ders me any weaker, to gratify a wish which I have almost through life indulged. I have never felt much solicitude about the kind of death with which I might finish my course: one thing only I have been desirous of; which is, that I might not leave the world, without being able to make such a declaration of the mercies of God, as might encourage those who are walking in his ways, and admonish those who are not." She was going to tell her husband what was the wish she desired to gratify; but was interrupted by perceiving the tide of grief suddenly rising in his breast. They grasped each other's hand, and some minutes were spent by them both, in the silent indulgence of tears.

When this effusion had in some measure subsided, she began: "We have thought of this before; and I trust we shall both be sustained in this last conflict. To you, indeed, the hardest part of the trial is allotted. You love

me; and therefore unworthy as I am of such a regard, you will feel a loss. I have, indeed, something here, for which I could think it worth while to live. It is you. It is my children. But there is One above, for whom I can willingly leave you all, dear as you are to me. I hope to be with him. Unworthy as I am of the least of his mercies, I trust I may warrantably rejoice in him as the God of my salvation. I have endeavoured to know him. He has not suffered me to live in a state of indifference towards him. Grace has taught me what I am, and

what I want. It has taught me to look for present peace and everlasting happiness, in making the mediation of a crucified Saviour the ground of my trust, and his example the pattern of my conduct: and that grace encourages me to hope for the forgiveness of my sins, through his blood. In this hope of salvation through him, and the sense I have of my infinite obligations to the God of all grace, I rejoice in the prospect before me.

"I have a confidence in you, that sets me at ease with respect to the care necessary to be taken of my dear children; but above all, I am enabled to leave them with God. Thus, have I little to lose, in comparison of what I have to gain, by leaving this world: but you, my dear Evander! have yet to maintain the Christian conflict. Be, however, of good cheer. God is all-sufficient.

"You have often encouraged me in my religious course; permit me to make my last recompense to you in kind. God, I know, will bless you. He will keep you amidst the snares of life; direct you in all the labours and difficulties of the family; and support you in the last hour, as he does me. Then shall we meet again, I do rejoice in this expectation. I take delight in the thought of seeing you again.

"I thank you for all your tenderness, care, and kindness; for all your admonitions, reproofs, and counsels;-for all the candour with which you have interpreted my failings. I am thank

ful for the example you have been enabled to set me, and for the care you have taken of my soul. You have watched over me in this respect; and I trust, that I shall have reason, as a creature designed for a future state, ever to bless God for bringing us together." She meant to say more, but her affections weakened the power of utterance; and she, withal, saw it was too much at present for Evander. He would have replied, but the occasion allowed him no command of himself. He would have prayed, and fell on his knees, by her bedside; but stopping in the middle of the first sentence, he wept, and retired.

Religion, while it cherished all the sensibilities which adorn the man, opened resources to Evander, no stranger to the views, faith, and dispositions which form the Christian. Reflection and prayer in his closet restored to him the power of supporting another interview with Theodosia. He rejoiced with her in the prospects of everlasting felicity. He thanked her for having so well filled up her station in life; and, kneeling down, he blessed the Father of mercies for having vouchsafed to them that knowledge of himself, the influence of which had hitherto sweetened their society, and now relieved them both, under pain of sepa

ration.

When he had risen from his knees, Theodo sia expressed a desire, that all the family might be admitted into her chamber, when Pa ternus, their parish minister, should make his

visit. "For," said she, "our family worship has been one of my greatest enjoyments. I should like to join once more with all my household in this act; and if I leave it to another day, it may not be practicable." Not long after, Paternus entered the room; to whom, after the customary inquiries were answered, the proposal of Theodosia was mentioned. Paternus was pleased with it.

In a little time, all were ready. Every domestic was admitted into the chamber. The servants were arranged at some distance from the bed, but in sight of Theodosia, who was raised by pillows, supported by two of her children. Paternus began by reading a portion of the 14th chapter of St. John's gospel; to which he added a few reflections, calculated to infuse into the minds of this little congregation, a desire to "die the death of the righteous. They were preparing to conclude with a prayer, when they were desired, by Theodosia, still to keep their seats. "Paternus," said she, addressing herself to the minister, "will you permit me to interrupt you for a few moments, while I declare, in the hearing of my family, my faith in that Redeemer whom you have preached unto us?" She was desired by Paternus to proceed.

"The testimony of a dying woman," continued she, "ought to have some weight with those who hear it. I here then declare, that nothing supports me in the prospect of eternity, but faith in a crucified Saviour. On him

alone I depend for salvation. On the merits of my Redeemer I ground all my hope of future happiness. And this I declare, in the presence of my husband, children, and servants, that they may remember that what I professed through life, I rejoiced in, in death. Blessed Redeemer! accept my grateful acknowledgments of that love which led thee to die for me; and fit me to enter that society of glorified saints, who to eternity shall ascribe their salvation to him who loved them, and washed them from their sins in his own blood!* Lord, I wait for thy salvation!" Paternus then kneeled down and prayed; and thus concluded the last act of family devotion in which Theodosia joined.

Paternus retired. The servants were preparing to withdraw; but were desired to stay. Theodosia thought, that an admonition from her, in the present circumstances, might impress their minds, and be long remembered. She was unwilling that the opportunity should be lost; but there was a native modesty in her which always led her to make towards her point by delicate approaches. She chose therefore to cover her intention; which she did, by calling first one, and then another of her servants, to her bed-side, and making those kind inquiries about their health, which seemed to be occasioned merely by their being for some time invisible to her through her confine

* Rev. i. 5.