worship, she wished us to sing a hymn. The closing verse of it was, "Thine earthly sabbath's, Lord, we love, But there's a nobler rest above; She repeated this verse very often, and commented on it in a very affecting manner, so that all present were in tears. "This," said she, "is my experience: I do long for the eternal sabbath, With ardent pangs of strong desire.'” Jan. 6. "Though," said she, "I am not improperly weary of the world, having found in it much friendship and much mercy, yet death appears to me very inviting. I want to hear the melody of the heavenly host. When will the moment arrive, when I shall leave this clay tabernacle, and join their happy society?" Jan. 10. "I have done with all below. Why, my dear, do you not pray for my dismission?" was her language to-day. I told her, that I did not know how to do this; but that I did resign her to the divine will. "Perhaps," said she, "I do wrong in making the request: not my will, but thine, O Lord, be done! I thought that the pain I have suffered to-day would have been sufficient to separate my spirit from its shattered tenement, and to land it in glory. I am so weak, that I cannot pray as I used to do: I can only now and then utter a short sentence or two, and ask my heavenly Father to have mercy on me, and fit me for 'the inheritance of the saints in light."" Jan. 11. Her days and nights were now full of pain: her appetite almost entirely failed her, and she grew in every respect visibly worse. As I was watching her with much anxiety, I thought she fell into a sweet slumber: sleep was the blessing she needed. I therefore carefully hushed every sound which might disturb her repose. At the moment I imagined her most insensible to all around her, she opened her eyes, and elevating them to heaven, exclaimed: "Lord Jesus, into thine hands I commend my spirit! Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly!" She was proceeding in the same animated strain, when I gently interrupted her, and asked her if she would have any thing. "Nothing but eternal bliss!" was her memorable reply; reminding me of the excellent Melancthon, who, in similar circumstances, and in answer to a similar enquiry, said: "Nothing else beside heaven!" Jan. 13. Till to-day, she had been carried up and down stairs; but to-day she was in so, much pain, and so exceedingly weak, that I could not prevail on her to leave her bed. She was evidently sensible of her approaching dissolution. Indeed, she said to me, "I am going to leave you; but I am not afraid to die: the kingdom of heaven is my portion. The Lord Jesus has promised to receive me. I love him; and I never heard of any one who loved him, whom he cast into hell." She was very restless in the night: she was frequently in prayer, and she often said: "I am going to my rest. Lord Jesus, receive my spirit! Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly!" About seven o'clock on the morning of the 14th, she said to me: "I am indeed going to my rest." As she saw me exceedingly affected, she grasped my hand, and in a firm tone of voice, and with an emphasis I shall never forget, exclaimed: "My mind is happy!" and in a few moments, with the utmost serenity, "fell asleep in Jesus!" Reader! be concerned to live the life, and thou shalt die the death of the righteous. CHAP. XVI. POOR George was now committed to the silent tomb. Though it is confessedly difficult to determine whether a death-bed penitence be sincere or not, yet there was something very consolatory in the departure of Mr. Blunt. The hope with which it inspired the bosom of his mother, made her wipe away her tears. Mr. H. was now again returned to his dear boy, and to his accustomed duties. They had conversed at large on the painful subject which, for the last few weeks, had occupied their attention. They were now walking together in the shrubbery. Examining a tree minutely, which bore a favourite apple, Mr. H. could not find what he was searching after-fruit. "So it is," said Mr. H. "with the vineyard of God. He comes into it seeking, not leaves, but fruit the fruits of righteousness, which are by Christ Jesus to the praise and glory of God.. Every branch,' says the Saviour, 'that beareth not fruit, he taketh away; and every branch. that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit. Herein is our heavenly Father glorified, that we bear much fruit; so shall we indeed be his disciples."" "Have you observed the hop-poles, papa?” said Edwin. "Not particularly, my dear. When I noticed them last, they were covered with multitudes of little insects." "There are no hops, papa." "I did not expect there would be many: those insignificant creatures, when God gives them a commission to destroy, are no mean adversaries. Thus, the locusts came up, and devoured every green thing in the land of Egypt. God has many arrows in his quiver: the smallest insects, no less than the highest intelligences around his throne, accomplish the purposes of his will, and show forth his praise. It is our favourite poet who remarks: What is his creation less, Than a capacious reservoir of means, Form'd for his use, and ready at his will?"" "The waters of the Nile too became blood, papa." "Yes: all the plagues of Egypt were so many strokes of the Almighty against their |