' I felt confidence, but not
all I want. I seem only on the edge of living; I want to be 'plunged
in the Godhead's deepest sea.'--Six months since my dear mother
departed! She is daily the subject of my thoughts, and her memory
becomes increasingly dear to me. Well, it is but a short separation--a
thin partition; my earthly tabernacle feels the force of time--it
crumbles and decays; but by faith I look for a more durable
habitation, where I shall meet those who are gone before."
Time rolls away--yet fresh the scene appears
When my dear mother left this vale of tears;
Then, sorrow stamped its seal upon my heart;
Nature recoiled--but grace relieved the smart.
"Mr. R., discoursing on the necessity of exercising a forgiving
spirit, illustrated his subject by the following anecdote:--An officer
in the army lying on his deathbed, sent for one of the preachers to
visit him. On his entering the room, the sick man asked him, if he
remembered that he was once insulted by a company of officers while he
was preaching in Dublin. The preacher remembered it well. He then told
him, that he had been one of the worst of them; and had sent to ask
him to pray for him, and to teach him what he must do to be saved,--as
he believed he was a dying man, and was unprepared for another world.
The minister pointed him to the Saviour; and after praying with him
several times, was about to depart, when the officer offered him
a handsome present for his services. This he refused, and took his
leave.
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