christian, and a member of a christian church. And very pleasant it was to hear her tell of the good hand of her God which had protected her and hers, and had prospered her "basket and store" all through life. Old Sarah was remarkable for a very stout mind! as all persons can afford to be stout-minded who have an Almighty Saviour and Friend to rely upon, and who aim at nothing but what is friendly and kind towards all around. And it seems that her stoutness continued with her to the last. One day, old Sarah, in her usual health, marches off to the undertakers, and gives orders for a coffin to be made! "Yes, m'am," says the undertaker, "I will accompany you directly, to take the measure of the corpse." "You can take measure of me," said old Sarah, "that will be about the size." And so, for once, there stood a living vigorous body, being measured from head to foot, and from shoulder to shoulder, for a last wooden suit, she cheerfully chattering with the wondering undertaker all the while. The order was executed, and the coffin brought home; but"where is the corpse?" There was no corpse to be seen! The secret now came out that old Sarah, in her usual health, had been giving orders, on her own account, for an article which is not usually called for till after the hour of death!

And the undertaker, in equal surprise and admiration, was resolved to do honour to so heroic an action, the like of which, he protested, he had never beheld or heard of; and nothing would content him but that a part of what the coffin had cost 'must be thrust back into old Sarah's hand!

But what did she do with this coffin !-She laid it on the floor, alongside the wall, in her bedroom; and she laid herself in it regularly day by day, there to indulge solemn meditations, and so to quicken her devotions in preparing for another world.

One morning old Sarah failed to make her appearance in the family at the usual time. The room was entered: old Sarah was in bed, in a sitting posture, with the bible open before herspectacles mounted-hands folded-the coffin alongside, ready at any time to receive her-and she, now for the last time, was ready for the coffin ! This is all I have to say about poor old Sarah,— stout, lively, good old Sarah Pugh. I should

think she must now be in heaven.

Most people are afraid to die, or even to think of death. Some who are very rich; those who are wicked; and some young people too are afraid to die, or even to think of dying-are they not? And can they be happy thus? To

be sure it was an odd fancy of Sarah's about the coffin, and there is no need at all, or likelihood at all, that any other person, young or old, should go and do like that: but-which will you have, all the shining treasures in this great basket, the world, all poured around you at once; or, a heart in your bosom like that of old Sarah, who could go forth, courageously, to meet the universal foe; play round the hole of the asp; lie down composedly in the frightful cockatrice' den; and with a voice (I was going to say) of solemn, solemn silence, triumph, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" Well, blessed are the dead, whether aged or young, who die in the faith, love, and obedience of the Lord Jesus Christ; for they rest from their labours, and their works do follow them. should not like to die otherwise,-WOULD YOU?

I

W.

-m.

RECAPITULATION;

LAMBDA.

OR THE FIVE TRUE STORIES TOGETHER.

I HAVE told about Jack-o'the-Yard,

Who could smash the young birds in his fun; And I've told of his sad, sad reward,―

Smashed himself by the Frenchman's great gun.

Then let children their Bible esteem,
Which directs to a much better track,

Than the cruel and dangerous scheme,
Which was played by poor ignorant Jack.
I have told of the birds not in fledge,

Which a cockney boy kidnapped in sport;
But who ran with them back to the hedge,
Lest he should be served in like sort.

So let those who a mischief have done,
Never, never the mischief pursue,
Lest the hour of repentance be gone,
Then for ever, and ever, they'd rue.

I have likewise the story rehearsed,

Of the youth who was taught say, "No God!" Till the head of a cabbage conversed,

Then God's pathways he cheerfully trod.

Ah, how wretched the atheist's life;

After death-who shall tell of his doom? But the christian soon rests from his strife, And his pleasures for ever shall come. Then the poor little sweep was brought in, And there's no one will think him a fool; For, each Sunday, as clean as a pin,

He appeared in the sweet sabbath-school. And when perched on the high chimney top, Through whose dark filthy tunnel he'd climbed, As if nothing his gladness could stop,

Even there the nice verses he chimed.

Last, not least, came Old Sarah, (how odd!)

With her basket and vast pretty store;

Who had lived to the glory of God,
Knowing how to rejoice evermore.

But, each day, she'd be buried alive!

Whilst herself was the parson and clerk;
Till with death she no longer could strive,
And they laid her poor corpse in the dark
Yet whose soul!-ah! it triumph'd 'midst all,
And then mounted with joy to the sky.-
But, just here, I my pen must let fall,
And I'll sing,-little people g-o-o-d b-y-e!
W-

m.

LAMBDA.

How dark and dreary is the scene around! Nature is stripped of her brightest robes. The trees have lost their foliage. The fields and

lanes in which we have loved to wander cease to