again into his former careless habits, and remained in this state till the close of the year 1849, when he was providentially led to the Wesleyan Association School in Bowker's Row, Bolton. His attendance at this school was remarkably regular and constant; he was also particularly noted in his class for seriousness and attention. By the blessing of God, upon the means employed for his spiritual instruction, he soon became deeply concerned for the salvation of his soul. He was invited to attend a class-meeting, and to become a member of the Society. He gladly accepted the invitation, and after the usual time of probation, was enrolled as a member of the church militant; little anticipating, at the time, that he would so soon be called to join the church triumphant.

He evidenced an earnest desire to be delivered from the bondage of sin, and to enjoy the liberty of God's dear children. Nor did he in vain seek salvation; for he who says "Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest," removed from his conscience the burden which oppressed him, and whispered in his soul, “Thy sins, which were many, are all forgiven thee." So that in the language of the Prophet, he was enabled exultingly to exclaim "O Lord, I will praise thee; though thou wast angry with me, thine anger is turned away, and and behold thou comfortest me." In this state he continued to enjoy the comforts and blessedness of true religion.

For some time previous to his death, his health gradually declined, but he was able to go through his ordinary work, until within a few days of his dissolution, when he was obliged, on the Wednesday morning, to desist and return home, owing to pain and weakness of body. It was then that his case assumed a serious aspect. The time of his departure was rapidly advancing; and on Friday morning, being the last day he spent upon earth, his symptoms were truly alarming. Indeed, he seems to have had a presentiment, that on that very day he should finish his earthly carcer, for he declared to some of his relatives early in the morning that he should die at two o'clock.

His medical attendant, on arriving, declared his case hopeless, and deemed it unnecessary to prescribe for him. When the opinion of his doctor was made known to him, he manifested no alarm. Death was not the king of terrors to him. He was fully prepared for his change; and when a friend asked him, if he had heard what the doctor had said, he replied "Yes, I have no desire to live." His leader, accompanied by a friend, visited him a few hours before he died, and putting the question to him "How are you, John?" He replied "I am comfortable and yet miserable;" evidently referring to the calmness and serenity of his mind, and to the excruciating pain of his body. He was afterwards asked, "Is your hope and confidence in God?" He distinctly and emphatically replied, "Yes, my hope and trust are in God. Religion is my all and in all. I am not afraid to die." In this happy frame of mind he continued till within a few minutes of two o'clock, when he gently fell asleep in Jesus, and his triumphant spirit took its flight to the eternal mansions of light and glory.

"His God sustained him in his final hour.

His final hour brought glory to his God."

He died January 17th, 1851, aged twenty years. Could he be permitted to pass the limits which bound the residence of the saints in light, and address his relatives, his school associates, his friends, and the members of the church with whom he was united, O how he would urge upon them, by the worth of the soul, by the misery of the impenitent, by the happiness of glorified spirits, by the love of God, and by the sufferings and glory of Christ, to be in earnest for the salvation of their souls! How solemnly and impressively would he remind us that it is a serious thing to die and to enter into the presence of the Judge of all! that life is uncertain, and that the only true source of bliss is to be found in the reconciliation and favour of God! His death was improved, by the writer, to an over-flowing congregation, in our chapel, Bowker's Row, Bolton, Sunday evening, January 26th, 1851.

M. BESWICK.

SINGULAR CONVERSION OF A ROMAN

CATHOLIC.

BRYAN MC MAKEN was a poor ignorant Roman Catholic, who acted as a herd for a number of families near Newton Stuart, in the county of Tyrone, north of Ireland. The Methodist preachers visited the place to which he belonged; and Bryan, under the preaching of Mr. Joseph Armstrong, was so deeply convinced of his sinful state, that when he returned to his cabin, after the sermon, he was unable to conceal his distress from his wife. On her inquiring into the cause, he said, "I think God Almighty is looking at me 'every minute, and is angry with me." She did her utmost to make him quiet, but to purpose; and as a last resort, she advised him to go to the priest on the following morning. He took this advice; and having told his case, the priest said to him, "Oh, you have been hearing these Methodists; nothing better could come of it." "Oh," said Bryan, "it is they that have done it upon me; but, Sir, what shall I do, for I cannot live this way?" After scolding him, the priest said, "Well, I will tell you what to do, and you will be well enough; go to the dance which is at John's to night; and when you return home take a hearty glass of whiskey, and get Madge (his wife) to sing you a song, and all will be well." In obedience to this advice, Bryan and Madge went to the dance; but he had not been long there, before he started up, saying to his wife, "Madge, come away! I am worse and worse." On his return home, however, he took the rest of the advice, drank the whiskey and heard the song; but to no purpose.

In the morning, far from being relieved, his distress was greatly increased, and Madge advised him to go once more to the priest. He went next morning, and told his reverence that he was no better, for "God was still looking at him," and was "angrier and angrier." He was then ordered to go to Lough-Derg, and heavy penances were prescribed, so many crossings, genuflections, stations, walking on his bare knees, &c. Having accomplished

this task, he returned, and told the priest that he was no better. "Then," said the priest, "you may go to the devil, for I can do no more for you; but mind, you must never go near the Methodists again." "Oh," said Bryan, "there is no danger of that; they have done enough upon me already."

Notwithstanding this resolution, being a short time after drawn by his employment to the preaching-house, during the time of Divine service, he ventured to the door to listen to the singing, then heard the prayer, in which he thought there could be no harm, and lastly ventured in. The preacher, knowing nothing of the case of Bryan, was led to describe the state of awakened sinners, and the advice sometimes given to such to relieve them from their distress. Bryan having by this time, got near the pulpit, exclaimed, "That is just what he said to me," and there and then, before the congregation, he detailed the whole of what had passed between him and the priest. The preacher told him he could never be happy nntil he was converted and obtained the forgiveness of his sins; adding, "Kneel down, and we will pray for you?" The whole congregation then fell upon their knees, calling upon God to have mercy upon the penitent. After some time, he leaped up, clapped his hands, and said, "I have got it! I have got it! I know he is not angry with me now! O, Sir, will you come and convert Madge ?" The preacher replied, that he would go and talk with her next morning; but Bryan could with difficulty wait so long.

As soon as he got home, he exclaimed, “O Madge, sure I'm converted! God is not angry with me now." "Bryan dear," said his wife, "who converted you?" "O said he, "it was the preacher." "Would he convert

me?" said she, "for I am as bad as you." "He would convert all the world," said Bryan. The preacher visited Madge, and explained to her the plan of salvation, by Jesus Christ, and she was soon brought to enjoy the power and comfort of religion. Bryan could not rest now without going and telling the priest. He was advised not to go; but go he would; and in the face of the congregation,

in his own way, told the priest of the happiness of his soul. The priest ridiculed him, and threatened him with excommunication; to which Bryan replied, "You may save yourself the trouble; you could do nothing for me in my distress, and I will never come near you more."

Bryan and Madge suffered much from their bigoted neighbours; but they held on their way, and are long since lodged in the paradise of God. They brought up their children also in the fear of the Lord; and one son became a respectable local preacher among the Methodists. DR. A. CLARKE.

HAPPY DEATH OF THE LITTLE WANDERER.

BY C. C.

A BRAVE, beautiful young boy was our youngest born! How earnestly we gazed into his deep, dark eyes, when he lay a baby in his mother's arms. Closely we watched, day after day, as he unfolded his infant powers. We waited for the first word from his lips, the first tottering step of boyhood, as children watch for the opening of a rose-bud in spring. When he did lisp our names, we prayed that we might fold him to our hearts life-long.

Years passed on, and the boy grew-taller, paler, thoughtfuller. We heard no more his bounding step or merry laugh, or his bird-like song.

We often found him with books, and in the deep, silent woods. Sometimes he would stand and look into the murmuring brook, or seat himself by the dashing water-fall, or gaze from his window into the evening shadows. New leaves were opening in Nature's wondrous book, and the boy was studying earnestly their ever varying names.

One mild and mellow autumn night-I well remember it, the air was soft and balmy-lulling the wayward, restless spirit into child-like peacefulness. The flowers gave forth their choicest perfumes, the birds their sweetest notes. It was a night to tempt one forth to silent musings, or "To converse sweet with Nature

In her holiest mood."