thoughts that disturb my mind." I once asked her

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Seeing you have nothing of your own good enough to depend on for acceptance before a holy God, what is the ground of your hope?" She with much earnestness replied "To whom can I go but to my blessed Saviour? He only has the words of eternal life." On her removal to the house of her children, a few weeks before her decease, that she might have the comfort of their affectionate attentions, I enjoyed many opportunities of witnessing the progress of her soul towards heaven. Her excruciating disease was then rapidly gaining ground. Till that period, her mind was often distressed by spiritual darkness, disturbed by fears and doubts, and molested by temptation. She may be truly said to have sown the precious seed of life in many tears; but, now she is reaping the full harvest in an exceeding and eternal weight of glory. But, "Who is among you that feareth the Lord; that obeyeth the voice of his servant; that walketh in darkness, and hath no light? Let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God." Her ultimate triumph over doubt and fear, holds out encouragement to mourners in Zion.

When I expressed my grief at seeing her suffer so keenly, she observed-"Yes; but ten times my sufferings would do nothing towards blotting out my sins. That can be done only by the sufferings of Christ,"

She repeatedly disavowed all hope of pardon from any thing she ever did or suffered; and never was deluded by the too prevailing error of supposing, that severe temporal afflictions, either mental or bodily, constitute a kind of semi-atonement for transgression. "I hope that all my sufferings will be in this life," is the ambiguous sentiment uttered by many, who betray a lamentable ignorance of the end and exclusive virtue. of the Saviour's "meritorious cross and passion, whereby alone we obtain remission of our sins, and are made partakers of the kingdom of heaven." Elizabeth R longed ardently for "the rest which remaineth for the people of God." "Is it," said I, "your excessive bodily pain, that makes you so long for heaven?" "No," she replied, "for though it would be a great mercy to be delivered from that pain, I chiefly wish to reach that blessed place, because I then shall be freed from the evils of my wicked heart." What seems to you most desirable in heaven?" "The sight of my blessed Saviour."

Deeply sensible as she was of her unworthiness, and long as she had previously walked under a cloud, sighing for the light of peace, she now had no dread of death. How great is God's mercy to you," I said, that you do not fear to die. You know that death has a sting, and that sting is sin; and the strength of sin is the law, which shews us our guilt.” "Yes,"

was her answer, "but thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ." It was her great grief, that her severe pains hindered her in prayer and meditation. She would say, "I long to see my Saviour, that I may serve him without sin, and without interruption." Her patient resignation was striking. "My pains are very great," she said; "but not my will, O Lord, but thine be done."

I offered to administer to her the Holy Sacrament— an offer which I never make to sick and dying persons, unless they evince an enlightened understanding of the nature of the ordinance, and are anxious to partake of it simply in affectionate and grateful remembrance of the Saviour's death, and as a means of grace and comfort, but not as a quietus to the conscience, or a passport to heaven. She manifested great thankfulness for my offer, adding, "I always loved to receive it. It lifted my heart to heaven, and I deeply grieved if ever my infirmities would not let me go to the Lord's table. It seemed like turning my back upon the command of my Saviour." At her desire, and a most interesting scene it was, to see her four children kneeling around their dying mother; her two sons, and two daughters, participated with us in the sacred feast: she sweetly remarking in the words of our Lord-I shall take it no more with them till we together drink it new in the kingdom of my Father."

Her anguish of body was inconceivably great. "But," she was wont to say, "I trust the Lord will never leave me-never forsake me. He has brought me through many troubles, he will bring me through this." Though she did not fear death itself, yet her nature sometimes shrunk back from the pains of it. I remarked-"Even for these you will soon praise God; for the pains of temporal death will render the change from earth to heaven the more glorious." This comforted her, and she rejoiced, that Jesus had died to deliver her from the bitter pains of eternal death. The eye of her faith becoming still clearer as death drew nigh, was frequently fixed upon the River of Life, which is mentioned in the apocalyptic description of heaven. "Oh! that I could drink of that living water," she cried, "then I should be well. I long to drink of that river of the water of life. It seems as if I saw it flowing before me."

Whatever she might be called to endure, she felt confident that the promises' of the gospel were enough to support her. "I had rather," she said, "suffer ten times more than all this, than be separated from my Saviour. In the midst of my most violent agonies, the words of Job are ever in my mind; Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him."" On one occasion, when I inquired how she was, she answered “Sir, I cannot find one part of my body free from pain." "But the

time is short--you soon will be where there shall be no more pain." "I hope so.. Indeed I can say, I have no fears, no doubts left." "Do you now enjoy more than usual comfort and peace?" "Yes, sir, I do. I have always felt myself a most wretched sinner. I never could pray as I wished, nor serve the Lord as I ought. This was my constant grief. This daily filled me with mourning. But for many years it has been my prayer, that, before I died, I might be enabled to rejoice in God my Saviour; and, now, blessed be his name, I do rejoice. My fears are gone. No doubts are left." During another visit I paid to her chamber, she said to me, "I desire to be within the gate of heaven. But I hope the Lord will give me patience for all I have first to go through." "When you do get within that bright gate, what of all you there shall see will most delight you?" "There will be every thing to delight me; but, especially, I shall rejoice to see"-and her tears flowed fast as she spoke, "I shall rejoice to see my Saviour-his wounded side-his pierced hands-his head which was torn by the thorns-and all for me!"

On one other occasion she again complained of her sinfulness and unworthiness. I quoted the words of Isaiah, "Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money,