ON THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE, MAY 5TH, 1821.
He falls! Napoleon Buonaparte is gone:
Who conquered thousands, conquered now by one:
His strength diminished, and his glory fled;
His kingdom taken, and his honour dead.
Though clad in warlike state,—without command;
A captive buried in a foreign land:
Oh! might we hope the captive now is free,
Escaped from bondage into liberty.
"In private I have been greatly blessed; but, oh! the sense of ignorance I feel makes me ashamed: yet I know not that I ever felt a deeper thirst for all that God can give. Come, Lord, and diffuse Thy presence through my soul. I have been reading Bramwell's Memoir; how desirable his life! How enviable his death! Help me, Lord, to follow after, and to walk in close communion with Thee; that I may apprehend that, for which I am apprehended in Christ Jesus.—At. St Michael's Church the Rev. John Graham improved the death of the Rev. William Richardson, who for half a century has laboured in York, and been much esteemed on account of his ministerial usefulness. He gave a concise account of Mr. R.'s literary and spiritual attainments. His Christian character was excellent. His chief joy was in Christ crucified; and his constant prayer, that he might not live longer than he could be useful. His labours continued up to his last illness, which lasted only a week, and his last words were, 'My pleasures are to come.' Thus died this eminent minister of Jesus Christ, aged 76. To me it was a season of especial profit; angels seemed hovering around."
REFLECTIONS.
Returning seasons bid reflection wake,
And o'er the past a winding passage take:
Ah! what a scene of change arrests the mind,
Within the compass of five months behind!
In many a home is hushed the voice of mirth,
And sorrow, as a flood, o'erflows the earth.
Here one, by sad misfortune followed fast,
In hopeless indigence is plunged at last.
Another, by disaster thrown aside,
Has got a crippled limb to prop his side.
There, death has made a breach, and left forlorn
The widowed mother, and the babe unborn.
Here, weeps the father o'er his orphan child,
Who thinks it strange, for formerly he smiled:
Oh! who can tell the sorrows of his breast?
'Tis sad experience must reveal the rest.
A few days since, a mournful crowd appeared,
In sable garb, and to the church repaired;
Ask you the reason of their measured pace,
Why silent all, and tears on every face.
Alas! the Pastor's dead, who, fifty years,
The Gospel tidings sounded in their ears:—
A man of God, endued with purpose strong,
Who lived the truth he taught, and hated wrong,
Full thirty years, the schools enjoyed his care;
The sick, the poor, the Missions claimed a share.
But now, we hear his friendly voice no more;
His course is finished, and the fight is o'er.
Come, hear the accents of his flying lips,
"My pleasures are to come;"—the curtain slips,
And hides what follows from our curious eyes:
Enough! he joins the chorus of the skies.
Another scene, and melancholy too;
The bridegroom widowed, ere he pleasure knew;
His hopes of bliss had soared unduly high,
And little dreamt he there was danger nigh;
But see! the throes of death his bride arrest,
The barbed arrow strikes her beating breast:
His hands have touched the cup, but ere he sips,
The wine is hurried from his burning lips.
Such are the sorrows which around I find,
Diverse, and manifold as human kind.
Let these suffice my gratitude to fire,
And with unfeigned praise my tongue inspire.
That I, so undeserving, still possess
Unnumber'd mercies, through redeeming grace.
Let each vicissitude my soul prepare,
By patience here, for endless glory there;
Where sickness ceases, and where sorrows end,
Where no misfortune can the bliss suspend;
Where death is banished, for the curse is o'er,
And love unrivall'd reigns for evermore.
"I have greater pleasure in visiting the sick, and the poor, than in visiting those who, as far as this world is concerned, are better circumstanced; in the former case, my object is simply to do or get good, but in the latter, I find it is in danger of being mixed with other motives. Christ is the end as well as the source of my happiness. Oh! to be saved in every word and thought, this is what my soul covets. I feel I am getting firmer hold of Christ.—I have been tempted to a spirit of fretfulness and ill-nature; praise the Lord for the victory. I was enabled to come to him for help, and power; and by ejaculatory prayer, found sweet access to the Throne. I can say it is my chief study to live to please God, and to obtain a complete victory over myself, which I find is no small conquest.—The prospect of my children's return from school has supplied me with another subject of prayer. I have asked for patience, perseverance, and firmness to guide them aright. By simply coming to the Lord, I obtain help; and am sure, that while I continue to act faith in His power, I shall be helped. Then help Thy servant evermore to trust in Thee.—Had purposed going to the Prayer-meeting, but was prevented; I believe Providence guided me, and appointed me another work. In talking to my family at home, I felt great liberty; the Lord loosened my tongue. Oh! that the seed may spring up, and bear fruit. I endeavour to pour out all my grievances before the Lord. I know that He hears my prayer, and am resolved to tell Him the worst of myself, as far as His grace enables me to discover it. I am decidedly resolved to be the Lord's, for I can obtain solid happiness from no other source; but the name of Jesus is a cordial to my soul. More faith, and more love, is all I want.—How frail I am! Conversing with a friend as I returned from the house of God, I uttered an unnecessary word, and immediately felt that I had grieved the Spirit of God. As soon as an opportunity of retiring presented itself, I poured out my soul before the Lord, ashamed that I should so often offend Him, whom I desire to love and obey above all things.—In my class I professed the enjoyment of the sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit; and, blessed be God, though I hold the blessing feebly, I do hold it; but the cry of my soul is, fill me with all the life of God."
[The following lines, written after reading a piece in favour of snuff and tobacco, will be edifying to smokers.]