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childer I have baptized come to light me home this blessed dark night. Well, as he was going on happy and comfortable in his mind, watching the gambols of the blessed little crathures, when all on a sudden (God atone us and all harm) (at which all the Romans present crossed themselves), what should jump over the hedge, and perch right before his rivirence's feet, but a decoy, weeny, dawney little bit of a small taste of an apology of baby, with the smallest taste in life of a dark lantern in his hand. In God's name,' says his rivirence, mightily astonished at the apparition, Who are ye? what are ye? and what does ye want wid me?' Why thin, yer rivirence,' says he; ' and not maneing to offind or frighten ye, my father is Pawthric Mullownay, and my mother is Biddy O'Flannagan, that was afore yer rivirence, 'said the words over them' (married them) and I was born two months afore the time, be rayson of a fright my mothar got, and sorre a bit of me was baptized afore or afther, and here I've been wanthering up and down this cowld airth widout a glimmer of light to show me the road; and knowing that yer rivirence was coming this way, by the same token that I knew that all these childer that ye see ware going to light ye home, says I to myself, I'll go and ask him to christen me, that I may not be wanthering about in the dark for so many thousands of years.' 'Why my dear little craythure, God rest your sowl,' says the priest, 'Sure I never heard of the like afore.' 'Och! by the powers ye have, ye can do it if ye like,' says the baby. I have no holy wather,' says the priest. Ye can bless what's in the dyke there,' says the spirit. But there are no sponsors,' says his rivirence, by way of excuse. "There are two men coming on,' says the babyghost, and I'll never leave tormenting yor till its done.' Well, sure enough, just at that moment up came two men, when the priest told them what was the mather, although they could'nt see anything, and he began the ceremony. He hadn't gone far, however, afore he was stopped. There is something wrong,' says the priest, and sorra a bit of me knows what it is, except one of yees is a Protestant.' 'I am,' said one of the men. 'Ah!' says he, I thought so.' 'Wait awhile,' says the spirit, 'there are more coming on.' In short, up came two or three more, and thin his rivirence went on and finished the ceremony-when, by this and by that, a light came in the dark lantern of its own accord, and away went the little spirit capering and jumping to join the other lighted lamps who were waiting for him, and away they went altogether, kicking up such a shindy as would delight yer hearts. There, boys, that's the story I was going to tell yees.'




A Cornish miner present declared, "I would'nt believe that if I saw it myself." Why, thin," says the relater, looking fiercely at the Cornishman, ye sassenah (Saxon) of a heretic, if ye had been any where else nor here, ye would'nt be over-much obleeged to yersel for that word; but there's no making any impression on the likes of ye. Shure, didn't I know the priest myself, and one of the men that stood sponsor, and the father and mother of the child; and don't I remimber when the same child was born, ye omathawn (fool)." Fearing a disturbance might arise at the "wake," the "sassenahs" thought best to decamp as quickly as possible.

W. H. J.


THE following lines were written by a poor man* living at Darsley, in
Gloucestershire, at the time when so many banks failed in 1825,
showing the security and superiority of the treasure which the be-
liever has in Christ and in the word of God above all earthly riches.
There's thousand ransom'd sinners fear
They've got no notes at all,
Because they feel the plague of sin,
So beggared by the fall.

Though thousand notes lie scattered

All signed and sealed and free, Yet many a doubting soul will say, "Alas! they're not for me."

This is my never-failing bank,

My more than golden store; No earthly bank is half so rich: How can I then be poor?

'Tis when my stock is spent and gone,
And I not worth a groat,
I'm glad to hasten to my bank,
And beg a little note.


Sometimes banker smiling says,
"Why don't you oft'ner come?
And when draw a little note,
Why not a larger sum?


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Base unbelief will lead the soul

To say what is not true;
I tell the poor self-emptied soul,
These notes belong to you.

Should all the banks in Britain break,
The Bank of England smash,
Bring in your notes to Zion's bank,
You're sure to get your cash.

Nay, if you have but one small note,
Fear not to bring it in;
Come boldly to this bank of grace,
The Banker is within.


go again, I need not fear
My notes should be rejected;
Sometimes my Banker gives me more
Than's asked for or expected.

Sometimes I felt a little proud,
I managed things so clever;
But then, before the day was gone,
I felt as poor as ever.

Sometimes with blushes on my face,
Just at the door I stand;
And if 'twas Moses kept the bank,
I'm sure I must be damned.

'Tis sure my bank can never break,
My bank can never fall;

The Firm, Three persons in one God,
Jehovah, Lord of all!

[The writer was DANIEL HERBERT, father-in-law of our late Correspondent, JAMES GROOM. Mr. Herbert had been in a considerable way of trade; the failure of two houses owing him large sums plunged him, however, into difficulty, and brought him to live the remainder of his days a yet more entire dependent upon Divine bounty.-ED.]

Should all the bankers close their Behold, and see the dying thief

Hung by his Banker's side;
He cried, "O Lord, remember me!"
He got his cash, and died.


My bank stands open wide, To all the chosen of the Lord's, For whom the Saviour died.

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• 1 Cor. xiii. 13. In this verse the word that we translate charity (ayaπŋ) signifies love.


99 66


AMONGST every class of people there is one topic which fills every mouth. It is THE TIMES-" perilous times," "trying times," "critical times," awkward times," "struggling times," "sad times," "painful times," "extraordinary times," "distressing times," and many other sorts of times we hear of. The commercial man, the tradesman, the workman, the clerk, the schoolmaster, the servant, the peasant, and all others have their minds directed to that subject, and almost every one differs in opinion from the other about the times. But, as there is nothing new under the sun," so there have been times like the present, in some respect, at any rate; some such times of anxiety must have existed when the kingdom was departing from the house of Saul to the house of David and his favoured family; and in his times there was a very important class of men that came over to him: "The men of Zebulun that had understanding of the times to know what Israel ought to do." They also "could keep rank, and were not of double heart" (1 Chron. xii. 32, 33). Now, are there any such men as the men of Zebulun? and if we have them, let me entreat them to tell us "what Israel ought to do." I think it is not impossible that something might be thrown out that may be useful to ministers, churches, and to private Christians. Now is the time that the words of Nelson might, with a little alteration, be applied to the Church of God, Israel "expects every man to do his duty."


Camden Town, Feb. 16, 1848.


Wesley and Whitfield Revived. Plymouth: John Bennett. Svo., pp. 16. THIS is a reprint of two letters from the Rev. George Whitfield to the Rev. John Wesley, which will repay the reading. Wesley's dogmas and fables are in a masterly way disclosed, and the doctrines of free and sovereign grace advocated in opposition to those of pretended free and universal grace.

The Farewell Sermon of the Rev. C. D. Gawler. Plymouth: John Bennett. 8vo., pp. 21.

A great deal more of self in this sermon than of Christ. It is unconnected, and by no means can we recommend it to the readers.

City Press, 1, Long Lane: W. H. COLLINGRIDGE.






APRIL 1848.


"And the Lord shut him in."-GEN. VII. 16.

[No. 88.


Amid the multitude of thoughts which occupy one's mind in this busy, bustling city, presenting as it does so perfect a contrast to the loneliness and quiet of the dark, the desolate mountain-wilds of poor, benighted Ireland, there is one reflection peculiarly grateful. It is that with which the words of our text furnish us. Who of us can contemplate with indifference those events which are now rapidly pressing upon us-the convulsions into which all Europe is thrown? Who that has watched the downward career of our long-favoured England, during the last twenty years, can now stand unmoved? See how visibly the Lord's hand has been upon this guilty nation. Let the citizens of London contemplate that commercial shock-such an one as never before was known-from which their city is only now recovering-nay, beneath which she still writhes, and ask, "Is there not a cause? What were their doings in the last election? Was God's truth their Was the maintenance of England's long and justly-esteemed national Protestantism their object? Nay; but filthy lucre- paltry gold-took the precedence of all other considerations, however momentous and important. Regardless of sound constitutional principles, they frittered them away-bartered the blessings of our common Christianity for a mere idolatrous influence and wealth-and, in return, had imme


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