FROM Calvary's cross a Fountain flows

Of water and of blood,

More healing than Bethesda's pool,

Or famed Siloam's flood.

The dying thief rejoic'd to see

That Fountain, in his day;

And there may I, though vile as he,
Wash all my sins away.

Dear dying Lamb! thy precious blood

Shall never lose its power,

Till all the ransom'd Church of God

Be saved, to sin no more.

E'er since by faith I saw the stream

Thy flowing wounds supply,

Redeeming Love hath been my theme;

And shall be, till I die.

And when this lisping, stamm'ring tongue

Lies silent in the grave,

Then, in a nobler, sweeter song,

I'll sing Thy power to save.

HYMNS REFERRED TO IN PAGE 11.

O GLORIOUS hour! O blest abode !

I shall be near, and like my God;

And flesh and sin no more controul
The sacred pleasures of my soul.

My flesh shall slumber in the ground,

Till the last trumpet's joyful sound;

Then burst the chains, with sweet surprise,

And in my Saviour's image rise.

THERE is a land of pure delight,

Where saints immortal reign;

Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.

IN Thy blest kingdom we shall be
From every mortal trouble free;

No groans shall mingle with the songs

Resounding from immortal tongues.

The following Hymn, which was sung at the Funeral of his sainted Mother, has ever since been regarded with peculiar interest by him, and her other Children who remember that event.

Lo! round the Throne, at God's right hand,
The saints in countless myriads stand,
Of every tongue redeem'd to God,
Array'd in garments wash'd in blood.

Through tribulation great they came ;
They bore the cross, despis'd the shame:
From all their labours now they rest,
In God's eternal glory blest.

Hunger and thirst they feel no more,
Nor sin, nor pain, nor death deplore;
The tears are wiped from every eye,
And sorrow yields to endless joy.

They see their Saviour face to face,
And sing the triumphs of His grace:
Him day and night they ceaseless praise,
And thus the loud Hosanna raise :-

“Worthy the Lamb, for sinners slain,
Through endless years to live and reign!
Thou hast redeem'd us by Thy blood,
And made us kings and priests to God!"

JERUSALEM! my happy home!

Name ever dear to me!

When shall my labours have an end,

In joy, and peace, and thee?

APPENDIX,

CONTAINING

A BRIEF MEMORIAL

OF

MATTHEW MORRIS PRESTON.

To the above record of the grace of God manifested in his Second son, FRANCIS GARRATT, the writer feels it to be due to the same grace, to add the following Brief Memorial of his Fourth son, MATTHEW MORRIS; who died in the Lord, on the 5th day of April 1836, in the 13th year of his age.—It was addressed to the Congregation at the Parish Church of Cheshunt, at the close of a Sermon preached the day after his burial, from the words

THANKS BE TO GOD, WHICH GIVETH US THE VICTORY
THROUGH OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST.

1 COR. XV. 57.

SHOULD, I think, be wanting in the expression of gratitude to our Divine Redeemer-and I should defraud you, my dear friends, of the benefit of which you may, by the grace of God, be partakers through me if, from over-delicacy, or any other cause, I withheld from you the testimony to the sufficiency of the Gospel to take away the sting of death, which it was my privilege to receive from the lips of the precious lamb of Christ's flock, whose mortal remains were yesterday committed to the tomb.

Though young in years, he had given unequivocal proof that the Gospel of Christ had been made to him the power of God unto salvation. He had been quickened, by means of it, to a new life; which, though peculiarly modest and unobtrusive, was not of doubtful character or origin. It was not the natural life of one "engendered* of the offspring of Adam"; but that of which the Spirit of God is the author-the life of one, who, having been born of the flesh, had also been born again of the Spirit.

*Ninth Article.