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I saw to-day the sun arise;

I saw the tempest change the skies; '
I mark'd, with joy, the dawning light,
But mark'd the storm with more delight.
SALLU.

O, who can see, o'er dewy earth,
The sun walk like a bridegroom forth,
Heaven's starry hosts retiring all,
Whilst he enkindles up their hall;
His march of light, his wheels of fire-
Who may behold, and not admire!
ZAIR.

O, who can see, o'er land and flood, The tempest waft his charged cloud, His gloomy skirts with whirlwind riven, His arrows rending earth and heaven, His rain, his hail, his sheets of fireWho may behold, and not admire ! SALLU.

My joy is noon, when fields and hills, And mountains with their thousand rills, Lie sleeping in the sun-shine bright, As in a golden flood of light: Glory then seems, as with a robe, T'enwrap the mountain-studded globe.

ZAIR.

My joy is night, when darkness fills Heaven's star-hung vault, and hides the hills; Man's labours then all disappear,

But God's great works shine out more clear;
One sun but flaunts, by day, with light,
Ten thousand meekly shine by night.
SALLU.

I joy to see from Carmel's head,
The ocean in her calmness spread;
Her depths, that like a mirror lie,
Giving the bright sun back his sky;
Her waves, that twinkle o'er the strand,
With foam-streaks silvering all the sand.
ZAIR.

I joy to see from Carmel's steep,
Enchaf'd to energy the deep;
Her surges rolling up the shore
Immense their foamy volumes hoar;
Her mass of mighty waters far,
High-heaved, with every wind at war.
SALLU.

My joy is Kishon's stream; what day
She, in her purest, gentlest, play,
Steals to the sea; and each sweet wave,
As loth her rich-clad banks to leave,
Kisses th' o'erhanging lilies fair,
That love to dip and flourish there.
ZAIR.

When Tabor's winter-torrents, fed
By rains that beat the mountain's head,
Send Kishon's stream resounding down,
O'erflooding vineyard, field, and town;
Her rage, her lifted voice, her might,
Though dire, are then my soul's delight.
SALLU.

When over Gilead's hills afar,
Comes, like a bride, the morning star,
And from her silver-fringed lap,

Flings beams that God's glad world inwrap;
Yet heralding a greater light,
That star of morn is my delight.

ZAIR.

When over Shur's dry land afar, Lours, red and long, the hairy star, And, in his car of terror, scuds To hide him in the western floods; I see, with joy, our God on highThat guides that giant through the sky,

SALLU.

Sweet is to me the day of spring,
When the crane soars, and turtles sing;
When the clouds melt in heaven serene,
And mountains glitter in their green,
And rills through rows of roses glide,
And valleys ring from side to side.
ZAIR.

Yet winter's day to me has mirth,
When cold's fierce power is o'er the earth;
When blasts blow loud from Hermon's hill,
And snows the ways and sheep-cotes fill,
And shepherds shivering, home retire,
To sit and sing by cottage fire.

SALLU.

Mount Zion's heights are green and fair; Glorious th' Almighty's temple there; His courts with holy beauty gleam, That shines from mid the cherubim ; Mercy and love there wave the wing; His people clap their hands and sing.

ZAIR.

Sublime was Sinai's top, when God,
In thunder sent his law abroad;
Black, round the hill, the vapours hung;
Fierce, as from furnace, flames were flung;
The trumpet blew; th' Almighty spoke;
And Sinai quaked mid fire and smoke.
SALLU.

O thou my barp! thy God confess;
Him, in his goodness, laud and bless;
'Twas he that built these heavens immense,
The palace of his residence;

And gave to man this earth, that he
A glimpse of his vast love might see.
ZAIR.

O thou, my harp! thy God confess;
Extol him in his mightiness:

These heavens, this earth, shall at his voice Burst their great chain with fearful noise; And man shall meet new heavens, new earth, Born to a new and better birth.

SALLU.

Be hush'd, my harp! for now behold,
The sun's unconquer'd shafts of gold
Have pierced the thunder-freighted cloud
Heavy that hung o'er field and flood;
Hill, hamlet, city, gleam again,
Sparkling with gems of sunny rain.
ZAIR.

Be hush'd, my harp! the thunder's car
Has pass'd to Hermon's hills afar;
Be hush'd, for hark, the turtle's voice
Rings loud, and bids the woods rejoice;
Earth's beauty, burnish'd by the rain,
Invites us to our flocks again.

Thus sung they, on their seats of stone,
Alternate, to the harp's sweet tone:
They rose ;-for gone was now the rain:
Heaven, earth, and sea, were bright again;
The rainbow's spangled arms were seen
Enclasping Tabor's summits green;
Flocks shook the rain-drops from the fleece,
Refresh'd, and brows'd again in peace;
The stork cry'd joy down from his tree;
The turtle coo'd in harmony;

The swallow, skimming Carmel's height,
Twitter'd forth gladness in his flight:
There seem'd a peal of joy to rise
From earth, to re-salute the skies.

The shepherds rose :-their way they took,
Forth from that grotto in the rock,
To tend their bleating ones again,

On Carmel's flowery slope and plain,

Yet gemm'd and sparkling with the rain,

MISCELLANEOUS.

"

He earnestly prayed that the ating to their everlasting peace, and that the family might tention of all might be awakened to the things belongnever again meet in the morning, or separate at night, without prayer.

Who can tell what may befall us before morning? No, sir, I dare not stay." The landlord still remonstrated, A Christian Hero.-When in the year 1665, London was desolated with the plague, when all who had agreeable a gentleman, at last said, he should have no and expressing great regret that he should offend so the means of abandoning its contaminated walls had objection to "call his family together," but he should retired into the country, and when the living who could not know what to do when they came. Mr R. then not remove, were deprived of the ordinances, and the proposed to conduct family worship, to which all dying of the consolations, of religion, Mr Thomas Vin- readily consented. The family was immediately ascent, a minister of Christ, declared to his brethren a sembled, and then Mr R. called for a Bible; but no resolution to which he had been brought, and upon which he was determined to act, which justly entitles abled to supply the deficiency, as he always carried a such book could be produced. However, he was enhim to the appellation of a Christian hero. With a small Bible or Testament in his pocket. He read a noble magnanimity he declared, that it was absolutely small portion of Scripture, and then prayed with much necessary, that such vast numbers of dying people should fervour and solemnity, especially acknowledging the have some spiritual assistance; that he could have no equal prospect of usefulness in the exercise of his mi-struck dead by the storm, and imploring protection preserving goodness of God, that none present had been nistry to whatever period his life might be protracted; through the night. that he had carefully examined the state of his own soul, and could look death in the face without dismay; and that he solemnly devoted himself on this affecting and awful occasion to the cause of God and of souls. With sublime self-devotion, he entered the contaminated city; every Lord's day through the whole visitation he preached in some parish church: to all that sent for him, in whatever state of the disorder they might be, he repaired, and presented them with the Word of truth; the most extensive and beneficial effects were produced by his ministry; and multitudes passed into eternity blessing God for the instructions which he afforded. And he was signally protected by the providence of God, he was not abandoned by his great Master. That promise was fulfilled to him, Thou shalt not be afraid for the pestilence that walketh in darkness, nor the destruction that wasteth at noon day. A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand, but it shall not come nigh thee." Though nearly seventy thousand persons died in that year of the plague, and seven persons were numbered among its victims in the house where he lived, yet he continued in perfect health all the time, and lived to see the cessation of the dreadful ravages of the disease.

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When he rose from his knees, almost every individual present was bathed in tears, and the inquiry was awakened in several hearts-"Sir, what must I do to be saved?" Much interesting and profitable conversation ensued. again conducted family worship, and obtained from the The following morning, Mr R. should not in future be omitted. landlord a promise, that however feebly performed, it This day was inall of them, became decided and devoted followers of deed the beginning of days to that family; most, if not the Lord Jesus Christ, and were the means of diffusing a knowledge of the Gospel in a neighbourhood which had before been proverbially dark and destitute. "A morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not word spoken in season, how good is it!" "In the thine hand: for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good."

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Mr Kilpin.-The father of the late Rev. S. Kilpin of Exeter, was an ironinonger, and kept a general retail A nobleman in the neighbourhood shop in that line. ing, the steward came to the house, and said, with an was among his best customers. One Lord's day mornsneer, "Are you afraid of the devil, Mr Kilpin?" "No," replied the good man, "I am not." "Will you then sell me some articles to-day?" No, I will not; it is the Sabbath day, and the God of the Sabbath I love and fear. To-morrow I shall feel much obliged by executing his lordship's orders." "Very well, if you will not serve me to-day, you shall not to-morrow, or on any other day." The steward forgotten by the young family group; and it is pleasing then retired in a violent rage. This scene was never to be able to add, that the nobleman increased his favours when told of the circumstance.

Volume I., containing Forty-Four Numbers, with Title and Index, &c., Elegantly Bound in Embossed Cloth, is now ready

Consistency in Duty has the best Effects.-The following is one of the most interesting circumstances in the life of the late very eccentric and very excellent John Ryland, Baptist minister at Northampton. Being on a journey, he was overtaken by a violent storm, and compelled to take shelter in the first inn he came to. The people of the house treated him with great kindness and hospitality. They would fain have shown him into a parlour, but being very wet and cold, he begged permission rather to take a seat by the fire-side with the family. The good old man was friendly, cheerful, and well stored with entertaining anecdotes, and the family did their utmost to make him comfortable: they all supped together, and both the residents and the guest seemed mutually pleased with each other. At length, when the house was cleared, and the hour of rest approached, the stranger appeared uneasy, and looked up every time a door opened, as if expecting something Price Seven Shillings. essential to his comfort. His host informed him that his chamber was prepared whenever he chose to retire. "But," said he, "you have not had your family together." "Had my family together! for what purpose? I don't know what you mean;" said the landlord. "To read the Scriptures, and to pray with them," replied the guest: "surely you do not retire to rest in the omission of so necessary a duty." The landlord confessed that he never thought of doing such a thing. "Then, sir," said Mr R., "I must beg you to order my horse immediately." The landlord and family entreated him not to expose himself to the inclemency of the weather at that late hour of the night; observing that the storm was as violent as when he first came in. " May be so," replied Mr R., "but I had rather brave the storm than venture to sleep in a house where there is no prayer.

Cases, Embossed and Lettered in the same style as the above, Price One Shilling and Sixpence, may be procured by Subscribers, for binding their sets, on applying to any of the Agents.

Published by JOHN JOHNSTONE, at the Offices of the SCOTTISH CHRISTIAN HERALD, 104, High Street, Edinburgh, and 19, Glassford Street, Glasgow; JAMES NISBET & Co., HAMILTON, ADAMS & Co., and R. GROOMBRIDGE, London; W. CURRY, Junr. & Co., Dublin; and W. M'COMB, Belfast; and sold by the Booksellers and Local Agents in all the Towns and Parishes of Scotland, and in the principal Towns in England and Ireland.

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ON THE SECURITY OF THE DIVINE PRO

MISES TO THE CHURCH OF CHRIST.
BY THE REV. ROBERT HOUSTON, A. M.,
Minister of Dalmellington.

LIVE by faith, is the Christian's rule. In reference to the Church, this will bear the definition,-exercise a firm reliance upon the security of the divine promises. This is necessary,

I. To confirm our expectation of the coming of Christ's kingdom in the latter days. The history of the past presents us with a melancholy series of departures from the truth, or corruptions of its simplicity and purity. Each new revelation, enlightening for a time, has been followed by a season of darkness and corruption. This hath been the record of all ages, so that from the past, we have no encouragement to judge favourably of the future regarding man. Any argument founded upon analogy, would go to overthrow our hopes of a period of universal enlightenment-would repress every expectation of the rising of a sun which should never set-of the shining of a day of divine truth which shall be succeeded by no night. The antediluvian world, notwithstanding the fearful record of the fall, sunk into universal degeneracy. After the administration of the appalling lesson of the divine justice presented by the flood, the world soon again departed from the one living and true God. And were we to follow the history of Israel's posterity, we would find how apposite in the mouth of every one of those raised up to them, time after time, as deliverers or instructors, had been the saying of Moses to the assembled multitudes of the people, in his charge to them just before his death," I know, that after my death ye will utterly corrupt yourselves, and turn aside from the way which I have commanded you."-Deut. xxxi. 29. From the New Testament history, the same results may be gathered. The cities and lands enlightened by the apostles, are now overspread with darkness as before, or debased by the most fearful perversions of divine truth. The seven Churches would need to be born again to be as once they were. And, in later days, the scenes of most memorable reformations are now darkened by superstition, or have become the hot-beds of heresies and infidelity. In VOL. II.

PRICE 14d.

Italy and Spain, the light arose but to flicker, and fade, and die. In France, it gave a bright but evanescent flash. In Geneva, the fatherland of our own Church, the faith which Calvin preached, is now rejected and vilified. And what would be the inference which were we ignorant of any other guide to point our expectations to a brighter prospect, would naturally be drawn from all this? It could be nothing else than this, that there is a periodic rise and fall in a nation's Christianity, as there has been uniformly in the secular prosperity and intelligence of all nations. And what would be the inference as applied to our own Christianity, but that the day was approaching when it, too, shall pass away? And how would it bear upon the Christianity of the lands beginning to be enlightened? How, but to awaken the disheartening feeling, that when their sun had risen to a certain height, it also should decline and sink into the shades of night. Perhaps it may be said, there are new elements in the constitution of society now, which shall prevent these periodic revolutions in sentiment and faith. It is a suffi cient answer to this, that no such elements have been proved in the past, to warrant such expectations being certainly founded upon them. But surely this state of things corresponds not to the Christian's hopes. He looks for something else in the future than the past hath presented. He looks for a time when the Sun of Righteousness shall shed his enlivening beams over all lands; when the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the Lord, and all the kingdoms of this world shall become the kingdoms of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. But it is not by sight,-by looking upon the past history of the world,-that he is led to form this expectation. It is by faith, by reliance upon the sure fulfilment of the divine promises;-against hope, against all the expectation which the experience of the past would warrant: he therefore believes in hope; and, looking to the infallible security of the divine faithfulness which the sacrifice of God's own Son supplies, and the sure foundation of hope which is thereby laid, he staggers not at any promise, how contradictory soever it may seem to past experience, but can, and does, rejoice in the certainty which no adverse circumstances can affect, that there shall be a time

when none shall have occasion to say to his neighbour, "Know the Lord; but all shall know Him, from the least even unto the greatest." The promise of God standeth sure. The Christian's faith is the firmest, when he looks away from the calculations of human agencies to the divine agent, in verifying the divine promises, and the security of the ultimate triumph of that which the divine purposes have determined. He despises not, nor overlooks the duty of the most zealous and persevering human agency; for,

II. His faith in the fulfilment of the divine promises, is that which quickens his activity in labouring in the Redeemer's cause, while he knows that for all his planting and watering, God alone can give the increase; it is the certainty of this increase in the fulfilment of the divine promises, that stimulates him to plant and water the more. When the Christian looks at the little, at the less than nothing, human might and power have accomplished, or are able to accomplish in evangelising the world, he loses all confidence in the achievements of such an agency. With the loss of confidence in it, he feels the hopelessness of its employment, and when hope dies, exertion ceases. In any enterprise the cheerfulness of the mind and the activity of all the powers correspond to the hope of success.

With the decay of hope, the moving power of man's activity perishes. But upon what can the Christian found a sure and abiding expectation of the success of the Gospel, but upon the divine promises? The past history of the world gives no hope, but these give every hope. In these, therefore, is found, that which was needed to awaken the Christian's efforts in the cause of the Redeemer, but, having the security they afford, and relying upon it, he has all to quicken him to an activity which shall never weary, and to animate him to exertions which shall never flag. Is he sure of success, and shall he not be instant in season and out of season

in the Lord's work? It is not revealed to him that in the particular enterprize he hath meditated, he shall be successful, in exactly the form, and to the extent, and in the time he desires, but he knows that, whatever may be the result, it shall be, in the hands of the Sovereign Ruler of all things, one step farther in advance toward the glorious consummation for which we are taught to pray, and for which we are encouraged, by the security of the divine promises, to labour, when the will of God shall be done on earth as it is done in heaven."

"Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord, shall this be accomplished." This gives a security of a divine agency being manifested in the establishment of the Redeemer's kingdom, which may well animate every heart, and nerve every hand. The missionary of the cross goes not a warfare on his own charges. He who sends him says, "Lo, I am with thee always even to the end of the world." And all are missionaries of the cross who, in their several spheres, come to the help of the Lord against the mighty. They so run, therefore, not as uncertainly; so

fight they not as one that beateth the air. They sow in hope, content that others reap, knowing that the increase promised shall, in God's good time, be bestowed, and that they who sow and they who reap shall rejoice together. Let us, therefore, amid the varying aspects of worldly things, abound in hope, and, amid all the difficulties of time, be animated to duty by the security of the divine promises. "The God of heaven shall set up a kingdom which shall never be destroyed; and the kingdom shall not be left to other people, but it shall break in pieces all the kingdoms, in the days of which it shall be set up, and it shall stand for ever."-Dan. ii. 44. And we shall reap if we faint not. And we shall rest, and stand in our lot at the end of the days.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF
THE RIGHT REV. REGINALD HEBER,
LATE LORD BISHOP OF CALCUTTA.

THIS devoted and truly Christian labourer in the Lord's vineyard was born April 21, 1783, at Malpas, in the county of Chester. In early life his constitution was delicate, and it was severely tried by several successive attacks of disease. It pleased God, however, in answer to the prayers of his affectionate and pious parents, to raise him up from his bed of sickness, and to protract a life destined to be so eminently useful in the cause of the Redeemer. The utmost attention was

paid in his childhood to the cultivation of his mind, and more especially to the inculcation of pious sentiments and feelings. And the result was in the highest degree Bible with ease, and so extensive was his knowledge gratifying. At five years of age he could read the of its contents, that he could in most cases tell with the utmost readiness where any passage was to be found. Nor was his knowledge unattended with serious impressions. In the course of one of those attacks of sickness, to which he was so frequently sub

ject in his tender years, he remarked, on seeing his mother in a state of much alarm," Do not be afraid, mother, God will take care of us.”

At the age of eight, Reginald was sent to Whitchurch Grammar School, where he remained for five years, and was subsequently placed under the care of the Rev. Mr Bristow at Neasdon, near London. While at school, a circumstance occurred which shewed how

intently he could apply his mind to any subject in which he felt interested. On one occasion a new book having been presented to him by a friend, he began to peruse it just as they were closing the school for the night; and so absorbed was he in its contents, that he was locked up in the school, and did not discover his situation till the darkness of the evening coming on, roused him from his abstraction.

The influence of parental example produced a most salutary effect upon the amiable and susceptible mind of young Heber. He was remarked at school as a boy of intelligence and reflection far beyond his years. Though naturally timid and reserved, perhaps to a fault, he was beloved by his companions, and when at any time contrary feelings were manifested towards him, he speedily disarmed the rising enmity, by the

meekness and kindness of heart which he uniformly displayed. Dispositions so attractive were by no means the spontaneous manifestations of a naturally gentle constitution; they were evidently the result of a divine operation in the soul. And bence we find the same ardent piety, the same attachment to the sacred volume, the same scrupulous attention to the duties of devotion at Neasdon as when under his father's roof. The Bible was his daily and constant companion, and though strictly conscientious in his preparation for the employments of the school, he never neglected to consult that precious book, which alone could make him "wise unto salvation."

Anxious to embrace every opportunity of making progress in religious knowledge, he eagerly perused those works on devotional and practical divinity, in which his father's library so liberally abounded. An interesting incident, connected with this subject, is thus stated in the concise and well written life of Heber, by Mr Taylor:

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"One day, when Reginald was at the age of fourteen, his mother missed her Companion to the Altar;' search was made for it among all the servants, but it was nowhere to be found. After three weeks' fruitless inquiry, it was given up as lost, till at length she happened to mention it to Reginald, who immediately brought it to her, stating that it had deeply interested him, that he had made himself perfectly acquainted with its contents; and he earnestly begged permission to accompany his mother to the altar, when the sacrament was next administered. Penetrated with gratitude to God, for giving her so pious a son, Mrs Heber burst into tears of joy, and, as we may well be assured, cheerfully assented to his request."

evidently was, with a suitable portion of manly dig-
nity, rivetted the attention of all; while the rich
tones of his musical voice, modulated as they were with
exquisite skill, so as to give the most effect to the dif-
admiration, and left an impression on the minds of his
ferent parts of the poem, excited a universal burst of
auditors, never to be effaced.

Hush'd was the busy hum, nor voice nor sound,
Through the vast concourse, marked the moment near;
A deep and holy silence breath'd around,
And mute attention fix'd the list ning ear,
When from the rostrum burst the hallow'd strain,
And Heber, kindling with poetic fire,
Stood 'mid the gazing and expectant train,
And woke to eloquence his sacred lyre.
The youthful student, with emphatic tone,
(His lofty subject on his mind impress'd,)
With grace and energy unrivall'd shone,"
And rous'd devotion in each thoughtless breast.
He sang of Palestine-that holy land,
Where saints and martyrs, and the warrior brave,
The cross in triumph planting on its strand,
Beneath its banners sought a glorious grave.
He sang of Calvary, of his Saviour sang,
Of the rich mercies of redeeming love;

When through the crowd spontaneous plaudits rang,
Breathing a foretaste of rewards above."

Among the auditors who listened to this splendid exhibition of Reginald's powers was his aged father, then in his seventy-fifth year; who, though he had long been suffering under a severe illness, which had greatly debilitated his whole frame, determined to gratify himself by witnessing this literary effort of his darling boy. To describe his feelings on this occasion, with any degree of accuracy, would be inpossible; they can be much better conceived than expressed. Tremblingly alive, as he, of course, must have been, to his son's reputation, his emotions, when he saw him ascend the rostrum, were almost overpowering. He well knew the sensibility of which Reginald was the subject, and his apprehensions, lest it should prove injurious to him on this occasion, were not a little distressing. When, however, the youthful poet commencproceeded; and producing, amidst the deafening shouts ed, they gradually subsided, disappearing entirely as he of applause that rose from the delighted audience, a rush of feelings so highly gratifying as to be almost too much for his feeble power to sustain. Indeed, it has been stated, though certainly not with truth, that the venerable parent's days were shortened by the intensity of his sensations on the occasion."

Toward the close of 1800, Reginald left school, and was entered at Brazen-Nose College, Oxford, where his father had been, and his eldest brother was then, a fellow. His eminent talents, and fine taste, soon attracted notice, and the very first year he gained the university prize for Latin verse. His fame, however, rose still higher by the splendid specimens of his poetic powers which he gave in his English prize poem, entitled "Palestine." About the time when young What wonder would it have been though the youthful victor had retired from the theatre of the UniversiHeber produced this noble effort of his genius, Sir Walter Scott happened to be on a visit to Oxford. ty, on such an occasion, with a heart elated with pride! Far different, indeed, was the effect produced upon the Being invited to take breakfast in the College, the mind of Heber. He hastened to his room to pour out conversation naturally turned upon the prize poem, and on Sir Walter's expressing a wish to hear it, it was his heart in thanksgiving to God, who had given him read. Sir Walter paid its author some very high comsuccess; and when his mother, who had come along with his father to Oxford, sought for her son to mingle pliments, remarking, however, with the utmost kindness, that Heber had omitted one striking fact in de- her congratulations with those of others, she found scribing the building of the temple, that no tools were him on his knees, praising God for the degree of enused in its erection. Reginald instantly availed him-joyment which his beloved parents had that day expeself of the hint, and retiring to a corner of the room, produced in a short time those beautiful lines:

"No hammer fell, no ponderous axes rung;
Like some tall palm, the mystic fabric sprung.
Majestic silence!"

When called upon to recite his poem in the presence of the whole University, his friends were afraid that, from his natural timidity, he would scarcely do justice to it in the delivery. In this, however, they were agreeably disappointed.

"Never was a poem recited," says Mr Taylor, "more impressively, nor with more striking effect. His youthful, but most interesting appearance, none who had the happiness to be present could ever forget: his unaffected simplicity, associated, as it

rienced.

In a few months after the intellectual triumph which Heber had thus obtained, he was visited with a most severe trial in the death of his aged father. The peaceold man on his death-bed, tended, in a great measure, ful serenity, however, and holy resignation of the good to mitigate the anguish which he would otherwise have felt. It is painful, inexpressibly painful, to witness the expiring agonies of an unconverted sinner; but "prebeautiful, even in the sight of angels and of men, is cious in the sight of the Lord," and, it may be added, "the death of" the Almighty's "saints." Such a one was the father of the apostolic Heber. His last moments are thus described by Mr Taylor :—

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