O what grace must be required for dying! especially when I think of leaving my beloved husband. My lovely children too,-how should I give them up? These dear babes may never remember a mother's care. But why do I write thus? When I calmly view the prospect, I know the Lord is all-sufficient. To me he can give dying grace, and comfort and guide those who may be left behind: here, therefore, let me leave myself and them. “June, 1843.—'As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so my soul panteth after thee, O God.' I cannot rest until I love Him more fully, and am determined to seek a deeper baptism from above. I feel the need of Christian forbearance. I must watch more carefully, and shut the door of my lips. I desire that love, as an ever-flowing stream, may run through all my actions, and that I may study peace, and endeavour in all I do or say to glorify God." The following extract, which is without date, was written a short time before the affliction of which she died, and is the last entry in her journal :—“ I have lately read two excellent Memoirs, of Mr. Duncan and Miss Jerram: I was much struck by the great desire of the former to be useful to others, and took shame to myself for my comparative heedlessness in this respect. The account of the death-bed of the latter affected me deeply, as she felt almost precisely as I have often thought I should do in similar circumstances. Such determination to cling to the cross,—such fears of the pains of death. All this, I thought, would be my case. But God's children do not often die under a cloud. For Christ's sake, have mercy on me! Help me in my last hours, and grant that I may depart in holy triumph, and leaving a blessed testimony to my sorrowing friends." In her last illness, which continued more than seven weeks, her sufferings were extremely distressing; yet she was mercifully supported, and was enabled to endure all with submissive resignation to the divine will. During most of the time, however, she, as well as her nearest friends, indulged the hope that the sickness was not unto death; and, in the prospect of recovery, she frequently spoke of her strong determination to devote herself more fully to the service of God. But sometimes the symptoms were so alarming as to appear to indicate the approach of dissolution, so that she was led to the contemplation of the change which might be awaiting her; and in the prospect of judgment and eternity, her heart seemed for a while to quail, and her faith was tried to the uttermost. But resting wholly on the blood of the atonement, she ultimately triumphed. During a considerable part of her affliction, she was too weak to be visited; but even then prayer was her support and delight. When she appeared to be somewhat stronger, at her request the writer went to see her. She spoke to him of her great unworthiness, and fully expressed to him all her doubts and fears. He was enabled to direct her attention to the cross, and a believing view of the Crucified afforded her abundant comfort and consolation. On a subsequent occasion she had such a manifestation of the love of God to her soul, that she could not be restrained from praising her Saviour aloud at the still hour of midnight; and in a sweet and clear voice, she sung the whole of the beautiful hymn, beginning,"Arise, my soul, arise, Shake off thy guilty fears!" And when she came to the last verse, her hands were ecstasy of joy. "My God is reconciled, His pardoning voice I hear," &c., lifted up to heaven, and her soul was filled with an She also sang part of the hymn, "There is a land of pure delight," &c. ; requesting those who were watching with her to unite in the same exercise. On December 25th, her complaint occasioned the most distressing nervous symptoms, tending greatly to depress her mind. On that day she was visited by the Rev. R. Dugdale, to whom she spoke fully and freely. Her mind was shadowed by a cloud, and though her friends saw plainly that it was occasioned by physical causes, it was not the less painful to herself for the time. He endeavoured to encourage her; and she said to him, with great emphasis, "It is a solemn thing to die; but I know that God can give me dying grace." Mr. Dugdale's counsel and prayers were very useful to her. Her last struggle with the enemy of her soul occurred on the 31st of December. It was very severe; but in the conflict she was victorious, exclaiming, "I can believe; I do believe; Christ is my Saviour; I cling to his cross; I rest on his atoning blood." She added, "Thou never, never, wilt forsake A helpless worm that trusts in thee." From this time, (Sunday,) until the Wednesday following, she was generally insensible; but during that day she had several lucid intervals, and her language was all praise and thanksgiving. In the evening she said to one who stood near to her, her countenance beaming with inexpressible joy and serenity," Jesus loves and keeps me still!" On Thursday her sufferings were intense; but it was evident to all who stood around, that in her "patience had its perfect work." On the Friday morning her intellectual powers displayed all their former vigour, and her countenance was radiant with hope; but it bore at the same time evident marks of the near approach of death. It was intimated to her that her case was now hopeless; and at once she broke forth in accents of joy and praise, and said, "Yea, though I walk through the valley and shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me." Again and again she repeated, "Thou art with me: thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." She then lifted up her hands, and exclaimed, "Praise God! glory be to God! Christ is precious to my soul. I am going to heaven to see Jesus, and to dwell for ever in his presence." She also requested those who stood around to sing the hymn, "There is a land of pure delight," &c. But, though her submission to the divine will was so complete, her confidence in her Saviour so strong, and her hope so triumphant and joyful, her natural feelings, though so controlled by grace that they could not disturb her peace, were yet very powerful. As a daughter, wife, and mother, her affections had been as strong, as her conduct had been exemplary; and now she was called to take a final earthly leave of all whom she loved so well. It was her happiness that even in health natural affections had been subordinated to divine love; and her dying hours gave full testimony that it was so. The farewell interview was deeply affecting. The writer will not attempt to describe it. Grace made her more than conqueror. Around her she saw her dearest friends, sorrowing that they so soon should see her face no more; but her prospects of heaven were bright and transporting: she saw by faith her God and Saviour, and the glorious company of saints and angels; and the momentary feelings of anguish occasioned by the sight of those whom she was about to leave were absorbed in the feelings of triumphant joy, inspired by faith, in the view of those whom she was about to join. Her language to them all amounted to this,"I am going to leave you; but I am going to Jesus." Immediately after this painful, but holy and delightful, scene, she exclaimed, “I am in the valley; but there is light in the valley. It is full of light." The text was repeated to her," And have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." "Yes," she rejoined, "in the blood of the Lamb, the atoning blood." She added, “O how I long to go to my Saviour and my God!” She quoted several passages of Scripture, and verses of hymns, as expressing her own feelings. During her previous Christian course she had often expressed apprehensions of the dying hour; but her remedy had always been, trust in Christ for present salvation: the future she left to God, only being careful, while she lived to live to him. And when the solemn hour came, her fears were all dispersed. A brighter testimony to the inestimable value of religion than that which was afforded by her dying moments, could scarcely have been given. After declaring so strongly her peace and joy, she slept for some time. About an hour before she died, she awoke; but though, by several signs, she manifested perfect consciousness, articulation had failed, and at length she calmly fell asleep in Jesus, January 5th, 1844, aged twenty-seven. BRIEF BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 18. DIED, March 18th, 1843, in the Donegal Mission, Ireland, aged seventy years, Mrs. Isabella Bradshaw. She was brought to a saving knowledge of the truth in the fifteenth year of her age; at which time she joined the Methodist society, and remained in connexion with it till called to her reward. In devotedness to God, the faithful discharge of all her varied duties, and in strong and constant faith in God's word, and all the provisions of the Gospel, she attained to a rich and established experience of evangelical blessings, and maintained a scriptural and consistent character for piety and usefulness throughout her Christian course. Her last affliction was severe; but she was preserved in patience, resignation, and confidence in God. As her dissolution drew near, her happy soul seemed to plume itself for flight, and to rise triumphantly above bodily suffering. By faith and hope, her future inheritance appeared as though present to her view, so that she longed to be set free from the prison of clay. Every breath was praise. While her friends were watching the last flickerings of life, she slowly opened her eyes, and, with a tremulous voice, said, ،، Angels beckon me away, After a few moments she had ceased to live on earth. HENRY GEDdes. 19. Died, April 25th, at South-Witham, in the Grantham Circuit, Mr. Robert Ward, aged ninety. From early life he was a strict attendant on the services of the established Church, and his moral character was good; but he was a stranger to inward piety, until the year 1803, when the Wesleyan Ministers were first introduced into the village. Mr. and Mrs. Ward were among the earliest members of the society that was then formed, and very gladly entertained the Preachers: indeed, for eight years, until a chapel was built, a large room in his house formed their place of worship. He soon learned that mere outward morality would not save him; he therefore fled for refuge to lay hold of the hope set before him in the Gospel, and gave full proof that he had passed from death unto life. He was a man of few words, and of a retiring disposition; but he was a good man; and when he first began his Christian course, had to pass through many trials and persecutions. But for forty years he held on the even tenor of his way, never looking back, but often regretting that it was so late in life before he entered upon the service of the best of Masters. He had the happiness, before long, of seeing nearly all his children, comprising a large family, become members of the Methodist society. Though he lived to so great an age, he retained all his faculties to an unusual extent. In his eighty-fifth year he undertook a journey to London, to visit his three daughters, then living there, and returned in health and safety. About a year subsequently, one of them visited him; and when she was about to take her leave of him, and return home, he said: "Mary, you may not see me again in this life; but let not that trouble you tell Jane and Ann that it is well with me. I am waiting patiently until my change shall come. My eyesight is beginning to fail; but your mother is never tired of reading that precious book to me;" and with tears of gratitude and joy, he added, "I thank God for sending us his written word: that word is truth; it reveals to me Jesus Christ, on whom rests all my hope for salvation. My feet are on a sure foundation,-on the rock, Christ Jesus." Soon after this, it pleased God to take from him his aged partner, to whom he had been united fifty-six years. They had lived in the same village, and in the same house, the whole of that time. They were well known and much respected, both by rich and poor. He felt that this was a heavy stroke; but he cheerfully submitted to the will of God, knowing that he should soon follow her. About a year afterwards, his health began to sink under the weight of years. However, he was not confined to the house, and was seldom absent from the means of grace. But on the evening of Saturday, the 22d of April, he took a walk nearly round the village. When he returned, he said to his daughter, who was living with him, "I feel faint and poorly: I should like to go to bed." During the night he became worse, and in the morning medical aid was called in; but he was evidently sinking. In the forenoon, a friend called to see him, to whom he said, "I shall soon be with my friends above; I am very happy; I shall soon be with my blessed Jesus." He soon after became lethargic, and spoke no more, but lay composed until Tuesday evening, when he died in the Lord. M. NAYLOR. MISCELLANEOUS COMMUNICATIONS. ST. PAUL'S EPISTLE TO THE PHILIPPIANS. (To the Editor of the Wesleyan-Methodist Magazine.) WE often lose much of the instruction which we might derive from the Epistles of St. Paul, through not endeavouring vividly to realize, and to keep before our minds, the circumstances in which he was placed at the time of writing them, and the situation of those to whom they were addressed. Did we advert to these particulars, we should read his letters with the most lively interest; we should perceive the beauty, the tenderness, the power, of many passages which we are in danger of hastily passing over; and we should be able to trace the development of the Apostle's character and views, and to mark the breathing forth of the deep and warm emotions of his heart. There is another loss which we sustain, in consequence of the omission referred to. We fail to perceive the strength of the internal evidence which these Epistles afford of their genuineness and authority; and thus we remain destitute of a powerful confirmation of our faith. To every thoughtful mind, it must be a point of deep interest, to feel assured, while reading the Pauline Epistles, that it is indeed listening to the instructions of that great Apostle, whose conversion afforded so powerful a testimony to the resurrection and glory of the Lord Jesus, whose whole history was a proof of the truth and excellence of our religion, and whose character, when changed and purified by divine grace, presented that union of dignity, humility, and tenderness, which is calculated to call forth our admiration, and to win our esteem and love. The genuineness of St. Paul's Epistles is indeed established by abundant and overwhelming evidence. No writings of Heathen antiquity can at all deserve to be placed in comparison with them in this respect. We have far more numerous and satisfactory proofs that these letters, generally speaking, are from the pen of the great Apostle of the Gentiles, than that any writings of Cicero or Virgil may be correctly ascribed to them. If we except the Epistle to the Hebrews, respecting the authorship of which a controversy existed, all of them were received by the early churches; they were read and circulated from the very first, as the undoubted productions of Paul; and they were collected very early into one volume, termed "The Apostle," to which several Fathers of the second century refer. In a period in which the claims of any production to an apostolical origin were anxiously inquired into, not the slightest doubt was ever expressed in relation to the genuineness of these writings; and to deny that they were composed by St. Paul, is to set all history at defiance. But the Pauline Epistles afford also, to the sincere and thoughtful inquirer, the strongest internal evidence of their genuineness. Not only do they bear the name of Paul, but in many of them we find references, or allusions, to a number of incidental circumstances, affecting his personal history, the state of the churches which he addressed, and the relation in which he stood to them. And the manner and connexion of these allusions are, in the highest degree, natural and appropriate. They are not introduced formally, and in one part of the Epistle only; but they are interwoven with state VOL. III.-FOURTH SERIES. 2 P |