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aside their character, uttering only the voice of sorrowful entreaty."

“ She called them a goodly passing knell,” said Ross : “and seeing that I both understood and felt her meaning, she added, “ All, all is peace: full pardon, full salvation, joy unspeakable, and full of glory.” “ But the flag," said Magrath.

Aye,” rejoined M'Alister, we waved our flag, the signal of distress, and reeled beneath its weight. She gazed upon its crimson folds, and, in a tone of holy triumph ejaculated, “Jebovab-pissi ! In thy name, O Lord, we first set our banners : for thy name's sake, put to thy hand, hear, behold, and save.' It was then that Browning's vessel ran aground, and every shout from the enemy, every cry from the walls, seemed to infuse new energy into her prayers. Life was ebbing fast away;


her my support, and strove to join her fervent supplications ; for never did so fearful a darkness overspread my soul, as during that season of suspense.”

It was not yourself only, Mr. Bryan,” said Magrath. “Every man's face was changed, and blackened as if by a spell. Such looks were never seen among living men, as we beheld this day.”

“ And did she rally again ?” asked Murray, whose interest appeared intense.

“ Yes : when the ship gave that successful broadside, she raised her head in earnest expectation; and then the shout, the clamorous joy, that told its result, came pealing on our ears; our comrades on the battery exclaimed, she Aoats! she floats !' and I raised my dying charge, and bore her to the point from whenee she might descry the stately vessels bearing down in unimpeded approach. She uttered a sound of joy, and spreading abroad her hands, exclaimed, Lord, I have lived to pray-I come to praise thee!”

She sunk back, breathed the name of Jesus, and departed to abide with him for ever.”

A Prayer for every day, and all Day




In the morning hear my voice,
Let me in thy light rejoice;
God, my sun ! my strength renew,
Send thy blessing down like dew.

Through the duties of the day,
Grant me grace to watch and pray,
Live as always seeing Thee,
Knowing “ Thou, God, seest me."


When the evening sky displays,
Richer pomp than noon arrays,
Be the shades of death to me
Bright with immortality.

When the round of care is run,
And the stars succeed the sun,
Songs of praise with prayer unite,
Crown the day and hail the night.

Thus with Thee, my God, my friend,
Time begin, continue, end ;
While its joys and sorrows pass,
Like the flowers of the grass.


The Blind Mother,

GENTLY, dear mother, here
The bridge is broken near thee, and below
The waters with a rapid current flow,-

Gently, and do not fear.
Lean on me, mother ; plant thy staff before thee,
For she who loves thee most is watching o'er thee.

The green leaves, as we pass, Lay their light finger on thee unaware, And by thy side the hazels cluster fair,

And the low forest grass Grows green and lovely where the woodpaths wind, Alas, for thee, dear mother, thou art blind!

And nature is all bright;
And the faint grey and crimson of the dawn,
Like folded curtains from the day are drawn ;

And evening's dewy light
Quivers in tremulous softness on the sky,
Alas, dear mother, for thy clouded eye!

The moon's new silver shell
Trembles above thee, and the stars float up
In the blue air, and the rich tulip's cup

Is pencill'd passing well.
And the swift birds on brilliant pinions flee,-
Alas, dear mother, that thou canst not see!

And the kind looks of friends
Peruse the sad expressions in thy face,
And the child stops amid his bounding race,

And the tall stripling bends
Low to thine ear, with duty unforgot-
Alas, dear mother, that thou seest them not!

But thou canst hear and love May richly in a human tone be pour'd, And the slight cadence of a whisper'd word

A daughter's love may prove; And while I speak thou knowest if I smile, Albeit thou dost not see my face the while.

Yes thou canst hear! and He
Who on thy sightless eye its darkness hung,
To the attentive ear, like harps, hath strung

Heaven, and earth, and sea !
And 'tis a lesson in our hearts to know,
With but one sense the soul



Wow pleasant is the opening Year!

How pleasant is the opening year!

The clouds of winter melt away ;
The flowers in beauty re-appear ;

The songster carols from the spray ;
Lengthens the more refulgent day ;

And bluer grows the arched sky;
All things around us seem to say,

“ Christian ! direct thy thoughts on higla."

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