WATCHING THE WORK.

I shall the God of life adore,
And all the bliss of being know?
Will Jesus, as my surety, place
Before his Father's glorious throne
Me, as an heir of sovereign grace,
Me, as his own adopted one?

He will! I read it in his word,
And in my heart the witness feel;
I shall be with and like my Lord,

Though sin oppose, in league with hell."

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In the midst of her own suffering, and in these parting days, she could deeply sympathise with those she knew and loved. Anxiously did she enquire for and listen to the reports of the bodily affliction and spiritual chastening, of several who were now laid low in body but raised high in soul by the Great Physician. Well do I recall her face brightening as I told her of some who, through personal and relative trouble, had been constrained to speak of that inward peace which, wrought by Divine teaching, passeth all human understanding. The following letter (the last she ever wrote) was to one who had been brought through a dangerous "time of trouble" :

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BURDENS IN THE VALLEY.

"My dear Sister,

Cheshunt, Nov. 24th, 1853.

"I was thankful for Thomas's letter, and to hear of your welfare; although your babe did not live, and you had so bad a time: but, oh, my dear sister, the Lord has spared your life, bless and praise His holy name. You are a monument of His mercy, and I will bless the Lord with your dear husband and self.

"Who is a God like unto our God? He will never leave us, never forsake us, though we are so forgetful of Him, and unmindful of His mercies towards us. I trust you will go on, and on, and do well: though your heavenly Father has taken the babe, you must think it is all for the best. I am keeping to my bedroom, as the severe cold affects my breath. I hope you will excuse more, for I soon get tired of writing. "Samuel and Mrs. B- unite with me in love. "From your affectionate sister, SARAH BLAND."

On the morning of the day before her dissolution a friend visited her, who had within a month previous parted with her partner (a valued deacon of our church), and on her bidding farewell, she exclaimed, "O may I have so abundant an entrance as was granted to your dear husband."

In the afternoon, a great struggle appeared to be going forward in her soul, as of a striving to give up the dear bonds of earth, and drop into a Saviour's arms. While, with peaceful thoughts she could follow the happy spirit of her sleeping babe, and calmly say, "She is only gone a little while before her mother;" she could not but think of those left behind, and then, with all a mother's love the words broke forth, "Oh, it is my ties, it is my children!"

Now, also, her cough, weakness, and obstruction of throat grew more distressing. After one of these paroxysms her mother observed to her, "He was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. His face was so marred more than any man, and His form more than the sons of men." "Yes," she replied "I think of that,―did my Lord suffer and shall I repine?" and then, laying her hands upon her own wasted body, continued, "I can tell all my bones."-Ps. xxii. 17.

When I returned home in the evening, I found all the painful symptoms aggravated, and constant perspirations wasting her little remnant of strength. I sat by her side for about two hours, wiping the moisture from her face as it stood out in a thick cold shower, and, as her strength and my full heart

I

allowed, holding sweet though mournful converse of the world to come. During this time she evidently felt her span of life contracting, but quietness and assurance possessed her soul. After some pause I heard her whisper the words "wings-wings," then breathing heavily, she repeated the whole verse,

"Give me the wings of faith to rise
Within the veil, and see

The saints above, how great their joys,
How bright their glories be!"

The trembling emotion of my soul prevented my replying, but my mother sitting near took up the language, and went through the sweet hymn. Graciously did the dear sufferer unite in a whispered echo and fervent pressure of the hand, while her whole being seemed to stand expectant on the borders of that land.

After lifting her into bed she rested a while, and then, seeing the family seated around, she quietly said, "They are waiting for you, dear." Knowing her meaning, I enquired, "Are you able to bear my reading?" To this she replied, "Oh yes, a little." I opened the book at the 14th chapter of John; but, without her knowing this, I asked

OVER THE FLOOD.

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if there was any particular portion she wished read. Pausing a few moments, she looked at me with earnest meaning, and with wonderful sympathy replied, "Let not YOUR heart be troubled." It was her last word of Scripture exhortation. Oh! for Divine help to obey and prove its value! I read the first fourteen verses of that chapter, and if ever Bible words appeared good words, it was in that solemn hour. I then knelt down and poured out the desires of my poor tossed soul before the Lord; feeling an unspeakable awe upon my mind. Nowise apprehending, however, her immediate dissolution, I now bid her good night, nor can I ever lose the memory of the quiet fervency of her "good night, love," as she followed me with her eyes to the door. This was about midnight, and the next hour I spent in solitary musing and saddened thoughts, still relieved with the conviction that nothing was too hard for the Lord.

Soon after four o'clock in the morning, I was awakened from a confused slumber and was hurried into her room.

Surely my heart alone knew its own bitterness as I gazed upon that precious form, speechless, and unconscious, breathing hardly and slowly.