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Poetry.

GOD MADE THE MIND TO BE FREE.

FREE is the eagle's wing

As it cleaves the sun's warm ray; Free is the mountain spring

As it rushes forth to day:
But freer far the mind-
Priceless its liberty;

No hand must dare to bind!
God made it to be free.

You may fetter the eagle's wing,
No more through clouds to soar;
You may seal the mountain spring,
That it leap to light no more:
But the mind let none dare chain;

Better it cease to be!
Born, not to serve, but reign!
God made it to be free.
Free is the summer breeze
Floating from airy height;
Free are the flowing seas;

And free heaven's golden light:
But freer than light, or air,
Or the ever-rolling sea,
Is the mind, beyond compare!
God made it to be free.

Guard well the gift Divine,

Than gems and gold more rare;
Keep watch o'er the sacred shrine;
No foe must enter there.
Oh, let not error bind,

Nor passion rule o'er thee!
Keep the freedom of the mind!
God made it to be free.

THOMAS AVELING.

DEATH OF AN ONLY SON. SHE wrapp'd him in a little shroud,

Her first born and her last;
Her soul with heavy grief was bow'd,
Her tears were falling fast,
And ever and anon she prest
The icy burden to her breast.

She gently moved her trembling hand
Up through his silken hair;
Her warm, soft breath his pale cheek
fann'd,

But his was wanting there;

The hush'd lips woke no joyous strain,
Alas! they never op'd again.

His full, black eye was half unclosed,
But faded was its light,
And on the drooping lids reposed

Death's pale and mournful blight; In winning tones she call'd his name, But back a hollow echo came.

His infant toys along the floor

Lay scatter'd far and wide, Just as he left them there, before He laid him down and died: The mother raised them, one by oneThe treasures of her little son.

Within some safe and secret place
Those precious toys she hid,
Then, calmly, o'er his marble face
She drew the coffin-lid;

The pall's dark mantle o'er him spread,
But murmur'd not that he was dead.

Then, slow, his silent form she bore
Beneath a willow-tree,
Where once he loved to sit and pour
A song of childish glee.

A bird sang on a bending limb-
Perchance it sang a dirge for him.

Below, deep in the flowery sod,

A little grave was made; Its very turf his feet had trod, For there he oft had play'd. How felt that mother as she gave His play-ground for her darling's grave?

Her hand was firm, her cheek was pale,

But blanch'd not with despair, And sorrow only wing'd the wail

That rent the troubled air; For it was but dust she gave the sod, The gem she cherish'd was with God!

She scatter'd rose-buds on the spot,

And lilies pure as snow,

Then turn'd and sought her childless cot,

But spake not of her wo:

"In heaven," she cried, and sweetly

smiled,

"The mother meets her seraph child."

The Children's Gallery.

SKETCH OF MISS JOHNSON. MARY BIRCH JOHNSON was born on the 2nd November, 1827, and consequently completed her nineteenth year in November last. Her early history furnishes but few incidents for a narrative of the description intended, the great object in view being to illustrate the grace of God upon her heart. There were, however, elements of character exhibited by her in her later years, the first developments of which were manifested at a tender age, and to which it may be instructive to the young to advert.

Obedience to her parents and implicit confidence in their judgment characterised her from two years old. Having stated that a given thing was or was not to be done, they never relaxed the rule, but invariably accompanied the command with the reasons for it, and pointed out that her personal comfort and advantage were the objects at which they aimed. The result was a prompt and cheerful acquiescence with their desires simultaneously with it grew up a habit of referring to them for guidance, and when their opinion was given, no one could induce her to swerve from it. Under such circumstances, discipline and delight were convertible terms.

Love of truth was a feature of cha racter by which she was pre-eminently distinguished. Her parents cannot call to mind a single instance in the course of her life in which falsehood escaped her lips. If she discovered that she had done, or if she had met with any of those accidents to which all are liable, she was the first to make it known. As she adhered to truth itself, so she had a great abhorrence of prevarication in others; and when once she discovered any one guilty of it, she ever afterwards regarded them with suspicion.

ever she spoke of them it was with great delight, and she was truly happy in their society. This was exemplified with reference to several young friends with whom she formed an association at school. At one period, it was no unusual occurrence for them, with the knowledge of their parents, to accom. pany her home at the close of the school, though it led them a mile out of the way. Many of the attachments that she thus formed were dissolved only by her death; and the last invitation that she received to spend a day from home, but which illness prevented her from accepting, was from one of her former schoolfellows.

Her love of truth and her genuine sincerity led to great reserve in the presence of strangers, and to great care in the selection of companions. It was not until she had satisfied her mind that she could form a frank and generous acquaintanceship with them that she threw off her reserve and received them with cordiality. She had a remarkable aptitude in reading character; and although, from prudential motives, her parents felt it right to interpose when she with confidence and freedom expressed her opinion of parties, yet in almost every instance they coincided with her in opinion, and often were they constrained in her ab sence to applaud her discrimination.

Industry, perseverance, and punctu ality marked her in whatever she undertook or was engaged. During her attendance at school she was always desirous of being there at its commencement, and she prosecuted her studies with joyous ardour. The acquisition of knowledge was her greatest delight. To reading she was devotedly attached, and her parents were often compelled to check her assiduity, lest it should prove injurious to her health. The works she voluntarily selected for Closely allied to her love of truth perusal indicated the tone and charac was her deep sincerity. She was slow ter of her mind. For the light literain forming acquaintances with those of ture of the day she had no taste: her own age around her; but, having works of sterling character, fraught formed them, no ordinary circumstance with the highest instruction, and biocould alienate her from them. When-graphies of the most eminent charac

ters, male and female, constituted her delight. The details of Missionary operations, and the publications of Williams, Moffatt, and other missionaries, were read with such avidity, that it had long been the impression of each of her parents, though they never communicated the fact to each other until a few days before her death, that God had destined her for labour in that department of his vineyard.

These elements of character were associated with another,—without which, indeed, some of them could not have existed, namely, great thoughtfulness. She made her observations upon every one with whom she came in contact, and upon all the events transpiring around her, but more especially those having reference to the purity and extension of the kingdom of Christ; and hence the conclusions to which she arrived were marked by a soundness of judgment that is frequently not arrived at until twice her age has been attained. Although young in years, yet it was frequently the joy of her parents to bring her into consultation upon various domestic or other matters engaging their attention, and they seldom failed to derive from her some profitable hints.

To those who knew her it is unnecessary to state that chastened cheerfulness invariably marked her demeanour. There was a sprightliness and hilarity that tended to diffuse joy among all with whom she mingled. Notwithstanding her general serious deportment, there was a constant vein of humour 'which led to the utterance of pithy sentiments that irresistibly called forth the smile of those who heard them; and this continued until within a few hours of her departure. Her softness, kindness, and unassuming manners were proverbial. The thought of being able to anticipate a wish or mitigate a woe inspired her with joy.

To come, however, to her religious history. She was accustomed, from as early an age as circumstances warranted, to attend the public services of the house of God; and having been taught to reverence them, from a child she behaved there with great propriety.

About ten years ago she entered the Tabernacle Catechetical-school, and was never absent except when from town, or when other circumstances rendered it imperative. Her external conduct and demeanour were all that the most anxious parents could desire. When her studies at school became somewhat lighter from her previous attainments, and therefore ceased to make so great demand on her evenings, she evinced great pleasure in attending the week-day services, and on the Tuesday evening would apply herself with great vigour to her studies, in order that she might be able to attend the Bible-class, necessary absence from which she always deeply regretted. To her the Prayer-meeting, for some years, had been a source of hallowed joy. On the Lord's day she was conscientiously scrupulous of occupying her seat before the service commenced, and on her return has often deplored the habitual late attendance of some around her.

There was in her, as in many of the young, great diffidence in stating her views of Divine truth in reference to her own condition in the sight of God; and it was not until her last illness, (almost the only one she ever experienced,) that she communicated to her parents her internal emotions; though it appears that she had done so to one with whom she had lived on terms of inseparable friendship and love for nearly fourteen years. A few months prior to her death, there was a free interchange of thought between them as to their spiritual state-the result of which was that they had resolved on applying for Church-membership; and the probability is, that, had her life been spared, she would have been amongst the next admissions to the fellowship. It is a striking fact, and one which but recently came to the knowledge of her parents, that on taking tea with her young friend before referred to, about the period of their last joint birth-day, she observed to her, "Do you know I have a presentiment that I shall not live to see twenty;" and a similar remark was made some time afterwards, although at that time she appeared in her usual

vigorous health. The thought, however, had no depressing influence on her natural flow of spirits; on the contrary, she exhibited her ordinary cheerfulness up to the period of an attack of sub-acute bronchitis, or inflammation of the air-passages of the lungs, accompanied with an inability to expectorate, which baffled medical skill, resisted the means of treatment which in almost every case proves successful, and terminated fatally in little more than a fortnight.

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Shortly after she was confined to her bed she observed to her mother, who was lying by her side, "Mama, I am resting." "Resting where, my dear ?" "Resting on Jesus," was the calm and placid reply. The heart having thus yielded to the impulses of its emotions, that reserve upon religious subjects by which she had hitherto been characterised no longer existed, and a few minutes afterwards she exclaimed, Mama, I have been thinking this morning how good God has been to me in giving me the uninterrupted health which he has allowed me to enjoy." From that moment she continued at various intervals to speak to her parents, and those kind and sympathising friends who attended her by night and by day, of her love to Christ, and the calmness which she felt in resigning herself to his will. On being asked, eight days before her death, where she placed her hopes for time and for eternity, she instantly answered, "On Jesus;" and then added, with peculiar emphasis, "ALONE." To the question, "Is he very precious ?" she replied, Oh yes; he has supported me, or I could not have borne this,"-referring, as was supposed, to the pain occasioned by a large blister.

On Wednesday, March 10th, she was visited in the evening by her beloved pastor, Dr. Campbell. When he first entered the room she supposed it was the physician. Throughout the day she had been to a great extent unconscious, but the moment the curtains were drawn aside, she exclaimed, "Oh, it is our doctor." On Dr. C. inquiring what was the state of her mind, she answered, Calm, calm." On being reminded that Paul said, with refer

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ence to himself, that it was better for him to depart and to be with Christ, but for the interest of the churches it was needful that he should remain, she was asked whether she was willing to go to Christ, or, for the sake of her parents, to remain on earth, she responded, "Calm resignation for either one or the other." In reply to the question, when her mind was first impressed with Divine truth, she said, "I think rather more than twelve months ago; but I could not open my mind to any one." Her young friend before alluded to constitutes an exception. Inquiry was made as to whether she had any message for her young friends of the congregation or for the scholars in her father's Bible-class in the Catecheticalschool. After a few moments' thought, she said, "Tell them not to delay-it is dangerous." On her pastor pressing her forehead with his lips, she thought he was about to retire, and, gathering her feeble strength, with a tenderness of expression not to be forgotten by those who witnessed it, she inquired, "Will you not pray with me?" It is needless to say that an affirmative reply was instantly given; and on asking for what he should pray, she answered, “Submission to the will of God, and gratitude." It may here be remarked, that diffidence on the one hand, and gratitude on the other, were prominent features of her life.

On one occasion, her mother having referred to the happiness of having found peace in Christ, she answered, "A death-bed is not the place for repentance." When asked whether she thought she should recover, she replied that she had a presentiment that she should never be better. A day or two after, her young friend, Miss Jane Campbell, on entering the room, asked her how she felt. With her eyes closed, but with the greatest composure, she replied, "I shall not be here long." At another time, feeling great fatigue from exertion, she said, "How could I bear all this, if it were not that I lean on Jesus?" A friend, who assiduously waited upon her, quoted the line,

"Jesus can make a dying bed"

when she instantly interrupted her, her, she took it with as great avidity as and added herself,

"Feel soft as downy pillows are." On its being remarked, Jesus says, "Because I live, ye shall live also;" she replied, "We shall see him again, and our hearts shall rejoice."

Dr. Campbell visited her on the Thursday evening, accompanied by his eldest daughter. At first she did not appear to recognise them, and was wandering a good deal; but she suddenly stopped, and said, "Jane, I am near the end; but we'll be joined again;" | and she instantly relapsed into a state of unconsciousness. During her wanderings, she thought she was in her Bible-class, and uttered a sentiment with reference to her fellow-scholars which, it is to be feared, is but too true with many in all schools: "They stay at home for every vain, silly excuse:" and seemed much grieved at the absence of several teachers, some of whom she named; and added, “I think they should be spoken to."

On the Friday she appeared to rally a little; and on the passage being quoted, "In my Father's house there are many mansions," she said, "Yes, I thought I should have occupied one before this." In the afternoon of that day she requested to have the CHRISTIAN WITNESS and PENNY MAGAZINE for March, it having been her custom to read both through as soon as they were received, but which illness had prevented this month. She read a few lines, but was too much exhausted to proceed.

On Saturday and Lord's-day she revived considerably; but on Monday exhibited evident signs of the near approach of death, and it was considered doubtful whether she would survive the evening. She passed a restless night, and on the Tuesday morning was, to a great extent, unconscious; but, recovering a little, her mother remarked, "We must wait the Lord's time." She sweetly, and with a smile, replied, "Yes. Why are thy chariot-wheels so long in coming?"" On a friend remarking, "Jesus has trod the path before you;" she added, "Yes, death is a rough path." Some water being given

ever, and then said, "Thank you; but nothing can stop death." Just before she expired, she threw her arms around her mother's neck, and said, with indistinct utterance, " Oh, mama, I have such sweet promises; I am so happy!" A feeling of suffocation coming over her, she said, "Pray for me, that I may not murmur;" and then clasping her hands, she earnestly prayed, "O Lord, deliver me! O Lord, take me!" Her prayer was answered; and at ten minutes past three o'clock, on Tuesday, March 16th, she fell asleep in Jesus.

Throughout her illness" calm resignation," to use her own phrase, was the prevalent emotion of her mind. The enemy of her soul was not permitted once to harass her mind with doubts or fears. She knew in whom she had believed; and the decision of character that she had always shown in health, with reference to the transactions of time, now exhibited itself with regard to the salvation of her soul. She had several Bibles, each kept in the most convenient place for use; and that which she used in her bed-room has innumerable passages marked from which her pastors and others have preached.

J. F. J.

"WHAT A FOOL YOU ARE!" YOUNG lads, capable of much while doing nothing, hearken! "What a fool you are, Paley," said a young man in the university, "to be wasting your time in idleness and dissipation. You have talents which might raise you to eminence. I have none, and it is of no consequence how I act. I am independent of exertion; you are not, and will soon be a ruined man. Unless you alter, I have done with you. I will be no party to your destruction." This speech was made under peculiar circumstances. This young man and Paley had spent the previous night in drinking. Parting, they retired each to his lodgings. Paley was soon asleep; his friend could find no rest for thoughts of Paley's folly. Starting, he proceeded to Paley's lodgings, and awakening him,

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