: "He died on a Sabbath-day night," observed John Hill. "Yet on the Sunday morning," said the afflicted mother, "he was so well, and he had so nice a flush on his cheek, that he said, as he was better, and as it was the Lord's-day, he would try to sit up a little so he sat up a little; but, as I was making up his pillows, he complained he was so sore, that I bruised him. 'But He who can wound, can heal, mother,' said he; and if, after all, I should recover This speech put us in such spirits, that we did not know how to contain ourselves: but, as we feared to flatter him, my husband and I went to talk about the joyful thoughts by ourselves; and, to be sure, a blessed afternoon we had! Our dear love dozed a little the while! but when we went up stairs again,-O the sorrowful change !-his poor forehead had large drops standing on it, and his face was quite pale! Putting my cheek on his, I could not help shrieking out: O my child, my child, how cold your lovely cheek is!' and I looked again at his forehead, open as the day, and I saw a thick, heavy dew on it: I knew they were death-drops; and so they proved!" "Had he lived till now," cried John, "you might have seen his children, sir; and I might have been a grandfather!-Poor Sally Royston ! it was almost as bad for her as for us. They knew one another from their cradles."-"Sally was very kind and attentive after the death of her young friend," said the wife." She dressed prettily; and was very handsome.-When our love was dying, she watched the whole night of his death; but neither of us could do more than sit by the bedside, and bear one another up." "Do you know, sir," said John, "my dame says, F when she gets back to her home after going to a neighbour's, the thought of our loss returns like a mountain? and I could not struggle with it more stoutly than she, if a heavenly shower of tears did not come to relieve me."-"Every thing I look on," said the poor mother, "and every drawer I open, here at home, brings him to my sorrowful mind." “These, sir,” exclaimed she, taking a parcel from a drawer, "these copy-books are all of my dear child's own writing and enditing! See, how well, poor love! he cut his letters! O me! how often have I kissed the fingers and hands that wrote those words!-I will tell you the last words that ever passed his dear lips: Mother, the Lord did not forget me in the sixth trouble; nor will he forget me now the seventh is upon me.' 66 Surely," said the husband, taking his friend's hand, "if he were on the other side of me, and this hand of mine were as fast in his, as this is in yours; and I had you both to look at, first one, then the other, and my old mistress just where she is; I should be almost too happy! But I am thankful for what is: two of you are left; and if the third is not in Heaven, the Lord have mercy on thousands and millions!" The next morning, the gentleman went into the village church-yard: where he found the graves of poor John Hill's son, who died January the ninth, 1792, in the twentieth year of his age; and of the young woman, whom, if it had been the will of Providence, he would gladly have had for his daughter-in-law. The inscriptions were as follows: "A youth is laid beneath this stone: Death nipp'd the bud, the blossom's gone. Be still each parent's sighing heart; "Twill turn past bitters all to sweet." "His friend, Sarah Royston, died of the same disorder, in 1793, twenty-three years old. A pale consumption gave the fatal blow; The stroke was certain, though th' effect was slow. Close to the gate of the church-yard, John Hill met his friend. "I thought where I should find you, sir, from what was said by dame last night. Yes, there they are laid, poor loves!-I seldom go by without a look at them, though sometimes I am so foolish, I am fain to turn my head the other way: yet, for the most part, I go right in, as close up to their graves as I suppose you have been, and stand and cry over them, just like a child. I know it does me no harm; for when I come away, I am all the better here at my heart, though sometimes I do not speak for the rest of the day." "I built this partly with my own hands, and my poor boy's that are now all dust," sighed John, sorrowfully, as he pointed to a neat but unfinished cottage, opposite the church; "on purpose for my dame and myself, had my son and Sally lived to marry, and taken the farm: but as God took them, I broke away, not being able to stand it, so near to the poor loves' graves. But, I believe, dame and I shall go into it ourselves, as we both think we should like to be near the children now ; and they lie close over against the room, to which that window, sir, belongs. As my wife says, why should we slave in the farm any longer? we have nobody who cares much about us, to enjoy it after we are gone; no son, no daughter, no grandchildren, as we might have had, if it had pleased God! And we have enough to keep us alive, perhaps longer than we wish for we both hope to meet our dear boy again some day; and if it were God's good will, I wish it were to-night. This night shalt thou be with thy Lord, in Paradise.'-You, no doubt, remember all about that, sir." "It is my own ground, and that orchard is ours," continued John Hill, as he showed his friend the cottage premises. "Ay, sir, if you had seen how I worked and sowed, and planned and planted!-But come, sir, let us go farther; this is all nothing now.-My child is dead; and dame and I shall not be long after him. We ought to submit: and we do; only we cannot help wishing, more especially now you are with us, that the Almighty had pleased to let them close our eyes, instead of our closing theirs. I know it would have done your heart good to see such a young man as he was, and such a young woman as Sally Royston, to come after us. But it was not to be: and God knows best whom to leave; and whom to take away." CHAPTER V. MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. SECTION 1. On reading. To have good books, and to be able to read them well, is a great privilege. better. They instruct us courage us to do it. They comfort us in our distresses, and afflictions. They pass away our leisure hours pleasantly and usefully: and the amusement which they afford, is cheaper than almost any other; especially if we have an opportunity, as most people frequently have, of borrowing them. They are true friends; excellent counsellors; and agreeable companions. They make us both wiser aud in our duty; and sweetly en. To read with advantage, the following directions are proper to be observed. 1. Read with attention. When you are reading, try not to think of any thing else. People who read, without thinking what they are reading about, lose their time; and they cannot be the wiser, or the better, for what they read. 2. Reflect upon what you have read, or heard other people read; and, if you have a proper opportunity, converse upon it. To relate what you have read, or heard, is the best way to help you to remember it yourselves. It may afford many useful and pleasant subjects of conversation; and may often prevent quarrelling, telling idle tales, silly joking, and talking |