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A TRUE STORY OF LUCKNOW.

Regiment was anxious to speak to me. In the inner ward I found, lying on his chaepoy in a corner, a new face, and, walking up to him, said, 'I am told you wish to see me; I do not recollect the pleasure of having seen you before ?' 'No,' he said, “I have never seen you, yet you seem no stranger, for I have often heard speak of you. I asked him if he was ill or wounded, 'I am ill,' he replied. He went on to say that he had just come down from Cawnpore. 'Perhaps you would like me to tell you my history. It may be you remember, a long time since, some of our men going into the hospital opposite as you sat reading to one of the Highlanders. There were some half-dozen or more of them; they went to see a sick comrade. You went up presently to them, and told them how grateful you and all your country. people were to your noble soldiers for so readily coming to protect you all. Then you talked to them of the danger which would attend them, You reminded them that life is a battle-field to all, and asked them if they were soldiers of Christ, and if they had thought of the probability of their falling in battle, I have heard all about that long talk you had with the men. gave your Bible to one, and asked him to read a passage, He chose the 23rd Pealm, and you prayed. They asked you for a book or tract to remind them of what had been said, and you gave them all you had in your bag, But for one man there was none. They were to start that afternoon, so that you had not time to get one. went to the apothecary, and got pen and paper from him, When you came back you gave this paper to him, telling him you

should look for him in heaven.' As he said this, the poor fellow pulled out from the breast of his shirt half a sheet of note paper, on which I recognised my

Then you

But you

A TRUE STORY OF LUCKNOW.

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writing, though nearly illegible from wear.

On it was written the 1st, 7th, 10th, 14th, 15th, and 17th verses of. the 2nd Corinthians V., and that hymng

How sweet the name of Jesus sounds.' • That man,' he continued, and I were in the same compan but he was a day a-head of me. We met in Cawnpore, then marched on with the rest to Lucknow, Whenever we halted, the first thing James did was to take out his paper, and read it aloud to those who cared to hear. Then he prayed with us. As we marched he spoke much of his old father and mother, and only brother, and wished he could see them once more. But he was very, very happy, and ready to “go home” if God saw fit. As we neared Lucknow he dwelt much on eternity, and said to me, “ It is very solemn to be walking into death. I shall never leave this ill-fated city. We had many fights, standing always side by side. I am an orphan; I lost my parents when a child, and was brought up at school. I never had one to love me, and life was indeed a weary burden; yet beyond all was darker still, for I knew nothing of a Saviour. James's reading and words came to my heart—he was so kind to me, and always called me brother. I never loved till I had him. He had found Jesus, and led me to love him too. I can., not find words to say how I joyed when at last I felt I had a friend above! Oh! I never shall forget my joy wben I first understood and believed. We had no book, only the paper.

We knew it off by heart, and I don't know which of us loved it best. At last, in a dreadful fight in one of the gardens, a ball struck James in the chest. Words cannot say my grief when he fell—the only one I had to love me. I knelt by him till the

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A TRUE STORY OF LUCKNOW.

garden was left in our hands, and then bore him to the doctor's. But it was too late-life was almost gone. “Dear George,” he said to me, “I am only going home first. We have loved to talk of home together--don't be sorry

for
me,

for I'm so happy
How sweet the name of Jesus sounds,'

Read me the words she wrote." pulled them out from his bosom, all stained with his blood as you see, and repeated them. “Yes," he said, "the love of Christ has constrained us. I am almost home. I'll be there to welcome you and her ; good-bye, dear George.” And he was gone, but I was left. Oh! it was so very bitter! I knelt by him and prayed I might soon follow him. Then I took his paper, and put

in my bosom, where it has been since. I and some of our men buried him in the garden. I have gone through much fighting since, and came down here on duty with a detachment yesterday. They think me only worn with exposure, and tell me I shall soon be well, but I shall never see the sky again. I would like to lie by his side, but it cannot be.' Poor fellow! he cried long and bitterly. I could not speak, but pressed his hand. At length he said, 'So you'll forgive me making so bold in speaking to you. He often spoke of you, and blessed you for leading him to Jesus. And he it was who led me to Jesus. We shall soon be together again, and won't we welcome you when you come home.' We read and prayed together. He was quite calm when I rose from my knees. He was too weak to raise his head even from the pillow, but was quite peaceful and happy. 'I feel,' he said, 'that I shall not be able to think much longer; I have seen such frightful things. Thank God! I have sure and blessed

CHINA-AN EVENING AT PIHCHUIA.

23

lope in my death. I have seen so many die in fearful terror.' I turned to go. He said, 'Dear Lady, when I am gone, promise me this paper shall be put in my coffin. It gave me a friend on earth who led me to a Saviour in heaven.' I promised. Next morning I went to see him, but oh! how sadly altered did I find him! Those soft brown eyes were glassy and lustreless. He was never to know me again. Dysentery in its fearful rapid form had seized him during the night. I took his hand in mine ; it was clammy and powerless. Three of the men in the ward came up to me, and said, “Till sense left him, he was talking of home with Jesus.' They knelt with me in prayer beside the poor sufferer. I went again the next day. His body was still there, but his spirit had fled a few minutes previous. He was covered with his blanket, and the coolies were waiting to bear him away. I took his paper from his pillow, where it had been laid, and went to the apothecary. We walked back to the corpse, and he placed it in the hands of the departed. He was buried that evening. I have often thought since how beautiful was that heavenly love which bound those two dear young soldiers together.

How it sweetened their last days on earth. They were indeed friends in Jesus, and though their remains lie parted, yet they are both sleeping in Jesus. Oh! what a glorious resurrection theirs will be in the day of his appearing !"

CHINA-AN EVENING AT PIHCHUIA. Those who read the Juvenile Messenger will know that Pihchuia is a place about twenty miles from Amoy, where there is a number of converts to Christianity, and where Mr. Douglas goes in the “Good News” Boat to

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CHINAAN EVENING AT PIHCHUIA.

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preach the gospel. In a newspaper lately received from China there is a letter from a gentleman who visited the mission station one evening in a very unexpected way. He had set out from Amoy with a fellow-sportsman, their boat was upset by a gale of wind, and a junk going to Pihchuia, rescued them from a watery grave.

The boatmen would not return to Amoy with them, but showed them much kindness, taking off their clothes and insisting on their putting them on to prevent their catching cold. But you must read the account of their visit to the station in their own words, keeping in mind that the pastor referred to was Mr. Douglas :

Running with a fair breeze, in the course of an hour or so we reached Pihchuia, and were led by the boatmen, amidst the cheers of the small boys, to the missionary chapel. Our guides conducted us through the Chinese chapel, up a ladder to a room above, where a teacher was instructing a class of boys. The learned man, when he first saw us in our dirty dress, and a mob rushing in at our heels, felt annoyed; but as soon as he heard that we were peaceful inhabitants of Amoy, who had met with an accident while on a boat trip, his countenance immediately assumed a bland expression, and he invited us into his room, and made us recount to him, as well as we could, our accident, while he sent to have our clothes dried. Several converts came to have a look at us, and amongst them an old respectable-looking man, who was somewhat deaf: and when the rest explained to him what had occurred, he turned to us and said, in a serious tone, “ you ought indeed to be thankful to the Almighty for having spared you from a watery grave!” After we had chatted some time with our visitors, we were shown into a small private room, with a table, a couch, and a couple of bamboo chairs; this we were told was the Misa sionary's private apartment whilst he taught amongst them. On the table was laid a dinner, half Chinese and half English, and we were left alone to dress and enjoy our meal. Our long subjections to moistening influences had given us extraordinary appetites, and we did

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