over her feelings, which added much to the graces of her character, and which was not laid aside when she became the mistress of an elegant competence.

The person to whose solicitation she gave her hand, was not, at the time of their marriage, prepared to sympathize with her in her solicitude for the welfare of the Redeemer's kingdom. The question of duty in such cases, I shall not stop here to discuss. The writer of this happens to know, however, that this subject was not passed over so easily by his deceased friend; and he happens to know likewise that her bereaved husband thinks he understands what the apostle meant by an unbelieving husband being sanctified by a believing wife. Yet this may be no rule for others. On entering upon the duties of the domestic relation, she performed them with so much affectionate kindness and sympathy-making her duty her happiness to such a degree, that his heart yielded homage to the power of Religion. His admiration of it was likewise heightened by her conversations on the subject evincing much taste, knowledge, sincerity and judgment. He saw its power also in her treatment of domestics. She was not content with permitting her servants to attend the means of religious instruction at the sanctuary and places for social prayer, when it was not convenient for herself to attend. She did not seem to think that servants were necessarily removed from the pale of human sympathies, nor that it was inconsistent with her dignity to treat them as rational and immortal beings. Besides her own affectionate treatment of her servants, and conversation with them on the subject of their soul's salvation, she often permitted them to attend places of religious instruction, when they knew that it was inconvenient for their mistress to spare them, and that it was done solely for their good. Such demonstrations of the reality of religion accompanied by, or rather the evidences of, her prayers, her husband did not resist. At what period of their union she had the satisfaction of seeing him her Redeemer's friend, I do not now recollect. The union itself was not destined to be long. For a year previous to its dissolution, and somewhat more than four years from its commencement, seldom, if ever, was there one of greater promise of happiness. They were parents, and rarely were parent's affections lavished on lovelier objects. The youngest, a daughter at this time about eight months old, and her brother, a little more than two years her senior, were objects not only calculated to draw forth all the deep affections of a fond mother's heart, but the infantine loveliness of the one, and the noble, frank and affectionate qualities of the other were so evident, that if a stranger looked on them and turned away his gaze, it was but to gaze again. They had, too, ample means for doing good, and hearts to feel the blessedness of charities bestowed and acts of kindness done.

But the cloud was already in the distance which was soon to spread blackness over this fair prospect. Shortly after the period of which I have just now been speaking, symptoms of disease began to show themselves; not formidable at first, but they soon increased to such an extent that it was deemed expedient for her to leave the duties of her home and visit the scenes and friends of her childhood, from which she had been separated since her marriage. Accordingly in the summer of 1833, she, with her two little children, visited among her old acquaintance. The pleasurable excitement of

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the scenes, and the gratifying attentions of her friends, seemed to promise complete success. After staying among them two or three months, she returned to her husband so much improved as to give flattering hopes of speedy restoration to sound health. But the promise was deceitful. Not long after, her disease assumed a more threatening aspect. All that the tenderest affection could prompt, was done to check its progress, but in vain. The disease had not yet assumed a name, though her physician had some time before this expressed his fears of what it might be. When he saw all his skill baffled, he asked for the ablest counsel of that vicinity. It is needless to say it was granted. Before the time appointed for the assembling of the council, fearing lest the affection of her husband for her would prompt him to conceal from her the true state of her case, she exacted from him a promise that he would faithfully reveal to her the report of the physicians. After consultation they pronounced her in the last stage of the quick consumption. Blessed be the Divine Redeemer in whose strength she confided! She was strengthened for the worst. Though no complaint had been suffered to escape from her lips, in a few instances the workings of the strong feelings of the wife and mother were thought to be perceptible. When her husband related to her the hopeless opinion of the physicians, she received it without the least surprize. Shortly after she apparently fell asleep. It was so gentle, her husband, not wishing any disturbance, sat by her alone. In the course of a half or three fourths of an hour, her very quietness began to alarm him, fearing that she might be already sleeping the sleep of death. He gently touched her, when she opened her eyes, and turning their sweet expression on him, said—“ I have not been asleep, my dear but oh! such visions of blessedness as I have been enjoying since you thought me sleeping, it is not lawful for the tongue to utter! I have been strengthened for my last conflict. I am now enabled to give up fully and freely my husband and children, for whom alone I have desired to live, to the disposal of my Savior. I have now no desire for this life, after tasting the bliss of that upon which I am shortly to enter." She then, after endeavoring to strengthen the faith and consolation of her husband to sustain him under her loss, confided to his affectionate care their little children, expressing her wish that their son, who gave such early and fair promise, might be trained up in the way he might best serve the Redeemer of the world, to whose service she had in secret consecrated him. She next left messages for her sisters, brothers and other near friends, and ere the setting of another sun, her spirit had taken its triumphant flight.

"Is that a death-bed where a christian lies?
Yes, but not her's-'tis death itself there dies."

The weary of the world may seek death as an oblivion to all their troubles and disquietudes. The infidel philosopher in the strength of his pride may meet it without apparent fear; and disease too, may and often does render us insensible to many of the enjoyments of this life, and deadens all apprehensions of the next. But what disease short of absolute deprivation of reason, can destroy the strong and vivid affections of an attached wife and a fond mother towards her

beloved husband and children? No, nothing but the power of religion can enable a heart, surrounded with all that can make life desirable, and endued with a keen susceptibility for their relish, to bid them a cheerful, a joyful farewell.

Should this relation meet the eyes of the surviving, bereaved husband, he is assured, that it has been given with no design of intruding upon the sacredness of private grief, which he cannot now but feel towards the object he has lost. Ah, who that knew her will soon forget her? It has been given solely (and he will pardon the motive) with the design of impressing with the strength of a comparatively recent example, that class of community for whom this work is designed, with the importance of an active living principle of piety to regulate their conduct and be the source of their consolation and support under the trials which may await them. Amid the numerous avocations of life, the pursuits of ambition, wealth and pleasure, men still find an unsatisfied want. How much more necessary is religion for those, all of whose duties and pleasures lie within the narrow confines of the domestic world. These have not the almost endless variety of the great world before them as objects for the mind and heart to choose. They hazard their all on one cast and if they fail here, where shall they go for happiness or support, save to the principles and power of religion? In adversity will they seek refuge in the callousness of insensibility? Even misery itself can hardly afford a worse.

One thought suggested by the charge the deceased left, respecting her little son, will close this sketch. It is in the quiet retreat of home while the mind is yet ductile that characters are moulded and principles instilled which are rather hardened and rendered firm than obliterated by the rough exposures and collisions of busy life. The beautiful and touching anecdote which the late eccentric Randolph has left on record respecting the influence of his mother's early religious instruction, in preserving him from infidelity has been made known too recently and too extensively to need a repetition here. It is doubted still whether any pious mother knows more than a mite of the extent of the influence of her early instructions and example over the subsequent life and conduct of her son. The revelations of the great day when the secrets of all hearts shall be made known, will reveal to her a blessedness of which she now scarcely conceives. She will then know more fully how often her son has been checked amid the boisterous shoutings of midnight revelry, by the thought creeping over him silently and imperceptibly, that he has ever been the object of a mother's prayers that he might be kept in the paths of virtue. Or even if her son be a professor of religion, the lone lamp may be seen late at night burning in his chamber feeding the flame of an unholy ambition, while he is bending over the classic page, fired by literary pleasures and a desire for literary fame, and he too may be checked in his temptation by the same still influence. This is the secret of a mother's influence over her son. Let her impress the idea early on his mind that she is a woman of habitual prayer and her influence will not only be lasting, but will be well nigh omnipresent.

T.