rod and staff will comfort you.' Then, in a moment, fearing lest I should feel uneasy, he added, 'But I believe I shall get better again.' "He was truly grateful for every little attention paid to him, and always fearful of giving the slightest unnecessary trouble; and cheerful to the very last, not long before he died, he tried to sing, 'Oh, to grace how great a debtor Bind my wandering heart to Thee.' "A friendly call from a neighbouring clergyman, the Rev. T. Vores, was a great comfort to him; and when he was gone, with a feeling of deep humility, he expressed his gratitude for the kind visit. "For the last two days his bodily sufferings were very great, but his faith and love were still greater; and his almost inaudible voice was em ployed, at intervals, in prayer and praise, and in encouraging those about him to 'look upwards.' 'We shall meet again,' he said to me with a smile. "An hour before his happy spirit took its flight to glory, the Rev. John Cox, of Woolwich, called to see him; he accompanied me to my beloved husband's bed-side. It was a solemn season; we all knelt down, and the pious servant of God offered up a sweet and fervent prayer for the poor sufferer, then in his last agony. We afterwards stood around his bed in perfect silence. In a little time his countenance became unusually calm; his mild blue eyes were turned towards heaven, and the expression of his dying face was sweet in the extreme-so calm and peaceful. It appeared to me that he was gazing on what we could not see; that he had a glimpse of the happy spirits, who were already hovering around him, and waiting to convey his freed spirit to glory. There was a look of rapturous surprise in the eye, and a transient smile passed over the lip, that seemed to say, 'I am coming, I am coming.' Not till his under lip began to fall, were we aware that the soul had departed. We again knelt down, and the kind minister earnestly prayed that support and consolation might be granted to the poor survivor who had lost her dearest and best earthly friend. "Never shall I forget that impressive scene. Oh! may we all seek for Divine guidance, to enable us so to live, that we, too, may die the death of the righteous, and that our last end may be like his. 'Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints,' Psa. cxvi. 15. "I have indeed been highly privileged, in having had such an affectionate husband, companion, and friend; and though painful to be the survivor, I feel thankful that my life has been spared to add to his comfort to the last. The Lord has wonderfully supported me hitherto, and will, I hope, increase my faith and confidence in him, and enable me, like my beloved husband, to go on my way with cheerful resignation, endeavouring to rejoice in his goodness and mercy.” Mr. Mogridge departed this life, November 2, 1854, aged sixty-seven. It is scarcely necessary to add to the preceding affecting account; but the following particulars are not without a value, as showing the impressions made on the minds of those not of his household, who were privileged to visit the dying believer in his last hours. A Christian lady, resident at Hastings, in describing her interview, says: "A rich vein of piety, sentiment, and deep reflection, ran through his whole conversation. He told us that he had been brought down to the portals of the grave to have the bands loosened which too strongly attached him to earth, there to learn perfect acquiescence in the Divine will, and there to experience how sure was the support in the hour of anticipated dissolution, and how soft at such a moment were those 'everlasting arms,' which had borne him so calmly and so safely through the tempest-tossed ocean of life. He expatiated largely on the kindness of God, in 'filling the hearts of so many with love to Him.' And as the tear of gratitude glistened in the eye, whilst the fingers were involuntarily lifted to wipe it away, beneath the spectacles, we could not but feel that truly 'the law of love was on his lips, and the law of kindness in his heart:' the peace of God was in his soul-the highest, most ennobling, and exalting pleasure his below the skies, and his the rich reward, the crown of glory above." The Rev. John Cox has furnished an interesting account of his interview in the chamber of death :-"On visiting a well-known wateringplace, to spend a few days with an esteemed friend, I was informed by her that Mr. Mogridge, commonly known as 'Old Humphrey,' was staying there in a very ill state of health, and that it was feared he would not long survive. He had been out twice for a ride with my friend, and had enjoyed the scenery beyond what might have been expected from the state of his health; but now he was unable to leave his room. We visited him, but he was too ill to be seen. I called a day or two after; he was still worse. The next day, November 2, I went to inquire, and was introduced to his chamber; he was evidently sinking fast; the restlessness of death was upon him. Amidst gentle moans, expressive of agony, arising from great difficulty of breathing, we could distinguish the words, 'Lord,' 'mercy.' I repeated to him some passages of Scripture, and engaged in prayer. From his manner we supposed that he entered into the petitions offered; but he had nearly done with prayer, and within half-an-hour after, as if dropping into a peaceful slumber, his gentle and sanctified spirit passed away without our even noticing the last sigh. "As I sat at the foot of the bed amidst the stillness of the dying chamber, expecting every minute that his ransomed spirit would leave its worn out tent, as I gazed on his strongly marked, placid, yet attenuated features, at his late healthy frame, reduced to a skeleton by disease, varied thoughts and emotions passed through the heart. There lay the hand calm on his breast, which had so often wielded the pen by which so many had been instructed, pleased, encouraged, and profited. That hand was still now; it would write no more. I thought, is it that Divine grace What a mercy, took possession |