they are yet speaking I will hear," was verified, for in about twenty minutes she was relieved, and called on all present to bless the Lord for his goodness; for the darkness was passing away and God was again lifting upon her soul the light of his countenance. "Bless the Lord, O my soul." She said, "she could not describe the agony of her mind during that time; it seemed as if the powers of darkness were let loose upon her, and she had experienced the torments of hell." After returning thanks to God for his mercy and goodness in this trying time, all was peace and serenity. The sun of righteousness shone again upon her soul with increasing splendour, and she was enabled to rejoice in Christ as the Captain of her salvation.

Being exhausted, and after a few minutes rest, she was wonderfully strengthened to address every person in the house, (12 in number) down to the servants, appropriately, distinctly, and with ber full strength of mind; and as they stood weeping round her bed, listening with eagerness to catch every word that dropt from her lips, she took each one by the hand and blessed them, and bid them an affectionate farewell. After addressing her father in the most affectionate manner, she said, "may your last days be your best days; may God bless you and be gracious unto you, and lift upon you the light of his countenance and give you peace. Thoughtless sinners she exhorted to repentance, and faith in Christ, and recommended the Saviour to them in the most endearing manner,-" you see," she said, "how the Saviour, religion, and grace, of which you think so lightly, support me in a dying hour; what should I do now without Christ? O I beseech you make Christ your friend now while in health, if you wish to die in peace as I do.' Professors of religion she exhorted to greater diligence and activity in the divine life, and to closer walk with God.

In the close of her address to her husband, she said, "devote the remainder of your days to the service of your Saviour, and let your light shine and glorify God. Be active and industrious in the cause of Christ; remember time is short-soon you will follow me-what your hands find to do, do it with all your might; put your trust in your covenant God; cast all your care upon him; he will never leave nor forsake you-live near to him, I have not ceased to pray for you, that his grace may be sufficient for you, and that you may be supported under the trial of parting with me: but grieve not for me; you know my change will be a happy one-and Ō take care of the dear children; but them I leave to God—I commend them to his gracious care-I know he will take care of them."

A female relative whom she knew had been for many years weak in faith, and full of doubts and fears, she in the tenderest manner endeavoured to encourage, and said, "let the goodness of God to me encourage you to put your trust in Him who has promised never to leave nor forsake his people; He who has begun the good work in your heart will carry it on. Doubt no more, but press forward in the Christian race, and let your light shine and glorify God." Her friend said, "I am much indebted to you;" she replied with empha

sis," indebted to me! No-to God; don't say to me-I am but a worm, give God the praise and the glory."

After a pause of a few minutes, she said, "now Lord lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation ; O precious salvation-precious salvation! Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly." After a few minutes composure, she turned her head and looked at her husband, and with a smile said, ' now I am waiting for my full discharge." Wiping the sweat from her forehead she remarked, "this is the cold sweat of death." She then requested not to be disturbed, and was silent and composed for an hour and a half, though her lips were observed to move in prayer. About twenty minutes before the spirit took its flight, her husband asked her if all was peace, and if she still enjoyed clear views of her interest in Christ? She answered distinctly, "yes, all is peace. Peace :

Peace. Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly-Lord Jesus receive my spirit." These were her last words. She then, without a struggle or groan, and with a placid countenance, fell asleep in Jesus at five o'clock, A. M., September 5th, 1822, in the thirty-second year of her age.

"Fainter her breath, and fainter, grew,

Until she breathed her last;
The soul was gone before we knew
The stroke of death was past.

Soft was the moment, and serene,
That all her sufferings closed:
No agony or struggle seen,
No feature discomposed.

The parting struggle all was mine:

Tis the survivor dies :'

For she was freed and gone to join

The triumph of the skies."

May her dying admonitions be recollected and improved by all who heard them, and be sanctified to their eternal benefit.

From the above narrative we learn the following important conclusions :

1. That a law work-bringing home to the heart and conscience, the curses of a broken covenant, is not an indispensable or essential evidence of a sinner's conversion unto God. The Law never yet has been instrumental in subduing one rebel against God's government, or reclaiming one apostate from his truth. Its sole and appropriate province is that of a schoolmaster to lead us to Christ. Terror at God's judgments-extraordinary displays of these judgments-miracles wrought to support the divine mission of any of God's messengers-nay the rising of one from the dead-all combined, cannot affect "the heart of stone," so as to produce a radical change from sin unto holiness. It is not in the tempest-the great and strong wind, rending the mountains and breaking in pieces the rocks before the Lord-not in the earthquake or the fire-but in the still small voice VOL. IX.

90

of God-the voice of his tender mercy, that the Lord makes himself known for the regeneration and sanctification of sinful men. The thunderings and lightnings of Sinai may affright and produce a servile fear; but the exhortations from Zion, through the power of the Holy Spirit, can alone create a filial fear, and make of a rebel and apostate, e renewed child.

2. The essential characteristic of a renewed child is humility in his religious standing. Augustine, a celebrated Father of the primitive church, being asked what he considered to be the first grace of a Christian, replied, humility-what the second, humility-what the third, humility-and closed with saying, that this is as the whole of Christian character. He was right. Spiritual pride is as condemnable-nay more so than every other kind of pride. The pharisee who boasted that he was not as other men, nor even as the publican who cried "God be merciful to me a sinner," was rejected, whilst his companion was justified. Humility, the offspring of grace, whilst it recognizes the rights of divine sovereignty as absolute, makes the believer feel his own impotence, as well as unworthiness and hell desert; and influences him to pray for full and free pardon, acknowledging this pardon to be dispensed in a sovereign manner, so that special faith has no right to claim the fulfilment of any promise apart from the rights of divine sovereignty. It is a spiritual presumption which leads to a contrary conclusion, and not saving faith. Special faith cannot, in the economy of redemption, produce its desires apart from the rights of divine sovereignty, at any time when it is exercised. "Let God be true and every man a liar.”

3. A regenerated sinner is always anxious for the benefit and salvation of others. The spirit of the Gospel is benevolent and disinterested. "Whether we live, is its language, we live unto the Lord, or whether we die, we die unto the Lord-whether we live, therefore, or die, we are the Lord's." The different relations of life will be improved, and the duties connected with them will be performed, so that God's glory will be promoted with the best interests of society.

4. Urbanity of temper-cheerfulness of spirit-a social dispositionall are the fruit of regeneration. Religion does not destroy our social nature or our social habits. Religion itself is social, and is calculated to produce its beneficial effects upon our social nature, making it the source of real enjoyment and blessedness. To this we cannot pay too much attention; for upon this fact depends the whole of the exertion made by the Christian world, to civilize the heathen world. Take away the social nature of Christianity, and you destroy its claims upon missionary efforts to civilize the heathen world.

5. The power of religion in supporting the believer under the most harrassing spirits and annoying circumstances in which he or she can be placed, in the conflict with death, not only solaces in life, but it strengthens in the hour of death, and gives the final victory over the last destroyer. "The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the Law but thanks be unto God who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."

For the Christian Herald.

JUDAH'S LOSS.

How oft, when musing on the changeful past,
Does busy recollection call to mind,

A thousand bright, and pleasing, airy forms,
Which sport us as they flit along, like scenes.
Which fancy opens in the midnight dream.
How oft do we recall the countless joys
Of early years, made doubly sweet by those,
Whose names are graven deeply on our hearts,
But who themselves sleep low and silently.
Last time we heard the converse of our friends.
In the sad parting hour, who can forget?
Who would forget, though recollection be

A pang.

More serious than all others; when the soul
Looks fearfully upon that dark abyss,
O'er which so soon she is to wing her way,
And in that tim'rous, peerless flight, to seek
Her last abode.

The death-bed is a pulpit,
From which we all must preach. Oft has it spoke
Its terrors to the stoutest hearts. It speaks;
Nor speaks it aught but truth. 'Twould ill beseem
Hypocrisy to lurk in such a place.

The death-bed is an inn, where all must lodge.
Though long and wearisome may be our way,
Our journey here must end.

*

*

Once in a dreamy vision of the night

I thought I stood beside the bed of death.
And he who lay thereon, was much beloved.
He had dispensed the messages of grace
To guilty men, pointing the wayward soul
To heaven. He lived a blameless life-a life
Of piety, devoted to the cause

Of his beloved Master-heeded not

The voice of bitter scorn-regarded not

The frowns and mockings of a scowling world.
He sought to know his duty, and when known,
His duty to perform. He deeply felt
For hapless millions of our guilty race,
Who, in unbroken ranks, from Judah's lands
Are rushing to the world of wo. How calm
That day to him, above all other days!
The sun had sunk just to the verge of even,
And still was shedding on the verdant fields,
His mellow lustre. Short had been his course,
Athwart the heavens-emblem of his, who now
Cast his last look upon his setting beams.

His pilgrimage on earth was short, and wearisome
His sojourn in this vale of woes and tears.
Painful it is to leave our native land,

Place of our birth, to sunder, from our hearts,
Those silken chords, which bind us to our homes,
And bid our country and our friends beloved,
Farewell for ever. Yet he had left his friends,
And home, and all that's dear, to seek a land
Of strangers-a far-famed city, which once

Was Judah's boast; where oft the choral hymns
Of morn and evening sacrifice had rung
From sweetest harps, by Zion's daughters swept.
He climbed the rugged steep of Calvary,
And where was hung the ransom of a world,
He wide unfurled the banner of the Cross.
He took the Gospel trumpet, and there blew
A blast not long, nor loud. Mount Zion heard.
Although not long, nor loud, the joyful sound
Pealed o'er the gladdened hills of Palestine,
And Judah's daughter, by the dark, blue wave
Of Babel's river, caught the enrapturing note,
And snatched her harp from off the willow's branch
She ceased to weep when she remembered Zion.
She sang a sweeter song than ever rung
From angels' harp, or Seraphs' golden lyre.

The waves conveyed the sound, the enchanting sound
To Babel's lonely, mouldering towers. The owl,
That hooted there, quick ceased her hollow wail;
The famished jackal turned to hear the strain;
The tumbling ruins, and far distant hills
Re-echoed back the praise. "

* * * 'Tis the third watch of night.
All now is still-the midnight anthem hushed,
The Nile rolled dark and heavy on that night,
And Alexandria seemed involved in gloom.
Naught could be heard, except the whizzing bat,
And the hoarse watch-cry of the Turkish soldier.
Though all was dark without, there was a place,
Bright with celestial glory. Twas the verge
Of heaven. The chamber of the dying saint,
The martyr of the Cross-how calm-serene!
How swift and solemn was that passing hour!
Fast by his side his sole companion sat:

He who had been companion of his toils,

How sweet their minutes rolled. Oft they looked back, Upon the past with pure delight-and up

With joy, to the great Fount of Love-the Source

Of all their blessings, and with humble hearts,

And holy gratitude, for every boon,

Gave thanks. How arduous, how rich, how short
Had been his labours, o'er whose peaceful couch,
In tearful sorrow bis associate bent.

Zion rejoiced, and Judah was made glad,
By the high joyful embassy he bore,
From Judah's king to long lost Israel.
Now was his mission ended, and the time,
Of his departure, was at hand; for heaven

Sent the summons-his sovereign called him home
Pale grew his cheek, and icy was his arm.
They talked of parting soon. Oh! it was hard
To part. Around their hearts a thousand chords

Of tenderest love were interwoven.

Long time had they been more than bosom friends.
Lone brothers were they in a stranger's land.
'Twas hard to part. They talked of meeting soon
Upon that shore, where love eternal reigns;

And where is wiped the mourner's tear; and hushed
The sufferer's sigh; where weary pilgrims rest,
And where the prisoner is at peace. Oh! yes;

They talked of meeting soon. 'Twas then their souls,
By one extatic impulse, seemed borne away,