THE VINE. 121 



Jeroboam's to wither and be dried up ; but after a 

 season he mercifully restored it.' 



One of the last efforts of my dumb boy, with his 

 pencil, was to complete a copy that he had commen- 

 ced from a print of Barley Wood. He left it after 

 all, unfinished; but the window is distinctly pour- 

 trayed : and the distant church, where now repose 

 the maortal remains of Hannah More. She lived 

 to shed many a tear for me, when the sudden stroke 

 that removed my brother made every preceding 

 trial appear as nothing ; and she lived to render 

 praise for the slow yet glorious translation of the 

 dumb boy into the eternity after which he panted. 

 He retained the fondest recollection of her; and, 

 when dying, requested me to fix a little sketch of 

 her likeness where he could constantly behold it — 

 saying in his broken language, 'Jack die young: 

 good Hannah More very old, soon come to Jesus 

 Christ in heaven.' Yes I trust indeed that they 

 were all branches, living branches of the True 

 Vine. In one of them the father was glorified, by 

 her bearing much fruit, through a long succession 

 of plentiful years : another, according to his shorter 

 season, yielded many a cluster, precious in the sight 

 of the great Husbandman, who willed his early 

 transplantation into a better soil: and the third — 

 oh, he was taken from the wild vine, and grafted 

 into the tree, and had received of its fulness, and 

 began to put forth the delicate bud of promise — 

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