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her trials, she was enabled even in the fiery furnace to rejoice. Him, as the object of her supreme attachment, it was her high aim to honour—walking worthy of his vocation, and winning others to the banner of his love. Her soul, indeed, forgot not all his benefits. He had not implacably chided with her, neither kept his anger for ever. He had forgiven her iniquities, and had healed, if not the diseases of the outward, those which are harder to be borne, of the inward man :—and could she be unmindful of the riches of that mercy, which had given her so good a hope beyond 'the changes and chances' which are our lot below? No; Emily had sat too long at the feet of Jesus, thus to have learned Christ. Her strength, she had been taught, was in humiliation at the cross; and thence she was ever desirous to derive the exemplar by which to regulate her deportment, as a daughter, a sister, and a disciple of her heavenly Master. Her path through life had been a retired one. As she had associated but little with mankind, so there were few who had witnessed the angel-like humility of her walk with God. Confined to a spot remote from observation, she had ripened in seclusion from the world. Her youth was indeed as the spring for loveliness; and like the almond tree she blossomed betimes. With the sweetness of a lily blooming in the garden of the Lord, and unfolding its modest beauties beneath the culture of his paternal and protecting care, she had gradually, though almost unnoticed and unknown, been made meet for the inheritance of his presence, and prepared for a participation in those pleasures which are at his right hand, pure and unalloyed, for evermore. Thus, like a tree by the rivers of waters, she brought forth her fruit. Planted in the house of the Lord, she flourished in the courts of God; and with her affections disengaged from, though necessarily conversant with, the things of time, she grew up an inhabitant of a better and a brighter scene.
"The sun already climbs the eastward hill,
With promise of a pleasant day. Ah! ere
On the soft bosom of the western wave
He lean his head, how many a spirit, watchful
Meanwhile or careless, will have winged its way
To joys ineffable, or to the abodes
Of horror and despair!"
The fulness of the Divine counsel had at length come in, when its purpose relative to the family, which has formed the principal subject of our narrative, was to be finally developed. 'He who setteth the solitary in habitations, and maketh him families like a flock,' now saw it for his glory, in dispensations indeed inscrutable to human eyes, to visit with trial those, whom he had so long followed, and whom he still attended, though 'in a pillar of cloud,' with his parental love. Their 'pleasant portion was.soon to be left unto them desolate.' Removed from their seat, and scattered to the ends of the earth, they were now to learn, in the depths of affliction, that God moves in a mysterious way; 'exalting one, and bringing down another,' as it seemeth good to him—for 'he hath prepared his throne in the heavens, and his kingdom ruleth over all.'
During our progress, we teive traced some from thoughtlessness to the solicitude of a mind, awakened from the awful security of natural darkness, and anxiously enquiring after the way that leads to solid and lasting happiness. From that seriousness, which *o well becomes the candidate for immortality—the being 'whose breath is in hisnostrils,' and who is separated only by a step from irretrievable ruin—we have pursued them, until they were permitted to look up as 'prisoners of hope,' and to rejoice in assurance of the glory to be revealed. Others again we have followed from the cradle to a premature grave. Cut down when the blossoms of fond anticipation were but just beginning to expand, we have seen
youth and loveliness, like a flower when 'the wind passeth over it,' faded and gone.— The brief and melancholy sequel now alone remains. Profitable though mournful, may we be led to consider in it the devastations Of time, levelling in his advance, with an unrelenting hand, ditinctions of rank and age: knocking alike at the portals of the palace, and the poor man's door :* calling equally the infant as him who is'full of days;' and summoning all to that dread tribunal where the various generations of mankind shall stand contemporaries, to hear pronounced that decision, pregnant with such tremendous consequences, and from which there is no appeal.
A few months previous to Emily's decease, 'herfather had already entered on his repose.-jLike a shock of corn in his season, in a good old age Albert du Blesne was gathered to his people. Permitted to survey his offspring arriving at maturity about him; and,
* Pallida mors jequo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas,
Regumque turres.—Hob. Carm. Lib. i. 5, t See note w.