makes thee more merry, if not more hapa py here, than the foresight of better things maketh ine. BISHOP HALL. A MOTHER'S ACCOUNT OF THE DEATH OF HER LITTLE GIRL. The dear child, whom I was called upon to resign, was between four and five years of age. Young as she was, I had observed in her first dawnings of mind, somewhat more than nature gives, even a gracious spirit; and this was still further and more plainly shewn in her last and suffering illness. She had been rather poorly for a few days, when she had a sudden attack of a most dangerous kind in the chest. The blow, which thus threatened' me, was so heavy, that, I trembled at its approach. Meanwhile, the Sabbath drew on, and the little sufferer asked whether her mother would not go to Church ? Upon my saying no, she replied, “O dear mother, now I see how you love me !" . Soon after this, she asked for the little property which she called her own; and dividing it into portions, named the friends to whom she wished it to be given. Then seeing my sorrow, she strove to comfort me by reminding me that she was going to heaven ; and that I should follow her. She then gave some orders about her fu neral ; and named the persons whom she wished to be her bearers. What I felt in listening to all this, is known only to God. But this was not the greatest trial to me. In the afternoon, the pain in her chest growing worse, she cried out, “O mother! I am going to die ; and now I feel I can't leave you: what must I do?” To this question I could only answer, “my love, you have long wished to be with Jesus; and now you must break loose from me.”—“O dearest mother,” she cried out, “how shall I do that?” “My child," I replied, “ you must pray. Upon her asking how she must pray, I offered to direct her; and kneeling down, I fervently commended this beloved child to the Lord; entreating him to loosen her affections from me, her mother, and from the world. We both wept while we prayed; and although oppressed almost to suffocation, she repeated every word as I said it; and when we arose from prayer, she said, “ thank you, dear mother ; now I am happy." She then begged, that as she should soon die, no more medicine might be given her: and her sufferings for an hour being very great, I cried to the Lord, who in his mercy restored her to a little more ease, and enabled her to speak once more to her family, who stood round her. She bade us farewell, and told us that her departure was near at hand. After which, she was spared from further sufferings, and in the course of a few hours, gently fell asleep in Jesus. Thus out of the mouth of this dear babe did the Lord ordain strength. May you, my dear children, seek God carly, and you shall find him. Beg of Jesus to give you his grace; to take the stony heart out of your flesh, and give you a heart of flesha humble and a contrite heart--and then whenever God shall call you by death, he will take you to heaven, where you will be happy for ever and ever. Verité. EARLY PIETY. In reading the life of Miss Ann B , the following account is given of a pious child, which I hope will please and instruct all who read the Chiluren's Friend. “ About this time (says Miss B.) I had great comfort in the society (for such I may call it,) of a little sister, whose age did not exceed seven years. The piety of this child was very striking. She was one, who was very often enquiring her way to heaven; and to be meet for that blessed state seemed to be her great concern. She would often retire for a long time in the dark by herself, refusing to have a light, lest her mind should be taken off from the subject of her prayer and thoughts, by seeing any object around her. She would with much dem light, bring the Bible and read to me while I was at work, and ask many serious and striking questions about what she read. "Janeway's token for children' was also a book with which she was often greatly affected and delighted. This child has been seen to weep in the midst of a lively and large company; and on being asked why she wept, whispered, that she was thinking what a wicked heart she had. She was suddenly attacked by a putrid fever; which in one day took away both her sight and her hearing; but in the midst of her sufferings, we saw her lifting up her hands and blind eyes to heaven, being evidently engaged in prayer. From the time she fell sick, till within half an hour of her death, which happened the next day, she appeared to suffer a great deal; but during the last half hour, she was restored to perfect ease; and a sweet smile was on her face, as her happy spi. rit took its flight to the kingdom of hea. ven, there to dwell with Jesus Christ her Saviour.” How young was this dear little child, and yet how great her serious piety! How anxious was she to know the way to heaven, and whether if she died, she were fit for that holy and happy place! She was not, as some children are, afraid to be in the dark, for she often went into a dark room to pray. She knew that all who worship God, whether young or old, must worship him in spirit and in truth; and it was her desire to worship God without a wandering thought. It was her delight to read her Bible, and to read it aloud to her sister whowas able to instructher: and she used to ask many questions about what she read, that she might know the meaning of it. And blessed are those children that grow in grace as they increase in years; and who desire to know more and more of Jesus Christ, whom to know is life eternal. This dear little girl would weep to think what a wicked heart she had, and no doubt she often prayed to God to give her a new heart. Though she was in a great deal of pain, and was blind and deaf, so that she could not see, or hear those who stood around her bed, could not see her dear father or mother, yet she knew that God her heavenly Father was with her, and to him she prayed, lifting up her hands and blind eyes to heaven. It was not long, she was in pain, for she soon died, and left this world with a sweet smile on her. face, knowing that she was going to hea. ven, where she would see her blessed Saviour, and hear his voice, and sing his |