to the plain below and cross the narrow stream, and he is in possession of it. But he hears the authoritative voice: "I have caused thee to see it with thine eyes, but thou shalt not go over thither." He is to die at the very moment when he most wished to live. (4.) Still more unwelcome would the summons be to quit the world thus early, because it was a sign of God's displeasure with him. The strange command is explained by the words of Numbers xx. 10-12: "And Moses and Aaron gathered the congregation together before the rock, and he said unto them, Hear now, ye rebels; must we (not must God) fetch you water out of this rock? And Moses lifted up his hand, and with his rod he smote the rock twice (his petulance making him forget both the command he had received and the Divine power by which the miracle was to be effected): and the Lord spake unto Moses and Aaron: Because ye believed Me not, to sanctify Me in the eyes of the children of Israel, therefore ye shall not bring this congregation into the land which I have given them." (See also Deut. xxxii. 48-52.) It is the consciousness of sin that, more than all else, makes men unwilling to die. It is not the earliness, not the disappointment, nor even the pain, that makes us start back. "The sting of death is sin." If a man be assured that God is pleased with him, he will find little difficulty in facing all the terrors of dissolution. Moses knew that but for the displeasure of God he might have continued to live, and might have died long hence under happier auspices. But he is dying under a cloud. It is a very solemn feature of the government of this world, that God often allows a good man's sins to cast a shade over the remainder of his life, and even to darken its close. Eli was a good man; but his culpable weakness in the management of his family was allowed to bring on terrible consequences, to himself and to them and to his country. David was "a man after God's own heart;" but his declension from the ways of piety left its bitter remembrances to the end of life. Hezekiah was a devout man; but his vainglory was punished by the distressing announcement that all the magnificence of which he had boasted should ere long become the prey of the invader, and that untold calamities awaited both his descendants and his people. And so it often is. Conscience sometimes brings the retribution. Sometimes the result is seen in mischief done, to oneself or others, which can never be repaired. Sometimes a more direct interference declares God's displeasure against the sin of His servants. It matters little how in any case the law is equally plain. Moses knew that he was suffering the displeasure of God: therefore he could not but be unwilling to die. : (5.) Finally, he had to die alone. Very few are willing to die thus. We have heard of one instance* in modern times. But that was in the case of a man so extraordinary in his life that it might almost have been predicted that his death John Foster. would not be like that of other men. It seemed but in the course of nature that one who had lived in such close and fearless fellowship with the unseen world should desire to make his actual entrance into it alone that he to whom God had long been so solemn a reality should wish then to be alone with Him. 66 But such cases are rare. Most men would die in the presence of others. The man strong in faith would have them there to listen to his dying testimony-to hear him say: "I know that my Redeemer liveth." It is said that Addison on his death-bed sent for a young friend, and thus addressed him, not boastfully we can believe: Come and see how a Christian can die." One of an affectionate nature would desire to console those who love him and weep for him, and to give them the last embraces of friendship. A timid saint would have his Christian friends around him to whisper to him consolations meet for the dying. One who has been longing for the conversion of relatives and others would have them see him die, as a last solemn expostulation on the all-important subject. Very few would die alone. It is a solemn season. The spirit is about to enter an untried world, and to stand before God. If ever man needed all that human presence and human aid can do for him, it is then. Moses was a man possessed of human sympathies in no common degree. The stern energy and force which such a life as his required did not make him forget to love. In reading his history we are often made to feel that it would have been much more for his happiness if he had had less tenderness of spirit. How fitting that such a man should have died, like Calvin for instance, surrounded by those who loved and revered him, and waited to receive the last solemn admonitions from his lips. But he must die alone-with no human hand to support him, no human voice to cheer him. On that solitary, bleak, mountain-top he must pass away from the world he had loved so well. (To be continued.) A NOBLE FELLOW. FOR THE YOUNG. "Leave me," he said, feebly; "put me down under that tree, and go back to your duty. You may turn the fortune of the day-but all your care cannot keep me from dying. What matters a little more ease to me, in comparison with our glorious cause? A stray shot even, would only put me out of my pain the sooner." His companions left him unwillingly, for he was within range of shot and shell; but the stars and stripes waved them onward, and they saw him no more. X The dying soldier lay with closed eyes until, opening them for a last look at earth, he saw a comrade fallen from his horse, while a rebel officer stood over him with uplifted sword. The effort caused him exquisite pain, but he could just grasp a pistol; and as the rebel fell over on his face, Lieutenant Wharncliffe breathed his last sigh, and the Union officer returned to the ranks, to use the life thus unexpectedly saved in gaining a victory that filled all loyal hearts with hope. "If he had only lived!" added the fair reader. "I would have given anything to see him--and such a beautiful name, too! I wonder how he looked? Like a hero, I hope." "Very few heroes answer our expectations in this matter," replied a gentleman of the party, with a smile. "But what you have read reminds me of a boy I once knew. you will honour me with your attention, I should like to tell you something about him." And if As the gentleman in question never told anything that was not interesting, the party were at once transformed into eager listeners. "Half a hundred school boys, ranging from the ages of ten to eighteen, furnish abundant material for observation and speculation. So thought the young collegian who had just taken charge of the flock in question, when he had succeeded in reducing them to something like order. It seemed to Horace Brace (as we will call him) that the school was a particularly interesting one; and as he was somewhat given to dreaming, he had already picked out a future poet, a general, an orator, a Chevalier Bayard, a Roger Ascham, and a few other worthies. "But, alas! he soon found that the poet was given to slang and peanuts, that the general was a decided bully, the orator a mere spouter, that the Chevalier without reproach richly deserved it, and that Roger As cham peeped into books at recitation He began to realize the fact that a boy is primarily a boy; and over that inevitable superstructure there is sometimes a slight colouring of what he may be,and often times none at all. "A very commonplace boy, decidedly short and dumpy, with a general look of whiteness pervading hair, eyes, complexion, and an evident disinclination to speak more words than were necessary at any given time, came by degrees under the teacher's notice; and after a while Mr. Brace regarded him with positive pleasure, for the simple reason that he never disappointed him. He raised no expectations of any kind, but pursued the even tenor of his way as placidly as a calm river. The boys all called him 'Shorty,' and for some time the teacher supposed this to be his name, and also called him by it, to the great amusement of the other pupils. It seemed doubtful if Shorty' would remon strate, had he been dubbed Beelze bub. "And yet none of his companions despised him. Far from it. There seemed to be a sort of latent affection for him in every boy-heart there; and if not brilliant, Shorty' was always a respectable average. accomplished no triumphs, but nei ther did he suffer inglorious defeats. He "Mr. Brace often found himself watching the boy, and wondering if there might not be more within that cranium than appeared on the sur face; and, one day, he believed that he had found it. "A spelling-test' had been instituted, with going up and down,' and by some accident or other 'Shorty' was promoted to the head of the class. The defeated ones were evidently not at all pleased; and after school was dismissed' Shorty' lingered, and said, awkwardly enough, to Mr. Brace, "If you please, sir, I'll take my old place again to-morrow. I like it better, and I don't think going 616 Shorty' was always in time, always knew his lessons, but never volunteered any original remarks upon them; had always time to help any one who needed helping; never cared about using his sled, if some other boy wanted it; indeed, he usually discovered a very hard sum that would keep him in doors on such occasions, and often supplied one or two companions from his lunchbasket. "The orator and genius of the school laughingly informed him that he had a whole rag-bag full of humdrum virtues. 666 "Shorty' smiled, but said nothing. "Once there was a fire in the schoolhouse; a fire where one ought not to be; and the flames burst out first over the stove-pipe. There was a great commotion; the master looked pale, and the boys scampered about without being of the slightest use. "Suddenly the stove-pipe was torn down, and pail after pail of water dashed on the spot around which the flames seemed to circle; a squad of boys by some magic being formed into a line, and filling the pails and kettles from the well as fast as they were emptied. "In a short time the fire was extinguished; and then Mr. Brace asked, 'Who tore down the stovepipe?' 566 Shorty!' shouted half a dozen voices; and the shy boy was dragged out from behind a pile of desks. "You have done a good work today, my boy,' said the teacher, in a voice full of emotion; 'not only in seeing just what was to be done at the right moment, but also in organizing the band of workers who proved such effective aids.' 666 "I couldn't help seeing it, sir,' was the reply; ' and the other fellows worked as hard as I did.' "Presence of mind,' continued Mr. Brace, with the feeling that he was saying just the right thing, 'is an invaluable gift; not so showy, perhaps, as some others, but one to which, as in the present case, we often owe a lasting debt of gratitude.' "The fire made a great talk; and some of the larger boys, the general and the orator among them, 'only wished that the flames had really rushed through the top of the building, that they might have scaled it with ladders, and had their hair and eyebrows burned off perhaps; and then their names would have been in the paper, and wouldn't that be glorious?' "But Shorty' said he was very glad the flames didn't get any higher; he didn't think he would enjoy climbing into them, and leaving his hair and eyebrows behind. "The orator and the general were a little contemptuous at this reply; they agreed that 'Shorty' was a good, plodding sort of a fellow, but with nothing of the heroic about him. "And this was the estimate in which he was held until he died; then, light broke suddenly upon the blinded ones among whom he had walked unrecognised." "What was his real name ?" asked the bright-eyed young lady, with sudden interest. "Lieutenant Wm. Wharncliffe," was the reply; "and I was his teacher." "Then he was Shorty!' Òh, what a noble fellow !" And so they all thought. THE FATHER OF ENGLISH HYMNS. ABOUT the year 1675, a worthy Deacon Watts, who kept a Puritan boarding-school in Southampton, England, was locked up in prison for being an incorrigible Dissenter. It was during the reign of the second Stuart, which Macaulay has well styled "the reign of the strumpets." Before the door of the good deacon's cell, his wife used to come and sit while she sang for the comfort of her imprisoned husband, and for the quieting of her eldest born baby, which she held in her arms. The little Isaac must have been drawing in some inspirations of his mother's music with his mother's milk. He was a poet from the cradle. His earliest thoughts he shaped into rhyme. His mother offered a copper prize to the children in her husband's school for the best bit of poetry they could produce; and Master Isaac, then in his eighth year, won the prize by the following saucy couplet: "I write not for a farthing, but to try How I your farthing writers can outvie." At fifteen the precocious lad had made choice of the "better part," and became a follower of Jesus. He worshipped at the Independent Church in Southampton, of which his father was a deacon; but the preaching edified him more than the service of song. The congregation were endeavouring to praise God every Sabbath in the clumsy, jawbreaking measures of Sternhold and Hopkins or the jolting rhymes of Nahum Tate. To the tuneful ear of the young student this saw-filing process in the name of sacred psalmody was utterly beyond endurance. One Sabbath morning (in 1702), after service, he vented his contempt for such ill-conditioned doggrel, and the only reply he received was, "Give us something better, then, young man!" He accepted the taunting challenge, went home, and produced, before sunset, a hymn which was lined off, and sung at the evening service. It began with the verse : "Behold the glories of the Lamb, Amidst His Father's throne: The author was just eighteen years old; but on that Sabbath our English Hymnology was born, and young Isaac Watts was its father. Well might Montgomery say that he "was almost the inventor of hymns in our language, so greatly did he improve on his now forgotten predecessors in English sacred song." Richard Baxter had written twenty years before, his beautiful, "Lord, it belongs not to my care, But the single seed-corn did not sprout into a hymnologic harvest. Watts had struck the Meribah-rock of melody, and the waters continued to gush forth. In the year 1707 he gave to the Churches an |