heaviest, no murmur was ever heard. Her patience was exemplary. She knew by whose hand the bitter cup was "prepared and mingled ; and, assured of his wisdom and goodness, she received it with meek submission to his will. Her Christian experience presented the same characters in sickness which had distinguished it in health. Whilst enjoying sure peace with God through our Lord Jesus, she still saw before her heights and depths to which she had not attained, and earnestly pressed forward towards them. This will be shown more clearly by an extract or two from letters written during this season of suspense and trial.

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Before she returned from Southport, near Liverpool, where she had spent the summer, she thus wrote to one of her friends :—“ You wish to know how I am getting on in good things. I trust I may say that I am in some measure growing in grace. This affliction has been sanctified, and will, I hope, continue to be so. I have often reviewed my past life, and thought on the way by which the Lord my God has been leading me. How great a mercy was it that he did not call me hence in my career of sin and folly! He is indeed long-suffering, and full of compassion. Since I have felt something of his love, how has he borne with my wanderings and backslidings in heart! When I think of these things, I feel deeply my own unworthiness. But, blessed be his name,

'I have an Advocate above,

A Friend before the throne of love."

My only confidence is in the atoning blood of Christ. In that I have an interest; and though I am for a time deprived of the communion of saints, yet, through the Saviour's merits and intercession, I am enabled to maintain sweet communion with my heavenly Father. I see more than ever the emptiness of all created good, unless it be sanctified by Him who gives it; but when we are under the delightful influence of religion, we can enjoy it rightly; we can keep it in its proper place. Without this, the world, and its most fascinating pleasures, can never satisfy an immortal soul. On our death-bed they will afford us no consolation. It is in the solemn prospect of eternity that we see and feel the real value of religion. O let us seriously reflect on these things. We know not how soon we may be called to appear at the bar of God."

To her sister she says: "O how thankful I am for what your letter tells me! My heart almost danced for joy. The Lord is doing great things for us. He is answering prayer. Let us be more than ever earnest and importunate in our petitions to the throne of grace. Othe efficacy of fervent and faithful prayer! I trust that God is with me. I feel that Christ is mine, and I am his. But there is much in me that needs renewing. I want

'A heart in every thought renew'd,

And fill'd with love divine;

Perfect, and right, and pure, and good;

A copy, Lord, of thine." "

Her Class-Leader, of whose kind attention to her she always spoke with affectionate gratitude, visited her frequently in her final illness; and has remarked, that he never saw, throughout his experience, any

person whose mind, in an illness of such duration and severity, was kept so sweetly in peace, with her confidence in God so strong and abiding, and her hope so firm and full of immortality.

In the course of conversation with a member of her family, some months before she died, she thus described her views and feelings in the solemn circumstances in which she was placed :-"I do not think that I shall recover. But I have no fear as to the result. If I live, I shall live to the Lord; if I die, I shall die to the Lord: so that, living or dying, I am the Lord's." If there were one mercy that more than another awakened the grateful emotions of her heart, it was this,— that she had been led, whilst in health, to seek and obtain the " peace which passeth all understanding." Often did she say, even in her dying moments, while her countenance declared the sincerity and earnestness of her feelings, "How thankful I am that I have not to seek religion in sickness! Without its consolation and support, what could I have done now?"

She thus continued to suffer the will of God, daily becoming weaker, till the evening of Sunday, March 19th, (1843,) when symptoms appeared indicating imminent danger. For some days previously she had not been able to leave her bed; but, thinking that she was somewhat better, she sat up for a little while. It was the last time. The effort was too much for her, and the approaches of death, though lingering, could no longer be doubted. On the Monday, her mother remarked to her that she was very ill, and that she would soon be lost to them on earth: she replied, "O yes; but it will be a consolation to you and my father to know that I am gone to a better world. I am only going a little before you. We shall soon meet again,

Far from a world of grief and sin,

With God eternally shut in.""

"Your mind, then, is free from doubt?" her mother said. "Yes," she immediately rejoined: "God has thus far been with me; and his promise is sure, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.' I feel a strong confidence that he who has been

'My Saviour in distresses past Will not now his servant leave, But bring me through at last.'"

During the three following days, she was seen to be rapidly sinking; and pain, likewise, appeared to increase, as her strength diminished. But her calmness was undisturbed. "I do not feel," she observed to her mother, "that ecstatic joy with which some are favoured; but I have a settled peace, and full confidence in God." She then, with much feeling, repeated the verse,

"But, O, when the last conflict 's o'er,
And an chain'd to earth no more,
With what glad accents shall I rise,
To join the music of the skies! "

Through the whole of Friday, her sufferings were unabated, and at night they became excruciating. Her mind was supported by grace; but it was evident that nature could sustain no more. The members of the family were called in to receive her dying farewell. She most affectionately took leave of them, exhorting them to live for God and

eternity. Her esteemed Class-Leader, who had been sent for when the hand of death had taken hold of her, prayed with her, and her earnest, though feeble responses, evinced that her heart was fully engaged. She was not able to say much after this; but what she did say, was full of consolation to her distressed and sorrowing friends. She told them that she was passing through the valley and shadow of death, but that the good Shepherd was with her.

After some repose, she exclaimed, "Praise the Lord!

'I'll praise my Maker while I've breath!'

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But here her strength failed, and she remained silent for some time. Her sister spoke of an aged friend, to whom she was going to write. Catherine desired that her love should be given to him. Tell him," she added, "that I should have been glad to see him, and that I died in the Lord." To her father she subsequently said, affectionately, and with much composure, "This is hard work, father; but it will soon be over;" adding, "All is well, all is well." These were the last words she uttered: not long afterwards, she requested by signs to be raised a little in her bed; and when this had been done, she cast án earnest, farewell look on all around her. She had looked on them for the last time on earth. Immediately, without even a sigh, she peacefully fell asleep in Christ.

She died at the residence of the family at Failsworth, March 25th, 1813.

BRIEF BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES.

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5. DIED, May 8th, 1842, at Parson-Drove, in the Wisbeach Circuit, aged twenty-five years, Mr. James Marshall. From a child he knew the holy Scriptures, and appeared seriously inclined; but he remained in a state of indecision, as to spiritual things, till the death, first of his eldest sister, and subsequently of his beloved mother. These successive family breaches operated powerfully upon his feelings, while they deeply affected even his physical frame, so that for some time his restoration to health was very doubtful; and though he was raised again for a time, yet he never fully recovered his former vigour. Upon his partial recovery to health, he returned with renewed assiduity and zeal to his self-denying efforts to promote the spread of the Redeemer's kingdom; and continued to prosecute those labours of love till the closing scene of his earthly existence. He obtained his spiritual good principally under the ministry of God's word in the Parson-Drove Wesleyan chapel; and here he realized the forgiveness of sins through faith in Christ, and joy and peace in believing. Words failed him, he often said, to express the debt of gratitude and love he owed to Christ for all He had done for him. He felt that,

"Had he a thousand souls to give,

A thousand souls should all be His."

The sole ground of his hope of heaven, he always stated, was the atonement of Christ. He had no other refuge but the cross; and his helpless soul reposed on that Saviour, who loved him, and gave himself for him. Hence under successive trials, arising from the loss of

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éndeared and valued connexions, he could look up to heaven, and say, though with a bleeding heart, "Father, not my will, but thine be done." He knew that afflictions and trials constituted the discipline of God's school, by which he trained his children for the heavenly world; and therefore he desired to lie in his hands as clay in the hands of the potter. He thus experienced, in the midst of his sorrows, the soothing, healing, and sustaining balm of divine grace. With an eminent saint, he could say, It is my business, in all events, to hang upon the Lord, with a sure trust and confidence that he will order all things in the best time and manner; for he felt it to be equally his privilege and his duty to be always ready to meet the will of God; his griefs were therefore consecrated in silence to God, whose will he was anxious at all times to perform, even though it were to pluck out a right eye, to cut off a right hand, or to lay his dearest sacrifice upon the altar. He knew that the dispensations of heaven were regulated by unerring wisdom, and infinite love; and hence he could "sing of mercy and judgment," and exclaim with pious, though trembling, resignation, "The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord." At the commencement of his last illness, he expressed entire submission to the divine appointment, though he acknowledged that he had previously to this visitation indulged, in some measure, in a sort of inward opposition to the apparently severe chastisements with which he had been visited. He observed, also, that before the death of his sister he had thought that he should never feel as she did," such a sweet acquiescence in the will of God, such á cheerful willingness to leave the world, and such an ardent desire to be gone; but," he added emphatically, "I do now;" and whenever he seemed to be somewhat better than usual, he expressed great fear lest his heart should be again engaged with the things of this life. He was anxious to be prepared for immortality, and to be always ready and waiting for his change. His uniform language seemed to be,

"Give me quietly to tarry,

Till for all thy glory meet,
Waiting, like attentive Mary,
Happy at the Saviour's feet."

His humility was deep and undissembled. He always considered himself an unprofitable servant, and gave all glory to his Saviour and Lord. Not less observable was his love to God, and therefore to his cause. This was the spring of all his activity and devotion. He took a very active part in the Sabbath-school, and cherished a lively interest in everything connected with the interests of religion in the sphere in which he moved; ever" devising liberal things" to promote

and establish them.

As he approached his latter end, he became more spiritual and heavenly; and it was evident to his relations that he was ripening for a purer and happier state. He was richer in experience, stronger in grace, and his evidences for heaven shone more brightly. In the prospect of his near departure he could exult,

"Fearless of hell and ghastly death,

I'd break through every foe;
The wings of love, and arms of faith,
Would bear me conqu'ror through."

In the last conversation the writer had with him, he found him in a peaceful and waiting frame. He seemed to have done with earth, and to be plumed for heaven. Like the great Apostle, he desired to depart, and to be with Christ, which is far better."

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At length the closing period of his life arrived. On the morning of his last day on earth, he arose at his accustomed hour, and partook of his food with his usual appetite. In the forenoon he prayed with great fervour that he might soon be dismissed from the body, and introduced into the presence of his Lord. In the afternoon, a friend inquired if he felt peaceful and resigned. He replied that he did: indeed, he appeared to be in a delightful state of mind. Shortly afterwards, while slightly coughing, a blood-vessel was ruptured; and, in a few moments, life was extinct. No opportunity was thus afforded for delivering a dying testimony; but even his testimony during life had always a solemn reference to death. To the Lord he had lived, and to the Lord he at length died. ROBERT BOND.

6. Died, December 7th, at Knottingley, in the Pontefract Circuit, Mr. John Robinson, aged fifty-six. He was a native of Hull, and at an early period of life received those divine impressions which issued in a clear conversion to God. It was his privilege and happiness to be associated with a band of pious and devoted young men in the town of Hull, in whose welfare the late revered Thomas Thompson, Esq., took a lively interest; some of whom have now laboured long and usefully in the Wesleyan ministry.

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In 1809 Mr. Robinson left Hull, to reside at Ferrybridge, in the Pontefract Circuit. In this Circuit, to the time of his death, he sued a course of exemplary labours in the church of Christ as a Local Preacher; besides holding many other important offices in the economy of Methodism. He was a man of one business, and did indeed adopt the Apostle's motto: "Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God." His eye was single, his piety deep; and he walked "in the fear of God, and in the comfort of the Holy Ghost." His love of Methodism, in its doctrines and discipline, was sincere and ardent; so that, through evil and good report, he firmly adhered to its interests: his entire conduct formed a perfect contrast to that of the men who are "given to change." So deep was his conviction of the necessity of church fellowship, in its influence on his personal salvation, that he was far from imitating the conduct of many, who for a slight offence resolve to leave the fold of Christ. Mr. Robinson was a man of the strictest integrity; and in his secular transactions he always acted so as to be irreproachable.

For several years he suffered from a complaint which gradually increased, and at length terminated his life; but almost to the last, though in a state of great weakness and pain, he attended to most of his duties in the church.

The manner in which this devoted servant of Christ finished his earthly course will long be remembered by the members of his family, and those who were privileged to attend upon him, and had the opportunity of visiting him. A person who was frequently with him during the last week of his life bears this testimony:- "Mr. Robinson reminded me strongly of what I have read respecting the last hours of that holy man, Mr. Fletcher: he also appeared to have such mani