kind. He is gracious. Free grace! We cannot conceive what he hath prepared for them that love him." Reminded of God as the portion of his people, she said, "Yes, their portion; their portion for ever, for ever and ever! Thank you! thank you for bringing these things to my remembrance. Yes, he will be our portion for ever and ever."

When sitting at the window in a state of great weakness, looking at the beautiful appearance of nature, she adverted to Rousseau*, who desired to be lifted up when dying that he might once more behold the sun which had so often delighted him: a friend remarked to her, that Rousseau had no firm belief of a future inheritance, and might well leave this with regret; she replied, "Yes; but we have a better hope-a better hope.'

Again she said, "I have a humble hope in his mercy, and this is enough; a poor, helpless, sinful creature! I do not deserve the assurance of hope, the joy which is given to many; I have been a rebellious creature! I have a humble hope in his mercy : I will be content with this."

It pleased the Lord, however, to go beyond her expectation, to revive her faith, and to afford her a happy degree of confidence and joy. After spending a restless, painful night, dark to nature, but divinely illumined by the cheering influence of the blessed gospel; she said to one of her sisters, and with the sweetest complacency of countenance and manner, "I shall sleep in Jesus! They that sleep in Jesus will God bring with him." "I shall rise with him;" lifting up her feeble hand three times as she uttered the words, "I shall rise with him; rise with him at the resurrection of the just! I triumph in Christ. Praise him, praise.

Once, and I think only once, toward the close of

* An infidel philosopher...

her illness, she expressed a fear lest she had rested on a false foundation, and was deceiving herself. One said to her, "You trust in Christ:" she replied, "I hope I do." Her friend added, My salvation is rested on him: I dare trust him:" she answered with readiness, and with the most affectionate confidence," And I dare; I dare TRUST HIM."

The servant was not forgotten in these weeks of affliction. She was reminded of the value of her soul; was admonished, with tender concern, to remember her Creator in the days of her youth, and to prepare for death and eternity.

Never shall I forget the interesting scene which is past; never will the family forget it. Passing immediately under our observation, it has deeply impressed the mind, nor can the impression be effaced. God grant that the bereavement, with all its instructive circumstances, may be greatly blessed to surviving relatives and friends! May each member of this church*, and of the congregation, be enabled to improve the event, and to derive important benefit from what has now been advanced! You see the abasing views which our sister had of herself. You perceive the exalted sentiments she had of Christ. was her refuge, her rest, her all!

In him

Could you, my dear hearers, have seen her listening with eager delight to the promises of the blessed gospel, her eye fixed with inost affectionate interest, her spirit drinking at the overflowing Fountain of eternal truth, amidst the faintings of dying nature, you must have been affected! Could you have heard her pale lips utter the word, Happy! Happy!" amidst the distressing convulsions of her dissolving frame, you must have been convinced of the reality and worth of religious principle; you must have

*The deceased had been a member of the Independent Church at Cleck-Eaton about three years: she departed this life, June 27, 1813.

admired the grace of the Redeemer, so conspicuous in the season of deepest trial. And surely, in the prospect of your own dissolution, you must have earnestly desired the same hope, the same support and consolation.

But I forbear. The hour is fast approaching from which none can escape; the solemn hour of death! Are you prepared to meet it? Christ is "able to save," but do you feel your need of salvation? Are you coming to Him, and receiving salvation from Him? O that this may be the happy experience of each, in health, in affliction, and in death!

LINES

ADDRESSED

TO THE SPIRIT OF A DEPARTED SISTER.

IF e'er departed spirit conscious glanc'd
One look on earth, or near its orb advanc'd;
And light as air-as air unseen has mov'd,
Still ling'ring near the friends on earth belov❜d-
Thou pure Intelligence, so lately fled,

So lov'd in life, so deeply mourn'd when dead;
Unfold thy pinions on the hills of light,
And wing thy downward way to earth and night.

Sister and friend! a mourner's call obey:
Forego the songs of angels-come away.
O! come, and listen to that faithful voice
Which cheer'd thy soul in death!——

Rest in impenetrable shadows deep

Thy groans, which pierc'd my heart, disturb'd my sleep:

* The reader will perceive the connection between these lines and the preceding discourse: they were written by a Sister of the deceased on the same mournful occasion.

And ever as the morning light arose
Chased from my bosom feelings of repose.
No more, dear patient sufferer, shall a groan
Or heave thy bosom or disturb my own.
These tears by painful recollection mov❜d,
Witness how much I priz'd-how much I lov'd.
Though painful was the task, and hard to part,
I tried to veil thine image from my heart:
This heart no longer able to endure,
Sad recollections time alone can cure.
Endear'd by all thy patience-all thy pain-
Kindness and gentleness-the effort's vain.
We look around-thy form no more we see,
But memory raises forms in vacancy;
Thy person and thy manner brings to mind-
Thy look benevolent-thy will resign'd-
Thy heart with tender gratitude oppress'd,
Now glist'ning in thine eye-now half express'd-
Now rising high to God-then would it fall
In tributary thanks-on me-on all.

3

What kind solicitude my spirit mov'd When fondly bending o'er the form I lov'd, Or kneeling by thy pillow, gently tried, With sighs suppress'd, to speak of Him who died: With sad emotions struggling in my breast, Have sung, and smiled; and sooth'd thy soul to rest Have chased the tears which oft unbid would flow, While fault'ring accents ill conceal'd my woe. O! 'twas a hard deception-no a breath, A sigh, a tear, disturb'd thy soul in death..