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in one month he died of grief, and his death was more dreadful than any other trouble. My mother has until now managed to support herself and my little brother by her labour, and I have earned what I could by shovelling snow and other work that I could find to do. But the night before last, mother was taken very sick, and she has since become so much worse that "-(here the tears poured faster than ever-"I do fear she will die. I cannot think of any way in the world to help her. I have not had any work to do for several weeks. I have not had courage to go to any of my mother's old acquaintance and tell them that she had come to need charity. I thought you looked like a stranger, sir, and something in your face overcame my shame, and gave me courage to speak to you. O, sir, do pity my poor mother!"
The tears, and the simple and moving language of the poor boy, touched a chord in the breast of the stranger that was aceustomed to frequent vibrations.
The benevolent stranger immediately sought the dwelling of the sick widow. He entered a little room in which he could see nothing but a few implements of female labour, a miserable table, an old bureau, and a little bed, which stood in one corner, on which the invalid lay. She appeared weak and almost exhausted; and on the bed at her feet sat a little boy, crying as if his heart would break.
Deeply moved at this sight, the stranger drew near the bedside of the invalid, and feigning to be a physician, inquired into the nature of her disease. The symptoms were explained in a few words, when the widow, with a deep sigh, added, “O, sir, my sickness has a deeper cause, and one which is beyond the art of the physician to cure. I am a mother-a wretched mother. I see my children sinking daily deeper and deeper in misery and want, which I have no other means of relieving. My sickness is of the heart, and death alone can end my sorrows; but even death is dreadful to me, for it awakens the thought of the misery into which my children would be plunged if " Here emotion checked her utterance, and the tears flowed unrestrained down her cheeks.
“Do not despair," said the benevolent stranger; “think only of recovery, and of preserving a life that is so precious to your children. Can I write a prescription here ?"
The poor widow took a little Prayer-book from the hand of the child who sat with her on the bed, and tearing out a blank leaf
• I have no other paper,” said she; "but perhaps this will do."
The stranger took a pencil from his pocket, and wrote a few lines upon the paper.
“ This prescription,” said he, "you will find of great service to you.
If it be necessary, I will write you a second. I have great hopes of your recovery."
The mother took the paper, by which she was to receive the sum of one hundred dollars, from his own private property, to be doubled in case of necessity.
Let the children who read this story remember, that Washington, the celebrated American General, was not above entering the dwelling of poverty, and carrying joy and gladness to the hearts of its inmates.
MEMOIR OF BERNARD SEARLE.
BERNARD SEARLE was born at Tavistock, in Devonshire, on September 25, 1837. His parents, knowing the worth of religion, strove to “train up their child in the way he should go." From a very early age they regularly took him to the house of God, and sent him to the Sundayschool. They were very desirous that he should become, wise, good, and happy. It is, however, a matter of deep regret with many Christian parents, that their endeavours, to lead their children into the “narrow way that leadeth unto life," appear to be in vain. But Bernard was not like those thoughtless and ungrateful young people who despise, good counsel, and, by sinful conduct grieve the hearts of their parents, and bring down their grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. He was attentive to their teaching, and rendered cheerful obedience to their commands, and always
manifested gratitude for the favours which he received. He was remarkably kind in disposition; and had a strong love of truth. His faults were so few, and his excellences so many, that he was beloved by all who knew him. His daf-school Master says, “ he was the best boy in the school." His Sunday-school teachers say," he was always a pattern of diligence and seriousness to the class.” A minister who a few years since laboured in Tavistock, and who had a very intimate knowledge of Bernard, speaks of him in the following terms—
"I considered him remarkably quick in his perceptive faculties, and his memory was exceedingly retentive. His manners were very winning, chiefly from his kindness and good nature. Even when he was only seven years old, he seemed to prefer the happiness of others to his own. His benevolent desires were always evident from his prayers. Often he would most fervently pray for God to convert the world and end its misery."
About two years before his death, his health began to decline. There was one short interval when it was thought he would recover, yet it was only a circumstance that created a hope that was to be bitterly disappointed. For there appeared again symptoms of a wasting disease, which so prostrated his energies that he never rallied again ; but he became weaker and weaker, till death ended his sufferings; which, though great, were patiently endured.
At the commencement of his illness, he had a strong desire to recover, but the strength of that desire was soon subdued, and he became quite submissive to all the will of God.
Some months before his decease, he obtained a clear view of the Gospel-plan of salvation, and was enabled to believe on Christ, to the saving of his soul. Soon after this, he wrote to inform the minister, before referred to, as follows
“ The Lord has pardoned all my sins, and he has taken away my stony heart, and has given me a new heart, and a clean heart, and he has washed me in His blood who died for me. Sometimes I think I should like to live. Then I think I should rather die, and go to Heaven, and meet my dear father, and grandfather, and cousins, and all my friends. We shall be always happy there. There will be no pain nor sickness there. There will be no night there. I should like to see you again, but if we don't meet on earth, I hope we shall in heaven. I am prepared to go to heaven, and am only waiting for Jesus to come and take me to his bosom."
During the last four months of his life, the writer frequently visited him; and, though he suffered much, and was extremely weak, his mind was generally composed and happy. He took great delight in the exercises of religion, particularly in reading the Sacred Scriptures and Prayer. When unable to read himself, he would thankfully and devoutly listen, while his dear mother or any other person read. The words of his blessed Saviour, recorded in the latter part of the Gospel by St. John, were a source of great comfort to him. One night, when he was so ill, as to induce his friends to think it would probably be his last night, he reclined on his mother's arms, while his sister Caroline read a portion of God's Word. Then he desired his sister and one of his brothers to engage in prayer. At the close of their prayers, he, with all his remaining strength, began to implore the blessing of the Almighty upon his sisters and brothers, calling out the name of each, and entreated God to convert them, and save them from falling into hell. After that, he prayed for himself, pleading the encouraging words of the Saviour, “Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven.” With much fervour he exclaimed, “ Lord, I am a little child, thou canst, thou wilt bless me, and make me holy now." He then prayed the Lord to bless and preserve the life of his dear mother; in a most earnest manner implored God's blessing upon the ministers of the Gospel ; and, when nearly exhausted, concluded by praying for the world. “ Thus ended (says his mother) one of the most affecting scenes I ever witnessed."
He retained a devotional and believing state of heart, and consequently, enjoyed a good hope of heaven to the last moment of his life. One day, when a little depressed in spirit, his mother, to cheer him, recited the following beautiful verse
“ Arise, my soul, arise,
Shake off thy guilty fears;
In my behalf appears;
My name is written on his hands." When his mother had finished, he remarked, “ Jesus was failed to the cross for me;" this thought evidently gave him comfort. When it became evident to all that his end was near, his brother John (then at school in the country) was sent for, to take his farewell of his dying brother. Upon reaching home, and seeing the great change which had taken place in Bernard, John was affected to tears. The dying youth seeing this, very cheerfully exclaimed, * What is Johnny crying for? Don't cry, Johnny, don't cry, I shall soon be in heaven!" A few days before his eyes closed in death, his brother William being in the room, he took his Bible in his hand, and addressed his brother to the following effect.“ William, I make you a present of this Bible, and beg that you will read a portion of it every day with prayer.” Thus showing that he possessed Scriptural religion, which, when really enjoyed, not only secures personal happiness, but also produces an earnest desire for the salvation of others. The pious act just referred to, was soon followed by his last struggle for life. He expired December 23, 1849, being a little more than twelve years old. His end was peaceful and happy.
All who read this brief account, should keep in mind, that they will have to follow this interesting youth to the grave. And if they seek, love, and obey the Saviour, as he did, they will join him in heaven. Christ has said, “I love them that love me, and they that seek me early shall find