of spirit?" The grave tells us the tale. As regards the child of earth, all closes when he has once entered there; "in that very day all his thoughts perish;" every thought, at least, that is apart from God. It may be brilliant it may be useful in its place it may even add to the world's comfort and prosperity: but when viewed in the light of heavenly things, is no more than glittering tinsel. It follows not the saint into the Celestial City; it has had its day, it has accomplished its uses in time, and the grave has shut her mouth on it for ever.

Such were the thoughts of this poor young sufferer, during the many solitary hours that she passed in her sick chamber alone with God, for, feeling this affliction was sent to her in mercy to teach her some lesson she had not yet learned, she requested that none might be admitted to see her except those who would speak to her of the things of God, as she wished to derive all the blessing and instruction which the Lord had in store for her. And now, those same friends of whom she had so lately felt afraid, lest they should tear from her every little lingering hold that she still had on earthly things, were the very friends she most desired to visit her, and she derived lasting comfort from communion with those who ministered what they had themselves received in their own souls' experience, from

intercourse with God, fresh from the fountain.

How

much more power and life are felt from words that flow from the lips of one whose soul is evidently in living communion "with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ," than from words, be they ever so good and correct, which come to us as a lesson learned, retained in the memory rather than in the heart.

Previous to this season, she had surely been taught of God, and loved the Lord fervently; but now it seemed to her that every truth she had before learned had lain only on the surface, and that now the seed sown was taking deeper root, for it was a season of "renewing of the holy Ghost," while "receiving the Word in much affliction." She had now learned in earnest the lesson that God had been long teaching her, through the various troubles and disappointments that had filled up her short career, in a most marked manner. So many prospects of earthly joy seemed, at times, to open to her view, just flitted before her path, and vanished as her hand seemed to grasp them. Now she had learned to calculate on nothing but His blessed presence, to live but for His glory, to give up body, soul, and spirit to His service; and from that period to the hour when her spirit was received into the bosom of Jesus, such was all her salvation, all her desire.

The following lines were written by her as she was

"Dost Thou not, then, know the feeling
Which I would but cannot tell,
That which needs Thy Spirit's healing?
Ah! Thou dost, dear Lord, and well.

"Fellow-pilgrims ask a question,
Why I should not cheerful be?
But the tearful eye's expression,
It is understood by Thee."

Chapter Sixth.

"Jesus! my sorrow lies too deep
For human sympathy;

It knows not how to tell itself
To any but to Thee.

"Jesus! my fainting spirit brings
Its fearfulness to Thee;

Thine eye, at least, can penetrate
The clouded mystery."

IN February, 1840, Bessie was in London. She had been separated from her sister for some time, and was looking forward with joyful anticipation to rejoining her at She had felt the separation deeply, and hoped in future to remain with her she loved so fondly, and with whom her soul was so closely united.

In the days of her childhood, Sarah had acted towards her as a mother, and watched over her most

carefully. As Bessie grew older, she became her companion and confidant; there was not a feeling concealed from each other. A complete union of thought bound them together, more closely than natural ties of relationship could have done. Their opinions, tastes, and pursuits were the same, so that there was not one discordant note to break the harmony of their intercourse.

Bessie was counting the hours until she should again embrace her dear sister, and resolved that nothing but unforeseen circumstances should ever cause them the trial of another separation. One Sunday morning she was lying in bed asleep, when she was awaked by feeling a hand gently laid on her head; she opened her eyes, and finding it was yet dark, wondered who could call her so early; she turned round and saw a bright figure standing by the side of her bed. A black veil covered the face, so that she could not distinguish the features, but the whole figure was robed in light as dazzling as that of the sun, which shone through the covering of the face; it made a farewell sign of the hand, and disappeared.

Bessie trembled violently. Being naturally possessed of so much courage, it shows how the flesh quails at being brought even for an instant into the presence of a being from the unseen world; as it is said, in Job iv., "Fear came upon me, and trembling,