, form a deeper shade,
And rising breezes rustle through the glade;
Midst the quick hedge a ghastly form he spies,
With bald, transparent head, and hollow eyes,
The mouth, from ear to ear extended wide,
With long black teeth abundantly supplied.
A rushing horror curdled all his blood;
Fast beat his heart, his hair erected stood;

His knees, that now together 'gan to smite,
Could scarce assist him in his backward flight;
His lantern meets an interposing post,

In stench and smoke the welcome light is lost;
While clanking chains to aggravate his fears,
Pour their dread discord on his startled ears;
His implements of trade where'er he trod,

Goose, shears, and bodkin, strew'd the darksome road:
One short ejaculation 'scap'd his tongue,

And prone on earth he stretch'd his length along.
The wags, alarm'd, burst from their sly retreat,
And rais'd their trembling victim on his feet;
To calm his fears the hollow turnip bore,

And shew'd the chains that on their arms they wore,
In vain!-At home arriv'd, he sought his bed,
Where many a painful, feverish month he led,
And still, whene'er this fatal day return'd,
The same sensations in his bosom burn'd."

A HYMN

Sung at Tottenham-Court Chapel, after a Sermon preached for the benefit of a Seminary at Hackney, for the Education of pious young Men, designed to propagate the Gospel by Itinerant labours.

OF all the sounds that sooth the mind

The gospel is the best;

There God who is supremely kind,

Makes us supremely blest.

There Christ his bleeding love reveals,

Our pardon to procure;

And God the holy spirit seals,

And makes our pardon sure.

"Tis there the Lord's all conqu❜ring grace

Its energy makes known,

Saves us from sin's destructive ways,

And wins us for his own.

There mercy from a boundless main
Directs a constant tide,

And bids us drink and drink again,
Till we are satisfied.

Then let us in this gospel boast,
And strive to spread the sound,
To the wide earth's remotest coast,

Where sons of men are found.

R.R.

THE SABBATH AND THE HOUSE OF GOD.

WHILST in the brighter world above,

Where all is joy for evermore,
Those glorious ranks, the God of love
With ceaseless reverence adore.

This heav'nly King, so good, so kind,
To us on earth a day hath given,
That we, with elevated mind,

May share the blissful work of heaven.

Blest day! Nor less belov'd the place,
Where those that fear Jehovah meet,

Grateful to offer up their praise,
And humbly worship at his feet!

My happy lot, Oh may it be,
T'enjoy thy sabbaths all my days:

And in thy temple, Lord, to see
Thy beauty-and to sing thy praise!

And