complete his allotment of time upon earth, and soon that poor heart which had fluttered and beat would cease for

ever.

About a week before his death, when a pious friend was congratulating him that he had made religion his choice in early life; and referring to that moment when his captive soul should find itself disencumbered of its mortality and soaring on seraph's wing,

Along the blue and boundless sky,

to the bosom of its God, he said, in reply, "What should I do, what could I do, if I had my religion to seek now ?" Prayer having again been offered up for him that he might have a triumphant victory, his hearty responses left no doubt upon the minds of all present, but that such was likely to be the issue of this strife for immortality. After rising from our knees, our dear brother desired all present to sing for him

And when to that bright world I rise,
And join the anthems of the skies;
Above the rest this note shall swell,
My Jesus hath done all things well.

It was a soul-subduing time-a moving scene; all present appeared to be totally overcome, thoroughly unmanned, save and except the exulting subject of this memoir; who having Christ formed within him "the hope of glory," could look corruption in its ghastly face, as by faith he viewed his future home-a cloudless Sabbath-a blissful immortality. The singing of the above most appropriate verse was solemnly affecting; it moved every heart, it struck a chord in the heart of one that was soon to vibrate in the realms of a glorious eternity. The devotions of that night were indeed awfully sacred and impressive. A stream of glory was let down upon that consecrated hour, and all felt as if they were already on the threshold of the skies.

His sufferings were now drawing rapidly to a close; but his confidence in the efficacy of the Atonement never forsook him. On one occasion a friend reminded our sainted brother of the words, "Hold fast the beginning of your confidence, which hath great recompense of reward." But it was almost a needless suggestion; he appeared to anticipate the victory. He was on the "Rock of Ages," the Rock Christ Jesus, the Rock cleft for sinners. Here he felt himself to be safe; he had no misgivings, no doubts, all was calmness, resignation, and strong confidence.

The Friday before our dear brother ex

changed mortality for endless life, when several friends being present, he desired them to pray. Never will the writer of this memoir forget that time. Amongst the friends then present was our esteemed friend Mr. E. Tiffany, who, after having read the ninety-first Psalm, engaged in prayer on behalf of his fellow classmate. On this memorable occasion our dear brother Baldwin frequently responded "Glory, glory, glory ;" and upon our rising, Mr. Tiffany proposed that we should sing

There we shall see his face, &c.

Here again, as previously, our brother Baldwin requested that he might hear another favourite air of his, called "Sarab," which was acceded to; and when we had arrived at the line

And never, never sin,

all his energies seemed kindled afresh at the thought of such perfection, and for some time he might be heard exclaiming, "Never sin; never, never, never sin." Soon after, Mr. T. shook hands with him, and took his last leave of our departed friend until the morning of final redemption. It was a most affecting sight. When Mr. T. was bidding him farewell, he said, "John, I hope I shall see you in glory -meet you in heaven." "I hope we shall meet there," replied the dying saint; "I hope we shall all meet there." He stretched out his poor emaciated hand to grasp the one of his friend, but soon sank back on his pillow, bedewing it with tears, which were soon to be wiped for ever away, feebly exclaiming, "Meet in heaven! meet in heaven!" It was indeed to be the last time these friends should see each other in the flesh, for the last foe was approaching. He was destined soon to wave the palm to conquerors given. He was soon to gaze upon Him in whom he had believed. He was soon to be employed in antheming the praises of Him who is "mighty to save," and to shout

by turns the bursting joy,
And all eternity employ
In songs around the throne.

On Saturday, May 15th, the day before our dear brother departed this life, when visited by a friend, he was asked respecting his confidence in the Redeemer, whether it was still reposing on his merits. "Oh, yes," he replied, “Jesus is all my hope; his blood is all my plea." He afterwards appeared to be much exhausted. It was evident to all that his end was fast approaching. Two of his most intimate friends and class-mates

sat up with him on the evening of Saturday awaiting his dissolution. They engaged alternately in acts of devotion, assisting to the utmost of their ability their dying companion in his mortal combat. At three o'clock on the morning of the Sabbath following the struggle had commenced. Feeling that his hour had arrived, he called his two friends to approach him, when he remarked, "I am dying." And what a death! Who shall describe it ? Oh, beautiful beyond depicting words To paint the hour that wafts a soul to heaven! * * * 'tis an hour of awe, Yet terrorless when revelations flow From faith immortal.

At twenty minutes past six our sainted brother entered the valley, accompanied by the Angel of the Covenant, with a triumphant shout. Calling upon one of his companions, our dear and sainted brother requested that he would hold up his dying arm and wave it for him, as a token of complete victory. While this glorious and solemn act was transpiring, he summoned all his dying energies, and catching a smile from the Saviour, he made that hallowed chamber ring with "Victory, victory, through the blood of the Lamb!" These were his last words. He lay for a moment or two, and the victory was complete. The dying hour of our sainted brother did indeed redound to the cause of religion, the triumphs of the cross, and to the glory of God. It made a deep and it is to be hoped a lasting impression on the minds of those who witnessed it; and already its sanctifying effect has been visible. It has led to the avowed determination of every member in the class from which he has been taken, by the assistance of God's good Spirit, to consecrate with greater resolution than heretofore all their ransomed powers to the cause of the cross, and to live for God alone.

May such a victory be the lot of every member in it. Triumphant it was prayed that it might be, and triumphant it was. It was the epithalamium of a departing spirit, flinging away its vestments of mortality, antheming the triumphs of the cross over the ruins of the dust, and then soaring aloft on seraph's wing, to mingle with the diadem'd from out of every clime, who, having washed their robes in the blood of the Lamb, adore, with harp in hand, the first, the last, the living God. On the Wednesday following the remains of our dear brother were consigned to the

MARY PURSHOUSE, SHEFFIELD.

IT affords sincere pleasure to the serious and reflecting mind to review the lives and characters of those followers of the Saviour who "through faith and patience now inherit the promises." Especially so when we have been familiar with them, and have seen their walk from day to day. During their sojourn in the present state they battled with storm and tempest, with affliction and trial, as we do now; yet Divine grace sustained in trial, comforted in affliction, enabled them to "witness a good confession," and now their work is done, their sorrows o'er, they have entered into rest, and "their works do follow them."

Mary Purshouse, the subject of the present memoir, was born in Little Sheffield, in the neighbourhood of our Southstreet chapel, Sept. 17th, 1820. Her parents were the type of a large class that are to be met with in the large towns of this country. They were honest and industrious, and were anxious to bring up their children to habits of industry. This being done, they supposed the most important duties devolving upon them as parents were accomplished. But although strangers to experimental religion, they had no objection to their children having the advantages which the Sunday-school proposed to confer upon them. Hence, the first Sabbath in June, in the year 1832, the day on which our Sabbath-school was open for the reception of children, theirs were among the number who presented themselves for admission. Mary was one of the one hundred and forty-seven entered upon the register the first day. It is an affecting thought that not one of that number now remain with us. Some may be found in the far-western states of America, others in distant towns. Some, again, are still in the neighbourhood, but have no connexion with us as a Christian Church; while not a few rest beneath the burial sod. Mary Purshouse is the last of that number consigned to

mother-earth, until the arrival of that great day when it shall be said, "Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment."

There was nothing remarkable in the early history of our departed sister to distinguish her from others of her fellowscholars, save that she was of a quiet and even temper of mind, and gave indications that the truths she listened to were not altogether without effect upon her youthful mind. Having been a scholar for some time, becoming of an age when it was proper her future course should be indicated by some suitable employment being provided for her, she became nursemaid in a highly respectable family; a situation for which she was well fitted, and in which she gave the greatest satisfaction, being highly esteemed to the day of her death, not only by the heads of the family but also by the children, to whom she had become endeared by her uniform kind and gentle manner toward them. Her opportunities for attending the school at this time were, however, greatly abridged; yet she improved what she had. Having conceived an attachment to it from the kindness she had ever experienced from the teachers, she could have no greater pleasure than to mingle with them, especially upon those holidays in which they were accustomed to hold their tea meetings. She had not, however, up to this time, become a member of the Church, nor does it appear she realized the blessing of salvation. Her position had been such as to prevent her meeting in class, had she been so disposed; but in the year 1842 Providence opened her way to a closer connexion with the Church. She had creditably filled for a series of years her situation, which recommended her to another then vacant in another branch of the same family. Conjointly with this occurrence, a num"ber of the teachers and others had felt how difficult it was to invite children to join the Church when they themselves were not members. They therefore formed themselves into a class, and requested a leader should be appointed to them. The first quarter we met sister Purshouse joined us, and met for the first time on the 10th of August, 1842. The occasional opportunities she had of attending the means of grace had tended greatly to the enlightenment of her mind, but she had not as yet a clear sense of the Divine favour, but was urged to seek it as the undoubted privilege of believers. In a few weeks, on one of those occasions when we are accustomed to meet together for the relation of Christian ex

perience, she was enabled to "rejoice in hope of the glory of God." This blessing had been imparted to her while attending the ordinance of the Lord's Supper, to which she was ever after most ardently attached. From this time she became

The

a new creature in Christ Jesus." means of grace were to her as "wells of salvation; and her anxiety for those parts of her family remaining unconverted was such that, in our monthly prayer-meeting, the fervent, impassioned, and tender strains in which she would besiege the throne of grace were such as will long be remembered by all the surviving members of the class.

The sacrifices she made in order to be present at the means of grace were such as to put to shame many who are more favourably circumstanced. And, when unable to attend, she would employ the time at her command in writing down the state and feeling of her mind on scraps of paper, which have since been found in her boxes. These will serve to show more clearly the state of her mind at different periods.

Under date Sept. 30, 1845, she writes: "I feel that I can raise my Ebenezer and say, Hitherto the Lord hath helped

me.

It is about three years since God for Christ's sake pardoned my sins and said, Arise, shine, for thy light is come, for the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee. Many have been the changes I have had to go through, yet I can praise him for all that is past, and trust him for all that is to come. He is all I need to make me happy in this world, and to prepare me for an eternal happiness in the world to come. For me to live is Christ, but to die would be my eternal gain; I have no other wish but to glorify my God below and find my way to heaven."

"Oct. 4th, 1846.-Another year has passed into eternity, and I thank God I feel as great a love to him as at my first setting out. I can say I have grown in grace, and in the knowledge and love of my Saviour. I feel I have Christ in me, the hope of glory. Yes, I would not part with the precious hope I have for all the world calls good and great. My earnest prayer is, that I may deeper sink in humility, and higher rise in heavenlymindedness and devotion to my God."

"Sept. 26th, 1847.-To-day at school I was enabled to speak to the children more freely-God grant that it may be made a blessing to their precious souls! I feel they lie near my heart; I take more delight than ever in this blessed work; the very name of the place seems

to animate and cheer me; I shall have to bless God through all eternity that ever I was admitted a scholar in Southstreet Sunday-school."

"March 5th, 1848.-I am thankful for a preached gospel. Oh that I may improve more than I have done! This hath been a happy day to my soul, and my desire is that I may be such a one as the Lord would have me. Oh that he would make me more useful in the Sabbath-school and to my own family! God grant that I may have the happiness to know that they are truly converted. Oh that they did but know."

Here the manuscript abruptly terminates, indicating the intensity of feeling she experienced, and that the emotions she felt would not permit her to finish the sentence.

These extracts might be multiplied, but these will suffice to show, what her intimate friends were already acquainted with, that her piety was not of that fitful character which marks the conduct of some young people, but that it was a constant, steady flame, eminently answering the description of the good man, as given by an inspired pen-"The path of the just is as the shining light, shining more and more unto the perfect day." If anything further were needed, the following extract will show the justness and propriety of this statement:

"I feel my dear heavenly Father is again reviving his work in me. How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts! Oh that the Lord would cleanse me from all impurity! I have a constant hungering and thirsting after righteousness."

And then, as though she had some premonition of those afflictions she had subsequently to endure, and of their termination, she writes,-"This is not my home.

I have a house above

Not made with mortal hands, And firm as my Redeemer's love The heavenly fabric stands." In the year 1849 her health became affected, and it was necessary that she should, for a time at least, enjoy that relaxation needed to recruit exhausted nature. It was at first hoped that a short time would suffice to fit her for resuming the duties of her station; but it soon became evident that the inroad which disease had made upon her system was not so soon to be repaired. A problem bad now to be solved: she had served God faithfully when well, but can she do it now sickness comes? Besides, added to her affliction there was this aggravation of it, the means she had accu

mulated by her provident habits began to fail she could not expect God would supply her wants as he did those of Elijah, by sending bread and flesh in the morning and bread and flesh in the evening.

But she was never known to falter or waver in her steadfastness; the Bible and the hymn-book became now her contant companions, and it might be said with the strictest propriety she had meat to eat the world knew not of. But though poor, she wanted not for such things as were necessary to make her comfortable. She had during her connexion with the Church been accustomed to take pleasure in supporting the cause of God according to her ability, and also, in special cases brought before the teachers, had ever been ready cheerfully to administer to the temporal wants of those in distress. She, therefore, was not likely to be forgotten. Her ordinary medical attendant had felt the difficulty of dealing with her, and her affliction had so much increased that it became necessary that she should submit to an operation; and for this purpose was admitted into the Sheffield General Infirmary. The operation was performed; the problem of which we spoke had now been solved; she could glorify God in suffering as she had done in active service. It would be a difficult thing to conceive one more patient in suffering and more fully resigned to the will of God. Those who visited her, and they were many, were constrained to acknowledge that an excellent spirit was in her. The nurses of the establishment, although sometimes angry at the number who used to come to visit her, were nevertheless affected by the Christian sympathy shown towards her, and the manner in which she received that sympathy. An incident occurred while in this house of mercy which will show how she had the cause of God at heart. Languishing upon her sick bed, she could yet read for a few minutes together; and the Rev. Mr. Waller's "Memoir" had just come to hand. had read some portion of this, when a fellow-sufferer on an adjoining bed began to cry for mercy to pardon her guilty soul. They prayed and wrestled until the poor woman stepped into the liberty of the sons of God. This strange circumstance caused no little excitement among the inmates of the ward, and it is to be hoped was not without its effects upon other than the one referred to.

She

All that medical skill could perform had been done, and now a change of air was recommended as the only thing which could complete what medical aid

was incapable of doing. For this purpose she visited some of our friends in the neighbourhood of Nottingham, and experienced temporary relief. The kindness of her friends oft refreshed her spirit, so that she returned considerably improved after an absence of about four months; but, as the sequel will show, the advantage was merely temporary. Her affliction began to increase in virulence, so that there now appeared no hope of recovery (if this had previously been entertained), yet now her experience was the same as formerly. "I have a desire to depart and be with Christ." "Not my will but thine be done." "It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good." These and similar expressions indicated a mind at peace with God through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Let it not be supposed that, although this was her uniform experience, she was altogether without trials; for, two months previous to her decease she was the subject of the greatest pain I ever remember to have witnessed. During this time she was unable to move herself in the least possible manner, so that she became thoroughly helpless. This was to her a great trial, as she had need of constant attention; but now she would say, "If I had my religion to seek now, my condition would be truly deplorable." And she would often repeat those hymns which ber afflictions had endeared to her, especially the one beginning

Jesus, lover of my soul,

Let me to thy bosom fly.

which, as well as some others, used to be sung by her class-mates as they stood by her bedside. Often we have felt, as we have closed our Sabbath services in her chamber, what Young so beautifully describes

The chamber where the good man meets his fate

Is privileged beyond the common walks Of virtue's life, quite on the verge of

heaven.

On one of these occasions we seemed as though the difference between earth and heaven was so slight that some of our number felt as though they would be glad to exchange places with her whose work was so near done.

We had imagined that her afflictions having been so protracted and severe, she would have gone to her rest "calın as a summer eve;" but in this we were disappointed. The day had come when she felt her end draw nigh; she had summoned to her bedside her aged father, whose wrinkled cheeks indicated he must soon go the way of all flesh, her sister and husband; and, after thanking them for the many kindnesses they had shown her, earnestly exhorted them to make preparation for another equally solemn meeting, and to seek God with all their hearts. She then bequeathed her dying love to those of her friends who were away, and now, as though prepared for the last conflict-her work done-she became unconscious, convulsions rapidly succeeded each other; with scarcely a single glimpse of returning consciousness, she struggled into life, July 31st, 1851.

Thus rapidly have we reviewed her history, which is remarkable for fidelity, constancy, humility, patience, meekness and love. Her remains were carried to the tomb on the following Sabbath-day by a number of her fellow-teachers, and attended by a great number of both teachers and scholars. There she rests in hope.

J. BUCK.

THE interesting period has again arrived when the messengers of our Churches have assembled in Conference to review the state of our beloved community, and transact the business for the year. This was the fifty-sixth annual Conference, and was held in Highstreet chapel, Huddersfield. The public services on the Sabbath were commenced by a prayer-meeting at six o'clock in the morning, May 30. At seven, a numerous congregation assembled in the chapel, and listened with profit to

a truly evangelical discourse on "The Gospel Treasure," from 2 Corinthians, 2nd chap. 7th verse, by the Rev. Simeon Woodhouse, of Nottingham. At halfpast ten o'clock, the chapel was filled to excess, when the Rev. William Mills, of Ashton, preached an excellent sermon on The Superiority of the Christian Dispensation," from Heb. 12th chap., 22nd verse. In the afternoon, the annual love-feast was held, presided over by the Revs. A. Lynn and H. O. Crofts, D.D., when the chapel was quite