to talk about them in such a way, as that the purposes we have mentioned may be promoted; and also that our esteemed readers may be prepared, if they think proper, to proceed further in the same direction, by the study of those larger works which they may then have the opportunity of procuring.

POETRY.

REFLECTIONS ON NEW-YEAR'S DAY.
(From "The Christian's Magazine,” 1767.)
My soul, attend the solemn call:
Thy crazy cottage soon will fall,
And thou must take thy flight
Above yon wide-extended blue,
To love and sing, as angels do,
Or sink in endless night.

Lord, at thy footstool I would bow,
And humbly beg assistance now

To know my real state:

While life, and health, and time endure,
Fain would I make my heaven secure,
Before it be too late.

If in destruction's road I stray,
Help me to choose that better way
That leads to joys on high;

My soul renew, my sins forgive,
Nor let me ever dare to live

Such as I dare not die.

But if thy grace has changed my heart,
Thy beams of comfort, Lord, impart,
To gild my future days:
Go on to bless; and let me see
How great my obligations be

To speak and live thy praise.

With Thee let every day be past;
And when arrives the awful last,
May glory dawn within;

Clear faith and hope from every doubt,
And ere life's glimmering lamp go out,
Let endless joys begin.

[WE have been favoured by two esteemed correspondents with two articles which, we think, may usefully be published at the same time. We prefix to the first the single-worded, but impressive, title which the writer himself gives to it. Names, places, and dates we omit, as well as the name of the sender, for an obvious reason; but our readers may be assured that it is no fancy sketch. They will see that had fancy been at work, there would have been more colouring; more enlargement: but simplicity and solemn brevity serve best for the introduction of truth. The second piece will serve instead of our Missionary article for the month.]

A CONTRAST.

DIED, at A., in the month of -, B., daughter of C. For many years previously she had earnestly endeavoured humbly to walk with God, and diligently to serve him, though placed in circumstances which illustrated the saying of holy Scripture, "If any man will live godly in Christ Jesus, he shall suffer persecution." Her love of prayer was great; her attendance on the means of grace regular, frequent, and devout. When death approached, he came attended by no terrors. She

C

was cheered by the good hope through grace, and the conviction it brought that to die would be gain. A few minutes before she died, she was conversing with two or three Christian friends who had visited her. She spoke to them, with joyful serenity, of those things of God with which she was soon to become acquainted by personal experience. Almost while thus conversing on heavenly subjects she fell asleep in Christ, and through him, her adorable Redeemer, her spirit sweetly passed from earth to be with him in paradise.

Only a few hours afterwards, her own sister, by the same insidiously-wasting disease, consumption, likewise departed this life. But how different her end! In health she had smiled at what she thought the weakmindedness of her sister, and even ridiculed her attachment to religion. In affliction, not having the mental comfort which assuages even bodily suffering, she was impatient, fretful, uncomfortable. A shadow was on

her spirit; and at length she expired, somewhat unexpectedly, without affording any evidence of an inward change. We judge her not. It is not for us to judge. But her last moments were those of irritability and cheerlessness.

Reader, How wish you to die? Fretfully, gloomily? With a knit brow, and an anxious countenance? Or with that sacred tranquillity of spirit which fixes a placid smile even on the features of death itself? You have no hesitation. Thus, thus, like the believer, you would die. And is it weakness to prepare for this? Folly, to secure it? Ah! no. Proud as is the sinner, let it be remembered that sin is weakness, sin is folly. You would die well. Who would not? But let all remember, old as well as young, that they must live the life, who wish to die the death, of the righteous.

JANET, THE LITTLE NEGRO GIRL.

(Communicated by the Rev. John Hornby, Clitheroe, lately Missionary in Jamaica.)

WHEN I was in Jamaica some years ago, at a small

village on the north side of the island, I occupied some of my leisure hours in teaching a number of the children of the poor to read the word of God. One of my first

scholars was a little Negro girl, called Janet, of whom I remember some good things which may be interesting to the readers of this Magazine. Janet was always very attentive when I spoke to the children about their souls, and the necessity of seeking the Lord early; and on such occasions I have seen the tears rolling down her little black face. She soon learned to read, and received one of the New Testaments sent out by the British and Foreign Bible Society, to be presented to poor Negroes who could read. Also, for her regular attendance, and good behaviour, little reward-books, supplied by the Tract Society, and other good people in England, were given to her. Janet made a good use of the books she thus received. Her parents, who were honest and industrious people, having been slaves, had never learned to read; but Janet read to them her little books, and her Testament, in the evening when their work was over; and thus they were assisted by their little more than infant child in gaining a better acquaintance with the word of God. The parents were steady members of the Wesleyan society; and Janet came with them to the chapel. I remember one evening making an appeal to the congregation on behalf of the cannibal Feejees; and, among the rest, this little girl came forward with a small piece of silver, which she gladly gave. Soon after this she was taken sick, and her sickness was unto death. When she was very ill, she said, "I am going to be with Jesus ;" and in this frame of mind she continued until she died. I have no doubt but that divine grace had made little Janet meet for a heavenly inheritance, and that she will be among the fruit of Missionary toil gathered from this interesting field. I read the funeral service over Janet's grave, surrounded by an interesting group of little black faces; and never committed any one to the earth, in sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection, with happier confidence.

20

UNCLE SAM.

Children. UNCLE SAM, we want you to talk to us to-night, and tell us something.

Uncle. Well, my children, and what is it to be about? C. Why, first of all, uncle, you must take us into your other room. It is getting quite dark; and then, it is so cold here, father says the weather has changed, and winter is now coming on in good earnest. If we stop where we are, we shall soon be too cold to listen to you.

U. Too dark and cold? Why not go to bed, then? The fowls are all gone to roost, and the little birds, that are so busy all the day.

C. What, all of us, uncle? you, and father and mother, and all?

U. Why not?

C. O! but what a great deal of time would be lost! We often get our lessons for the next day before we go to bed; and mother does ever so much work; and father, too, as well as read sometimes.

U. What, in the cold and dark?

C. No, to be sure, uncle: you know that very well. We have a good fire, and we sit at the table, and we have a good light too; and so we get our lessons, and mother works.

U. Come in to the other room, however. Let us have fire and candles; and then, I think, we shall find something to talk about.

[They go into another room.]

U. Now, my children, we seem to be
able. And what has made the difference?
C. The fire and the candles, uncle.
U. And what have they done for us?

very comfort

C. The fire warms us, and the candles give us light. U. Well; here are two things to talk about. Let us take one at a time. Suppose we take the fire first. What good do you say the fire has done us?

C. O! it gives us warmth.

U. And why do you want warmth?