any advantage over her in the moments of dissolution. Her friend having that morning read a memoir in the Evangelical Magazine, of an eminent minister whose experience was, in this respect, the same, but who died triumphing in the Lord, related this circumstance to her. She seemed to be much comforted by it; and he left her in a more happy frame. She was able to go down stairs till the day of her death, when she found herself so weak, as left no doubt in her mind that her end was come. She had previously arranged her little valuables, to which she had affixed marks how they were to be disposed of, and now gave directions accordingly. After having had her dear parents, and brothers, and sisters called to her bedside, she very affectionately addressed them upon the vanity of the world, the importance of religion, &c. and took a long, alast farewel of each. Then, with a countenance expressive of the sweet serenity of her mind, and which also demonstrated that her former fears were only the suggestions of that great adversary of souls who seeks to distress whom he cannot destroy, she lifted up her eyes and said, " Lord Jesus now receive my spirit, for I am ready!" Her friends and attendants witnessed her departure with mingled sorrow and admiration. According to her request, the solemn occasion was improved by the above friend, in a sermon delivered in the Methodist Chapel, at Relington, on Sunday, October 21, 1804, from Rev. xiv. 13. Green Hammerton. J. JACKSON. We understand that a pamphlet will shortly appear, containing the diary of this lady for the last nine months of her life, together with outlines of her character. The world is fill'd with disputations vain, And strife of clam'rous tongues, which To call in question heav'n-taught mysteries, And bid defiance to the Tri-une God! Wake, sleeper, wake, and from the yawning tomb, Awe the proud whirlwind, calm th' impetuous wave, When shall he join thy blest adorers here, And shine, amidst immortal saints, a saint? Poor lonely tenant of a frame decay'd, Thy shatter'd prison cannot hold thee long. The months unwearied roll; the hour will come: Thou must endure and Basil must submit. Or 'ere thy soul had mourn'd its dearest friend, Or Time had silver'd o'er thy rev'rent head To Christ, thy life, thy doctrine, all was giv'n, Did not grief then grow romante, One, one dear, one only child. But before the green moss peeping His poor mother's grave array'd, In that grave, the infant sleeping On the mother's lap was laid. Horror then, your heart congealing, Chill'd you with intense despair: Can you recollect the feeling? No! there was no feeling there! From that gloomy trace of sorrow, When you woke to pangs unknown How unwelcome was the morrow, For it rose on YOU ALONE! Sunk in self-consuming anguish, Can the poor heart always achel No, the tortured nerve will languish, Or the strings of life must break. O'er the yielding brow of sadness, One faint smile of comfort stole; One soft pang of tender gladness Exquisitely thrill'd your soul. While the wounds of woe are healing, While the heart is all resign'd, 'Tis the solemn feast of feeling, 'Tis the sabbath of the mind. Pensive memory then retraces Scenes of bliss for ever fled, Lives in former times and places, Holds communion with the dead. And, when night's prophetic slumbers Rend the veil to mortal eyes, The angels sigh'd for fellowship with thee:From their tombs, the sainted numbers Christ will'd and rais'd his Basil to the skies! OSSIAN. "THE JOY OF GRIEF." From Montgomery's Poems. Sweet the hour of tribulation, When the heart can freely sigh: And the tear of resignation Twinkles in the mournful eye. Have you felt a kind emotion Tremble through your troubled breast; Soft as evening o'er the ocean, When she charms the waves to rest? Have you lost a friend, a brother? Heard a father's parting breath? Gazed upon a lifeless mother, Till she seem'd to wake from death? Have you felt a spouse expiring In your arms, before your view? Watch'd the lovely soul retiring From her eyes, that broke on you? Of our lost companions rise. You have seen a friend, a brother, Heard a dear dead father speak; Proved the fondness of a mother, Felt her tears upon your cheek! Dreams of love your grief beguiling, You have clasp'd a consort's charms, And received your infant smiling From his mother's sacred arms. Trembling, pale, and agonising, Thither all your wishes bending BIOGRAPHY, The life of Dr. Robert Smith, VOL. II. on the affairs of the world, 268 1 Death bed of a modern free thinker, 366 |