374 John Bachman. 



Man's Only Refuge. 



Infirm, desponding and dismayed, 



My faith cast down, my hope grown dim, 

 I seek for light ; but human aid 



Can shed no light on doubts within. 

 Around my path dark shadows fall, 



And gloomy visions crowd my way, 

 While clouds, like a funereal pall, 



Obscure the cheerful light of day. 



When foes invade, and dread alarms 



Are pressing sore on ev'ry side, 

 E'en life has nearly lost its charms 



As war rolls on its crimson tide. 

 Where shall I flee ? To whom apply 



Or look for help ? To God alone ! 

 For He will hear my humble cry, 



And raise me to His heav'nly throne. 



God's promises were freely giv'u 



To me, as to the saints of old, 

 Then, why should I by doubts be driv'n, 



Or let my faith and hope grow cold ? 

 Oh teach me, Lord, to watch and pray 



For light and comfort from above; 

 To ask for faith's illuming ray, 



To fill me with a Saviour's love. 



This can alone the gloom dispel, 



Which darkens life at this sad hour, 

 And break the with'ring dreary spell, 



Which bends me down with magic pow'r. 

 In ecstacy of faith and love, 



All gloom and doubt shall flee away, 

 And angels welcome me above 



To realms of everlasting day. M. B. 



The day after Christmas, Sunday, Dr. Bachman 

 was expected to preach in Columbia, at Ebenezer 

 Church. 



Soon after the dawn of day, he summoned a 

 daughter to his chamber, saying her mother had 

 been ill during the night. Without disturbing the 



