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she felt she stood in need; it showed her the all-sufficiency of the redemption which he had purchased, and the absolute freeness of the offer of salvation which was made in his name. She saw that what she had been vainly attempting, by an imperfect obedience, to work out for herself, had been already accomplished for her by the death of Christ; and that nothing remained for her to do but to embrace, with all her heart and soul, the Gospel invitation. On the "joy" which this delightful discovery occasioned, or on the "peace" which she afterwards experienced "in believing," it is unnecessary to enlarge.

Mary now felt as if she had been introduced into a new world; her hopes, fears, affections, and desires, had undergone so complete a change. I could not ascertain that from this time she ever entertained even a passing doubt of her interest in Christ. Her faith was of that simple kind which is content to take the Redeemer at his word; and to rest assured that he is able to do all that he has promised. "I know," she could say with truth, "whom I have believed; and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day."

In the autumn of 1827, Mary became affected with inflammation of the lungs, which having been neglected in the first instance, speedily laid the foundation of a lengthened and hopeless disease. After some weeks, she became a patient of the Dispensary, when she was found to exhibit all the symptoms of confirmed decline. She bore her sufferings with resignation and fortitude; and her medical attendant, in the hope of arresting the progress of her disease, had recourse to a variety of treatment, sometimes of a painful nature. Having at length, however, satisfied himself that her complaints were beyond the reach of medicine, he felt it to be his duty to tell his patient her real situation. Would that all medical men were as honest, and that all patients were as well prepared to receive such intelligence! Mary heard the information with the utmost composure. The hectic flush on her cheek was

neither increased nor diminished by a single shade; and she replied, in a tone of perfect serenity, "I have been thinking so myself for a considerable time, and I am resigned to whatever may be the Lord's pleasure." From this period her disease made slow but steady progress. At the end of each successive week, it was remarked that her debility had increased; but it was a source of unspeakable consolation to those about her to perceive, that while her "outward man" decayed, her "inward man was renewed day by day." The unshaken fortitude with which she was enabled to contemplate the approach of the last enemy, was very striking. She seemed to regard death in no other light than that of a friendly messenger about to call for her, to convey her home to her Father's house.

Her nights were then spent without sleep; but until a very short time of her death, she never expressed a wish for any one to sit up with her. "She had every thing beside her," she said, "which her situation required; and never felt lonely, for she knew that her Saviour was always present with her. When she could not sleep, she could read; when she could not read, she could meditate; and when she could not meditate, she could pray." How truly was that Scripture fulfilled, "My grace is sufficient for thee; for my strength is made perfect in weakness!"

During the seventeen weeks of her illness, she continued to exhibit the same pattern of Christian meekness and resignation. She was visited by many of the disciples of her Lord, who contributed to her comfort in various ways. Some read to her, some conversed, and others prayed with her; nor were there wanting those who, feeling themselves unable to do more, thought it a privilege to hand her "a cup of cold water" in the Redeemer's name. The writer of this brief memorial visited her, perhaps, more frequently than any one, and always with benefit to himself. Often, indeed, he has passed her dwelling, when he had not leisure to call; and glancing up at the little square window which lighted her apartment, has in

wardly thanked God on her behalf, that whether alone, or encircled by sympathizing friends, she was animated by that "peace of God which passeth all understanding."

Her medical attendant was a man who feared God; but his assistant, though kind and attentive to her, was a despiser of religion. With this circumstance Mary was not altogether unacquainted, and there is reason to believe that her supplications for him at the throne of grace were frequent and fervent. May her prayers be answered in God's own time; and may he, when placed in circumstances similar to hers, experience the consolations of that Gospel which he now despises !

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At length the period appointed by her Divine Master for Mary's release arrived. On the day before she died, the writer saw her for the last time. Her breathing was then much oppressed, her pulse tremulous and feeble. The hand of death was evidently upon her; but her spirit was calm and untroubled. She felt and knew that the time of her departure was come; but having "fought a good fight," and "kept the faith,” she experienced the joyful assurance of the apostle, that there was "laid up for her a crown of righteousness. She could only speak at intervals, and her sentences were frequently broken; but she expressed the peaceful and happy state of her feelings in a manner not to be misunderstood. The gradual decay of her bodily vigour might be compared to the ebbing tide of a summer evening, slow, yet abundantly perceptible to the eye while the expression of her faith and confidence in her glorified Redeemer resembled the sunbeams trembling on the waves, which, though their brightness be alternately heightened and obscured by the changing surface of the deep, proceed from an orb of unvarying brilliancy, about to set indeed for a season, but to rise in renovated lustre on the ensuing morning.

When the writer took his leave, he promised to call again next day; but in the mean time, the happy spirit had bid farewell to earthly things, and begun to taste

those "pleasures for evermore," which are at God's "right hand."

Thus lived and thus died Mary N——, a humble and simple follower of the Lamb of God. Scarce known beyond the little neighbourhood in which she resided, even there the remembrance of her is fast passing away. In a few months more, the turf which covers her remains will cease to be distinguishable from the grass which surrounds it. But in that day, when "the Son of Man shall come in his glory," this meek and patient disciple shall not be forgotten. Clothed with a white robe, and with a palm in her hand, she shall stand before the throne of her Redeemer; and while millions of those whom the world esteemed, shall say to the mountains and rocks, "Fall on us, and hide us!" she shall be welcomed by the title of "Good and faithful servant," and invited to "enter into the joy of her Lord."


"The harvest is passed, the summer is ended, and we are not saved."

Reader, have you ever seriously thought upon these solemn words? If you have not, then let me persuade you to do so now. If you have, so much the better— you are to some degree prepared to do so again. The doctrine which I derive from them is this: there are some particular seasons in life that may be termed the harvest or summer of man's spiritual being, the neglect or misimprovement of which causes one after another of the stars of hope to go out, until at last he is left in the midnight darkness of despair.

To see this doctrine clearly, let me present before your mind some few of the seasons spoken of, in sketching the life of a character not very uncommon. We will commence the outline at the fourth year of his He is the son of Christian parents. He has been instructed by them upon the great subjects of which


the Bible treats. Particularly have they explained to him the precepts of the Gospel. He has been taught that he has sinned against his Maker, God-that he naturally possesses a disposition the reverse of what the Gospel requires-that he must love God, and love to pray to him. And the mother takes him into her room, and explains to his little mind the necessity of his giving God his heart, and how he is to do this: and now they kneel down together and pray for his salvation. Again and again this is done. Now it is one of the harvest times of his being-one of the seasons most favorable to his conversion. But, alas! time passes on, and no change is perceived in his conduct-his life gives no evidence that he is adopted into the family of God. One star has ceased to glitter in the firmament of hope. Years have passed away, and the child has become a young man. His parents still live. He is yet residing with them, and daily receives their counsel and admonition. All the powerful influences which a religious family exert upon an impenitent member of it, are urging him to repent and be converted. Morning and evening the word of God is carefully read, and the family altar receives its customary oblationthey bow down, parents and children, and the voice of the father is heard, breathing an earnest prayer for the converting and sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit to be given to all his household. A thousand nameless acts are seen by the son, little in themselves it is true, yet all tending to awaken his attention to the deathless interests of his soul. The conversation he hears upon the spiritual enjoyments and condition of others in the family; the reverential manner in which they ever speak of sacred things; the feeling remarks which are not unfrequently addressed to himself; added to various other circumstances that need not be named, often cause him to think seriously of the weighty claims of the gospel, and, at times, almost resolve practically to acknowledge them. The present is another of his harvest times. Yet it passes away without any improvement, and he goes from his father's

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