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With reverence deep thy steps attending,
Tune their bright harps in mystic sound.

Midst countless heavenly armies blending,
Drawn thy majestic path around."

If, after viewing these stars which decorate the southern part of the heavens, you turn your eye to the opposite side, you will there behold the seven large stars in the tail of the Great Bear, whose pointers direct to the North Pole Star, also the constellations Cepheus, Cassiopeia, &c., &c.

Note. On the 21st, in the morning, the Moon passes over Regulus, and hides the star from view twelve minutes: the immersion takes place fourteen minutes past three, and the emersion twenty-six minutes after three o'clock. A representation of this phenomenon is given in my Almanack for 1840, p. 29; also a table by which the southing of the stars may be found with great ease.

JUVENILE OBITUARY.

1. DIED, April 6th, 1837, at Chesterfield, in the eighteenth year of his age, Samuel, son of the Rev. George Wilson, Wesleyan Minister. About three months previously, he had an attack of influenza, then generally prevalent; and from that time, his health, which had long been delicate, rapidly declined, till his illness terminated in death. From a child he had been thoughtful, and humane, loving and reading the holy Scriptures. He began very early to think of the Heathen, and was always glad both to contribute to the cause of Missions, and to collect for it. As he grew older, he read on Missionary subjects, and acquainted himself with the particulars connected with the different Missionary stations; and he would sometimes speak of spending his days in Africa, that he might be more useful. As he had been brought up carefully and religiously, he did not, for some time, see so clearly as he should have done, man's guilty estrangement from God, and depraved nature; but the light of the Spirit discovered to him this sad truth, and convinced him of his own need of mercy through the Saviour. He sought reconciliation with God, and peacefully awaited his solemn change. Towards the last he appeared to suffer much, and was strongly convulsed; but he commended his soul to God; and, when pleased God, suffering and life ended together. GEORGE WILSON.

2. Died, April 16th, 1837, at Cambridge, M. A. Davis; who from earliest childhood appeared to be blessed with the restraining fear of God; and in the fourteenth year of her age was enabled to devote herself to God, seeking earnestly the salvation of her soul. This was in 1831; from which time, though she often lamented her spiritual deficiencies, she was kept by the power of grace, so as to adorn in all things the doctrine of God her Saviour. About a year before she died, the first symptoms of disease appeared, often very much affecting her spirits; but even when most thoughtful, she was enabled to sink into the will of God.

On

one occasion, being visited by a young friend, who appeared much distressed at seeing her in the state in which she then was, she herself gave the consolation which, it might have been thought, she would have asked for herself. "But," she said, " my comfort is, that I am going home,-going to a happy home." She felt and expressed a great solicitude for the salvation of those who visited her, and would speak to them very affectingly of the goodness of God, of which she was favoured with such manifestations, that, amidst all her sufferings, she was enabled, without wavering, to place herself at the divine disposal.

On one occasion, repeating the verse of a hymn, it was said to her, "You will soon be able again to sing:" when she quickly replied, "O yes; and it will be,

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'More sweet, more loud,

And Christ be all my song.""

On the day of her death, she was remarkably happy. Her father stood by her bedside, acutely feeling, as may easily be conceived, at seeing his last remaining and most beloved child thus passing from him; but she was his comforter. Her face beamed with joy as she spoke of the preciousness of Christ to her soul. Her last words were, "C Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard:" she could proceed no further; but she waved her hand when her tongue failed, and died in the evident triumph of faith.

J. D.

3. Died at Newcastle-under-Line, April 30th, 1837, Elizabeth Jopson, aged sixteen years. When between eleven and twelve years of age, she had a long and severe affliction. When convalescent, she was sent into Cumberland for a change of air; and after her return, the evidences of a work of grace on her mind were apparent. In November, 1835, she was enabled to sing from her own experience,

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My God is reconciled, his pardoning voice I hear,
He owns me for his child, I can no longer fear;
With confidence I now draw nigh,

And, Father, Abba, Father, cry.'

About this time, likewise, she saw it to be both her duty and privilege to be united with the church of Christ; and in a constant use of the means of grace, she earnestly sought a more entire conformity to the divine will. At the commencement of her last affliction she felt a strong clinging to life; but in a short time she became perfectly reconciled to the will of her heavenly Father. At different times she was so abundantly filled with the love of God, and her prospects were so bright, that it appeared as if her enlarged soul could no longer be confined by the fetters of mortality. A few days before her death, she exhorted all the members of the family present to prepare for a future state; and with the tenderest feelings of affection, entreated her pious mother not to grieve at her death, as they should soon meet in a better world. In this happy waiting frame she continued, until she calmly fell asleep in Jesus. J. B. HOLROYD.

THE BROOKLET.

BY SIR ROBERT GRANT.

SWEET brooklet, ever gliding,
Now high the mountain riding,
The lone vale now dividing,
Whither away?

"With pilgrim course I flow,
"Or in summer's scorching glow,
"Or o'er moonless wastes of snow,
"Nor stop nor stay;
"For O, by high behest,
"To a bright abode of rest
"In my parent ocean's breast
"I hasten away!"

Many a dark morass,

Many a craggy mass,

Thy feeble force must pass;

Yet, yet delay!

"Though the marsh be dire and deep, "Though the crag be stern and steep, "On, on, my course must sweep, "I may not stay; "For O, be it east or west,

"To a home of glorious rest

"In the bright sea's boundless breast,

"I hasten away!"

The warbling bowers beside thee,
The laughing flowers that hide thee,
With soft accord they chide thee;
Sweet brooklet, stay!

"I taste of the fragrant flowers,
"I respond to the warbling bowers,
"And sweetly they charm the hours
"Of my winding way;

"But ceaseless still, in quest

"Of that everlasting rest,

"In my parent's boundless breast,

"I hasten away!"

Know'st thou that dread abyss?

Is it a scene of bliss?

Ah, rather cling to this;

Sweet brooklet, stay!

"O who shall fitly tell

"What wonders there may dwell?

"That world of mystery well

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Might strike dismay;

"But I know 'tis my parent's breast,

"There held, I must needs be blest;

"And with joy to that promised rest

"I hasten away!"

PRAY FOR YOUR QUEEN.

(From the Church of England Magazine.)

"Endue her plenteously with heavenly gifts; grant her in health and wealth long to live ;-and finally, after this life, may she attain everlasting joy and felicity, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."-Liturgy.

PRAY for your Queen: upon your Sovereign's brow
Youth lingers still, nor has experience there
Written her duties in the lines of care;
The hand that holds fair England's sceptre now
Is but a gentle maiden's; can it clasp
That mighty symbol with a steady grasp?
Dark clouds are low'ring o'er our sunny sky;
If they should gather, could that fragile form
"Ride on the whirlwind and direct the storm?"
Wisdom, strength, energy, are from on high;
Wouldst thou enrich her with these blessings? Pray:
One reigns above whom heaven and earth obey.
Pray for your Queen: hers is a woman's heart,
And woman's perils lurk around her way;
Pleasure may lead her heedless steps astray,
Or flattery soothe when conscience wings its dart.
Love, that sweet well-spring of domestic joy,
Scarce rises in a court without alloy;

And woman's sorrows may be hers to share:
Sunshine has beam'd upon her path thus far,
But this bright scene one sudden storm would mar,
And England's rose might droop, though now so fair.
Say wouldst thou shield her from these perils? Pray:
Strength shall be granted equal to her day.

Pray for your Queen: for an immortal soul
Is shrined within that bosom. Could we see
Time by the brightness of eternity,
A shade across life's pageantry would roll:
Then we shall know how perilous is power,
Not bounded by the limits of life's hour:
Its deeds are stamp'd on history's open page;
Nor there alone,-a tablet is on high,
Before the' Almighty's pure and holy eye;
That record fades not by the touch of age,

And she must hear its witness. Christian, pray
That joy be written there in heaven's bright ray.

PRAY FOR THE QUEEN, AND FOR THYSELF.
DOES God command me for the Queen to pray,
That, through the grace of answer'd prayer, she may
Govern the people of her charge aright?

And, does he not command me in his sight
To live, reposing on Him all my care?

Yes; my whole life must be a life of prayer.

London: R. Needham, Printer, Paternoster-Row.

E. T.

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