ing God. She was enabled fully to hearken to the Holy One of Israel, her Saviour, and, in consequence, her peace was as a river, her righteousness as the waves of the sea. In her settled experience, "the work of righteousness was peace, and the effect of righteousness quietness and assurance," which passed not away. In affliction and in health, in seasons of trouble and perplexity, as well as when all around her was calm and clear, she manifested the spirit of the apostolical injunction, "Rejoice evermore, pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks." Her life was prayer and praise. In the enjoyment of this grace she was preserved to the end of her days, witnessing to all around a good confession. Her deeds, her words, her tempers, all gave a good report of the promised rest from inbred sin. And the bliss she enjoyed during the two-and-fifty years that she thus walked in close communion with God is "More than angel tongues can tell, Or angel minds conceive;" for hers was pre-eminently a religion that yielded abounding consolation. She had large views and high aspirations; but these did not prevent present and positive enjoyment. She grew in grace; but in this she was changed from glory into glory. She was always thankful when she heard a discourse on this subject. When the writer last saw her, which was about a year before she died, she said to him, "William, do you preach a present, a free, and especially a full, salvation?" She added, "It gives me pleasure when I hear much of this from the pulpit." In the discharge of the duties that devolved on her as a wife, a mother, and the mistress of a family, she was most exemplary. In her, religion produced no neglect of temporal duties: it rather made her more diligent in attention to them. She viewed them in connexion with the divine will: their performance was therefore with her a matter of conscience. The salvation of her children and domestics was an object of constant and earnest desire to her. For this she prayed unceasingly, and laboured assiduously, and with signal success, as she lived to see all her children, several of her grandchildren, and most of those who served in the family, year after year, converted to God. The benefits her children have reaped from her example, her counsels, and her prayers, they deem invaluable; and in the goodness of God towards her family she herself rejoiced with exceeding great joy. To all who feared and served God her love abounded, and in particular to the Ministers of the Lord Jesus, as the Wesleyan Ministers and Preachers, who for the space of about half a century were entertained under her roof, can testify. To her neighbours she breathed nothing but good-will, and she was ever ready to render them any temporal assistance in her power; while her Christian benevolence led her to impart reproof, exhortation, instruction, as the case might demand, to all around her. For the young especially she cherished an ardent affection; and to promote their spiritual welfare she was unre laxing in her endeavours. "With affectionate energy," a friend who knew her well has observed, "she recommended religion to the young as the one thing needful; telling them how much greater were their spiritual privileges than hers, in her earlier life. And after describing the enjoyments of religion, she would often exclaim,—— "What hath the world to equal this? The solid peace, the heavenly bliss," &c. To the habitations of suffering, her religion conducted her. And welcome were her visits to the chamber of sickness or the house of mourning. Her maternal kindness, her elevated piety, her acknowledged consistency of character, her childlike simplicity, her kind and compassionate spirit and manner, together with her general knowledge and her acts of cheerful beneficence, eminently fitted her for a "sister of charity," and opened to her a door of access to her neighbours, whether in the lower or the higher walks of society. Her life, in fact, was a practical comment on the apostolic description of true charity. (1 Cor. xiii. 4—8.) And this embraced the whole world in its range. For those parts which yet remain in the darkness of Heathenism, her commiseration went forth in eager longings and prayers, that to them might the word of the great salvation be sent; and to promote this object she freely contributed, and gladly rendered any aid in her power, in furnishing useful articles for Missionary "Baskets" and "Bazaars." An interest in behalf of Christian Missions she endeavoured to create and foster in her children, and those around her. And when to her first-born son was "this grace given," to "preach" far hence among "the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ," she rejoiced, deeming it as high an honour as could be conferred on him, in this life. Nor was her joy less, when, a short time before her death, she learned that her grandson had been recommended by the London District-Meeting for the same arduous employment. Her zeal, in reference to these glorious objects, was unabated to the last. When on her dying bed, surrounded by her converted and happy family, among whom stood the returned Missionary, she wished them to join in singing Bishop Heber's beautiful Hymn on Missions : "From Greenland's icy mountains, Advanced piety in her, (as in all others by whom it is experienced,) led to abasing views of herself. Beholding, as she did, with open face the glory of the Lord, she felt her unworthiness, her nothingness, before God. Gazing steadfastly for half a century on the richness and fulness of redeeming mercy and sanctifying grace, she beheld such a vastness, that, compared with this "plenteous store," what she possessed seemed to her like a drop to the ocean. Forgetting the things behind, she reached forth to those which are before. "While in her class," remarks her Leader, "she often spoke with devout praise of the blessed communion she enjoyed with the adorable Trinity in her closet; she ever expressed her want of still more faith." The exceeding greatness of the divine promises she beheld in such a light, and so felt their preciousness, that her whole soul was drawn out in ardent desire to "know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge," and to be "filled with all the fulness of God." Her years rolled on thus happily and usefully till she had numbered fourscore; when, though her mental faculties were vigorous, and her natural force comparatively little abated, yet her eyes became dim. This was a great privation, and caused her to pass many hours in silence. Yet she never repined at the dispensation, but employed her thoughts in meditating on the goodness of God toward her, and her family in general, and delighted to talk of the past, and especially of the care of a gracious Providence over herself and family. She gratefully remembered all the way which the Lord her God led her for more than forty years in the wilderness, guiding, sustaining, defending, and delivering her. Though no longer able to read, she could think, and she could pray; and the fire on the altar lacked not fuel to preserve it ever burning. Nor was her affliction allowed to detain her from the house of prayer, or to occasion any remissness in closet duties. She was thankful when any member of the family could find leisure to read to her the lives and experience of the saints, and the standard and periodical works of her own church. But especially did she love to hear the word of the Lord, large portions of which she had “hid in her heart." And whilst she had long experienced their sanctifying influence, now, in particular, did she derive comfort from their remembrance and repetition. Her favourite chapter was 1 Cor. xiii. Frequently would she have it read to her, often remarking, "It would be well for us regularly to try ourselves by it." She was throughout life an admirer of the beauties of nature, and many an instructive and quickening lesson did she learn from the extensive volume of God's works. Whilst her eye beheld lovely landscapes, admiration and gratitude seemed instinctively to arise within, whilst her lips magnified Him whose power created, and whose goodness and wisdom sustain, the universe. The writer must now come to the closing period of her life. On Sunday, the 22d of March, 1846, though she was in her eighty-fourth year, she walked twice to Bedale chapel and back. On the 24th, she caught cold, which brought on erysipelas; but in the course of two or three weeks, she was so far recovered as to be able to attend her class; when she spoke with great feeling, and afterwards prayed in her usual strain of thanksgiving and adoration. On the 15th of April, in the absence of her husband, she met his class for him. After bearing her testimony to the love and faithfulness of Him who had been her guide from her youth up, she urged all who were present to seek a higher state of grace, and then, though very feeble, she prayed most fervently. On the 7th of May she rode to Bedale to attend the Missionary Meeting there, and remained to hear the Rev. Robert Jackson preach in the evening. As she had not been able to attend the public means of grace for some time previously, the services appeared to be more pleasing and profitable to her than usual. After some days, however, she was again indisposed; a cough came on, and it became necessary to call in medical aid. But it was soon evident that all would be unavailing. She became gradually weaker, though able to sit up a little in her own chamber; and on the 4th of June she came into the sitting-room for two or three hours; but the exertion was too much for her. Next morning, the sacrament of the Lord's supper was administered to her, and to the family, by her son, the Rev. Matthew Cranswick. She had to be supported in bed during the solemn service. Until the 18th, she remained apparently much the same, suffering most from extreme weakness and languor, seldom complaining of pain, always cheerful, and thankful for the least office of kindness, so that those around her felt it quite a privilege to minister to her wants. Often did she express the feelings of her heart by quoting from Addison's hymn of grateful thanksgiving,— "When all thy mercies, O my God," &c. In singing and prayer she delighted. In these exercises she had always taken pleasure; and now that the flesh and heart were failing, she felt their value more than ever. When any of her friends came to see her, she requested them to spend a large portion of the time of the visit in these pleasant and holy duties. On the 18th she was evidently much worse, and her mind occasionally wandered. A few days before her death, after being some time silent, she said, "I have been thinking, How awful, if, after all our privileges, we should at last come short! Thank God, this need not be the case." On the 22d she prayed as audibly as she had been wont to do in the family when in health. The twenty-third Psalm was repeated to her, and she raised her hand at each sentence, indicating that the confidence in God which is the theme of that beautiful portion of Scripture, and the other blessings which it enumerates, were all her own. When inquiry was made respecting her prospect of heaven, her answer was, "I have neither fear nor doubt: Christ is precious!" It was remarked to her, that her husband would feel her loss very much she replied, "The Lord will be his stronghold." Family worship being conducted at her request in her room, she responded to the petitions as usual. Indeed, her language, while she could articulate, was prayer and praise; and when the power of speaking was lost, the lifting up of her hand and the imperfectly-whispered ejaculation, before receiving food or medicine, evinced what was passing in the mind. On the 23d she was quite sensible, but no longer able to speak: her countenance, however, retained to the last its heavenly tranquillity. On Wednesday morning, June 24th, 1846, having nearly completed her eighty-fourth year, she calmly resigned her spirit into the hands of Him who had redeemed her. 686 BRIEF BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 21. DIED, April 1st, 1846, at Burton-Leonard, in the Ripon Circuit, aged twenty-eight, Mr. John Vasey. Of him it may be truly said, that from a child he knew the holy Scriptures, which are able to make wise unto salvation, through faith in Christ Jesus. When between twelve and thirteen years of age, he experienced deep convictions of sin, and with great earnestness sought the Lord for the mercy which a sinner needs. His prayer was heard, and, through the exercise of faith in the atonement, he received pardon, and was enabled to look up to God as his reconciled Father and covenant Friend. At the same time he began to meet in class, and continued a steady, exemplary member of the Wesleyan society to the end of his life. His mental talents were above mediocrity, and his friends urged him both to improve and exercise them. He believed it to be his duty to call sinners to repentance as a Wesleyan Local Preacher; and having his name placed on the Circuit-Plan, he devoted himself to his work with zeal, diligence, and fidelity, and laboured not only acceptably, but usefully. He had been a Local Preacher about six years, when it pleased God to call him to a very different branch of service; to the service of severe and protracted suffering, in which, instead of having to do the will of God in toilsome but pleasing labours, he had to be laid aside, and in comparative inactivity to bear it. In the former part of his affliction, he was occasionally somewhat disturbed by inward temptations; but he found help through prayer and faith, and, throughout a long season of trial, his mind was preserved in great peace. To one of his relations, who was conversing with him concerning his spiritual state, he said, "I feel that I am on the right foundation, and that I can say with the Apostle, that for me to live is Christ, and to die is gain." Some time before he died, he observed one of the family weeping on his account. He instantly said,— "And will you mourn to see A fellow prisoner free? He thus continued, quoting another verse, "There I shall bathe my weary soul In seas of heavenly rest; And not a wave of trouble roll Across my peaceful breast." His illness was very lingering. Wearisome days and sleepless nights were appointed for him. But he was enabled "in patience to possess his soul." It was evident that he was ripening for a better world. As his constitution was strong, his friends feared either that his sufferings would be long continued before nature gave way, or that the final struggle would be a severe one. But in this respect his heavenly Father dealt very gently with him. Death came at length |