52 THE SHAMROCK. 



look clianged from the softest companion to the 

 most indignant severity : and he replied, with great 

 spirit, ' No ! Devil hate Jesus Christ — Jack hate 

 Devil :* and went on in a strain of lofty exultation, 

 in the prospect of seeing the great enemy chained 

 for ever in a lake of fire. He did not excuse those 

 who perished in unbelief and enmity : he seemed 

 to mourn for them in the exact spirit of his Saviour, 

 who, as man, wept over the sinners whom, he nev- 

 ertheless, as God, sealed up in just condemnation. 

 When I asked him if he ever prayed for those who 

 were dead, he answered, in some surprise, ' No,' 

 and enquired whether I did. 1 repHed in the 

 negative. He said, ' Good ;* and added, that the 

 red hand was not put on the book after people 

 were dead, but while they were on the earth, and 

 praying. Yet the idea of the soul slumbering 

 was to him perfectly ridiculous — he quite laughed 

 at it. The day before his death, he asked me, 

 with a very sweet and composed look, what mes- 

 sage I wished him to deliver to my brother, when 

 he should see him : 1 desired him, in the same quiet 

 way, to tell him that I was trying to teach his little 

 boy to love Jesus Christ ; and that I hoped we 

 should all go to him by-and-by. Jack gave a satis- 

 fied nod, and told me he would remember it. Accus- 

 tomed as I was to his amazing realization of things 

 unseen, I felt actually startled at such an instance 

 of calm, sober, considerate anticipation of a change 



