were complicated and acute. One of the diseases which contributed to bring her earthly life to a close was cancer. For some time before her death, it appeared as if this excruciating malady had affected, directly or indirectly, her whole frame. But all was well with her. Her fortitude never yielded. "It is the Lord," she said: "let him do what seemeth him good." Her prayer was, that divine strength might be perfected in her weakness; and she was brought triumphantly through all. What are sometimes called the passive graces were instructively, I may add, very encouragingly, exhibited in her. Her own will seemed swallowed up in the will of God. She waited for its providential intimations, and was gladly content to follow as she was led. She chose neither life nor death, though her desire was to depart that she might be with Christ; but how long she should remain to suffer, or when she should remove hence and be at rest, that she left with her heavenly Father. "He knows best," she would say; "and he will do that which is best." And though her sufferings abounded, yet so did her consolation. She was not only "patient in tribulations," but she also "gloried in them." She felt them, she could do no otherwise; but she knew "that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed;" and it was to that future glory that she delighted to look.

As long as she was able, she not only was careful to attend to the more public services of religion, but to visit the sick. She knew how to sympathize with them, and God was pleased to make her the honoured instrument of much good to them. It is believed that several were thus converted from the error of their ways: some of them went to heaven before her, and others are still on their way.

The close of her life was in full accordance with the character she had been enabled to maintain from the time that she first experienced the mercy and peace of God. With the exception of a few intervals of slight delirium, she was sensible to the last; though distinct articulation failed a short time previous to her departure. Not long before she died, she called to her bedside those of her family who had not yet decidedly taken the Lord to be their God, and with all the strength she could command, with great earnestness exhorted them to delay and trifle no longer. She told them that it would not be long before they would find themselves in the circumstances in which she herself then was; but that, unless they sought the Lord while he was to be found, they would not be supported by the same good hope which enabled her even to triumph in the near approach of dissolution. With the strong feeling of an affectionate parent, and a dying Christian, she charged them to ". prepare to meet their God."

Her closing hours, like those of many other saints, were not altogether undisturbed by the final assaults of the enemy of souls. But she had known temptation before, and she knew the weapons whereby victory was to be secured. The shield of faith quenched his fiery darts; she used "the sword of the Spirit, the word of God;" she "prayed always with all prayer;" and God beat down Satan under her feet.

Many pious sayings fell from her lips during her last illness. On one occasion she said, "I prefer being alone, that I may hold communion with God without any interruption." At another time, a friend, who had called to see her, alluded to the severity of her sufferings: she

replied, in an emphatic tone, "Not one pain too much." To a question relating to the state of her mind, she gave this answer: 66 I feel Christ to be more and more precious. I shall soon be with him. What I need is, more patience, that I may quietly suffer all his righteous will, and await his time." Observing that one of her children was weeping, she directly said, "Do not grieve: I am going home. I have a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.' Do you think that the Lord will leave me at the last? No, no: in many a storm he has been with me, and he will not forsake me in death." She also remarked, "I have felt several times as if I were just entering heaven; and O, what a heaven it will be!

The last words she was able to articulate 66 were, Leave me alone, that I may rest." Her sun went down at length in a clear sky. Nature seemed to be worn out; and, while her countenance expressed the undisturbed peace that reigned within, she died as if she had been falling asleep.

She thus exchanged the sufferings of time for the glories of eternity, January 13th, 1843, in the sixty-sixth year of her age.

MEMOIR OF MISS CATHERINE MELLOR:

BY THE REV. GEORGE MARSDEN.

MISS MELLOR was born at Oldham, in March, 1820. As the family attended the Wesleyan chapel, she was, from earliest childhood, taken there for the public worship of Almighty God. While her mind, therefore, was yet young and tender, and influenced by the first movements of divine grace through our Lord Jesus Christ, she heard those great and saving truths of the Gospel by which the Holy Spirit works, and which are able to make the soul "wise unto salvation." She often experienced those strivings which called her to "remember her Creator in the days of her youth," though, like too many others, she did not for some time fully yield to them. As she grew up, she even sought the illusive happiness which a career of gaiety promises. Her temperament was sanguine and lively, and disposed her to enter, and after a time to enter eagerly, into the pursuit of the pleasure afforded by worldly amusements. She thus "followed too much the devices and desires of her own heart;" till, in the year 1838, those gracious convictions which she had resisted, but which, under the faithful ministry of the word, were frequently renewed, while hearing a sermon in the chapel, became so powerful that she was awakened to a sense, as well as a sight, of her sin and danger. Her conscience was aroused; she saw her folly, and felt that she was guilty before God. This awakening issued in her conversion. An account of it she has herself given in a diary which she kept for her own spiritual benefit, as long as her health permitted. It is as follows:-"I feel it to be my duty, that it may be of service to me hereafter, to record the great things that God has done for my soul. Up to the age of nineteen, I was far,

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very far, from God. My disposition being gay, and having a great flow of spirits, I delighted in worldly company, and never felt so happy as when sharing in their amusements. I was still followed by the strivings of the Spirit; but I sought to stifle them by drinking more deeply of the pleasures of the world. I had always attended the faithful preaching of the Wesleyan Ministers; and while listening to the important truths they delivered, I have often resolved to alter my way of living, and turn to the Lord; but, alas! these resolutions were formed in my own strength. As soon as I entered into conversation with my companions, these impressions vanished away, and my goodness was as the morning cloud, and the early dew. In the course of 1838, there was a very gracious work in the Circuit; and on the 2d of December, while hearing a sermon from, What must I do to be saved?' I was convinced that I was a guilty, hell-deserving sinner. I remained at the prayer-meeting held after the service; yet such was my pride, that I was almost afraid of being seen. I saw the Minister approaching towards me, and my proud heart won the victory. I went out of the chapel, and strove to free myself from the convictions which I so deeply felt, but to which I thought I could never yield. I could not do it. The world had lost its charms for me. I saw them as they really were, and I was miserable. I was invited to a class a few days afterwards; but the thought arose, What will the world say to this?' and I yielded to it. The next day, however, I felt so much, that I promised I would go on the following Friday. In the intervening week, I had many struggles; but, happily, my excellent mother saw my state, and advised and encouraged me; and I bless God that her counsel prevailed. I was enabled to keep my promise; and I shall have to praise him to all eternity that ever I went to a class-meeting. At the close, the Leader asked me to allow him to put down my name; and so answered the objections which I raised, that I saw the folly and danger of delay, and could withhold my consent no longer. I now began to feel more the intolerable burden under which my soul laboured, and I determined not to rest till I possessed a clear evidence of pardon. During the following week, I drank deeply of the wormwood and the gall. The more I strove to draw nigh to God, the farther I seemed to be away, and the more awful did my past life appear; so that I began to despair of ever obtaining mercy. But, blessed be the name of the Lord, he is slow to anger, and full of compassion. When the time came, I again went to my class; and the promised presence was with us. Such were my feelings, that I could not help crying aloud for the mercy I so much needed. I had some degree of light and comfort, and a hope in the atoning blood. I continued to pray; but my guilt seemed too great to be forgiven, and I departed with my wretchedness unrelieved. I went to the meeting of the bands the next evening; and while I heard others speaking of the goodness of God to them, I felt in an especial manner my lost estate as a sinner. I remained at the prayer-meeting afterwards held, determined to give up all, so that I might but win Christ. I wrestled with God, that I might prevail. The Minister present saw my distress, and came to me. He spoke of the willingness of Christ to save, and told me that I must now look to Him, not to myself. I agonized with God, and, before long, I felt power to venture my whole soul on Christ's atonement. But, O, the happi

ness of that moment! No tongue can utter it! I seemed overpowered with the presence of God. Glory! glory!' was all that I could then say. On retiring for rest, with what altered feelings did I approach the footstool of my divine Redeemer! Looking up to God,

'With confidence I could draw nigh,

And boldly, Abba, Father! cry.'

But the restless adversary of my soul, who still walketh about, seeking whom he may devour,' soon began to reason with me, suggesting to my mind that it was all a delusion, that I was only under the influence of excited feeling, and that I was thus deceiving myself. I again came to the cross, and I found that there was my remedy. The Lord again revealed himself unto me, and gave me a still clearer evidence of my adoption into his family. Satan had begun to entangle me; but I could say that

My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and follow'd Thee.'

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I do bless God that I can say, and I would say it with all humility, that from that day to this," (about two years had then elapsed,) "I have never lost the sense of the divine favour thus bestowed on me.'

"

As the

In the course of the winter of 1838, Miss Mellor suffered much from a severe and aggravated cold; and in the following spring and summer the germ of the disease which ultimately became fatal, began manifestly to develope itself. In the autumn, a temporary residence by the sea-side appeared to produce considerable benefit. symptoms of the disorder had been thus mitigated, in the summer of 1840 change of air was again sought, and she spent several months in a visit to some of her friends in a neighbouring county. During this period, she was punctual'y attentive to all the means of grace, public or social; and it was evident that advancement in holiness was her constant object. But she felt that, though she was warring a good warfare, it still was a warfare. She had to pass through trials and temptations; but she sought for help and strength, and experienced the all-sufficiency of her Saviour's grace; so that these exercises promoted the growth and establishment she so much desired, and so earnestly sought. An extract from her diary will show this:- "I feel that Jesus is unspeakably precious to me. The throne of grace is easy of access. I am watered from on high. Before reading the word of God, I prayed that, by the light and power of the Holy Spirit, it might be rendered a blessing to me. And my prayer was heard. I was preserved from those inward wanderings which have so often disturbed me whilst reading. The text, 'Blessed are the pure in heart,' was very impressive. O that my God would make me pure in heart; that he would give me the single eye, that I may live only to his glory; that he would cause every thought, word, and action, to be in submission to his will! I aim at this. I am striving for it. I trust I am resolved not to come short of it. O God, help me to give all diligence to make my calling and election sure!'

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From her visit she returned home, apparently much improved in her health; and for some time she proceeded in the usual track of duty, not only holding fast without wavering the profession of her faith, but the faith itself. The humble, consistent, and happy Chris

tian was seen in her whole deportment. When about eighteen months had gone by, however, symptoms of indisposition again appeared, and change of air was once more recommended. She experienced temporary relief; but this was all. The alleviations of the disorder passed away with the warm weather, and in November, (1842,) the illness decidedly commenced which only terminated with life.

So long as she was able to leave the house, her attendance on the services of religion in God's house, or among his people, was punctual and devout, as it had been from the time that she was happily induced and enabled to take the Lord for her God, and for her everlasting portion. They were to her as the wells of salvation, from which she drew water with joy. Her Class-Leader bears a very pleasing testimony to the sacred serenity and joy which seemed to characterize her religious experience in this season of anxiety and suspense, as it would have been to those who knew of no happiness but such as the world affords to man in this present life. But Miss Mellor had set her affections on 66 things above." She strove to love the Lord her God with all her "heart, and soul, and mind, and strength." She lived, therefore, in the spirit of continual watchfulness and prayer. In prayer, indeed, seemed to be her chief delight. How familiar to her was this sacred exercise, was manifest when she was requested to pray in the meetings of her class. "Her prayers with us," observes her Leader, "were marked by a genuine and very pleasing simplicity, holy fervency, and not only a knowledge of her own state, and her own wants, but an accurate acquaintance with the general movements of religious experience in others; so that in praying for her Christian associates, they felt that she was praying with them, and that their desires and supplications were mingled and united while they were thus, together, drawing near to the throne of the heavenly grace. She approached the footstool of her Father which is in heaven with all humility, but with the confidence of an expecting child; not indeed in her own name or strength,-she was always deeply conscious of her entire unworthiness, but in the all prevailing name of Jesus she would pour out her soul before God, praising him for his great and manifold mercies. It was truly displaying simply to her God, our every care and want,' pleading the divine promises, and imploring such blessings as were then requisite and necessary for us."

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During the winter of 1841-2, her illness, pronounced by her medical a tendant to be inflammation of the liver, exhibited an appearance which occasioned to her friends the most serious apprehensions. She so far revived, however, as to be able, in May, to bear removal to the sea coast; and this so far recruited her strength as to make regular exercise in the open air practicable. When she returned home in October, she appeared to be so much better, that her friends indulged a hope that, with care, she might at length fully recover her health. This hope was as brief as it was delusive. As the winter season advanced, all the unfavourable symptoms returned, and it soon became evident that she was doomed to an early grave. Her case was declared to be hopeless, and the result was stated to be merely a question of time.

The progress of the disease was connected with frequent attacks of severe pain, aggravated by the most deadly sickness. But her mind retained its calmness. Even when her complicated sufferings were