I THINK, Mr. Editor, the history of E. M. was brought down to her being confined to that bed from which she was never to rise again. And it is pleasing to reflect, that the nearer her end approached, the more satisfactory and edifying was the nature of her religious experience and deportment. She evidently "grew in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." Perhaps one reason that we were more pleased and satisfied with those manifestations of true piety which were so apparent in her, was because she became more familiar and open with those Christian friends who kindly visited her, and thus more of her internal feelings became known. In my visits to her, I found that they became more interesting and satisfactory from the confidence which she gradually acquired of speaking her mind. And I say not thus much because I blame her for her modesty and diffidence; indeed, I commend her, and regard such traits of character as stamping a value upon every thing she said, because they shewed that her piety was not mere profession, but was the result of deep conviction, and intimately connected with internal feeling. One circumstance will particularly shew to what an extent this diffidence and modesty was carried. You will remember, Mr. Editor, that she was only turned of eleven years of age. Now she had for some time greatly desired to be a partaker of the holy communion: but yet she was prevented from making known her desire, for fear that I should think her too young; and, consequently, some time expired before I was acquainted with the workings of her mind upon the subject. However, seeing it her duty to receive the memorials of a Saviour's dying love, she intended, the next time I came to see her, to

mention the subject to me; but when I next called her resolution failed her, and she allowed me to depart without being enabled to tell me what it was that chiefly occupied her thoughts. I myself felt that there was wanting a desire of the kind; and, indeed, without it I should not have thought so satisfactorily of her piety; but, then, it was my wish that this request should come spontaneously from herself, without any hint being given to her by any one: but at this time I knew not that her diffidence was so great as to prevent her mentioning a subject which would have rejoiced me very much. This diffidence again and again prevented her from mentioning this interesting subject to me: and as she found her own resolution to fail her, she then besought her mother to inform me of her wishes; but even then the subject was delayed, in consequence of her very tender age. But about ten days before she died, I went in, and found her very ill, and indeed began to fear that her end was decidedly near at hand; it seemed apparent to all that she might not live out the following day. As this visit of mine was upon a Saturday, I thought it probable that I might not see her again, as I knew that I should be professionally engaged all the next day. I then besought her, that, if she had any particular request to make to me, she would then make it known, for that I was fearful I might never see her again in this world. She then very attentively looked at her mother, as much as to say, "Mother, do speak for me, for you see I can't speak for myself." Her mother then told me what was her great desire respecting the sacrament. I said, that I was very glad to hear it; that it was the very thing I had been anxious about myself, but wished the request to come first from her. I

then asked her, what were her views respecting the sacrament; upon which she was silent, evidently wishing me to converse upon the subject. I then asked her if she wished to receive it as a kind of meetness for heaven, thinking that then she should be better prepared. She gave her answer in a very expressive and animated manner: "Oh no!" thereby inferring that she had no such views respecting the holy communion. I then endeavoured, as briefly as I could, to explain to her the nature of the sacrament; it being instituted the night previous to our Lord's sufferings, and appointed to be observed by us as a memorial of his death until he come again, &c. &c. I then asked her, if she wished to receive it because Christ had commanded us to receive it, she said, "Yes." Indeed, to all the questions I put to her upon this subject she gave me the most satisfactory answer. But I was well convinced from the first that her views were correct and scriptural respecting this solemn ordinance: at least she was well acquainted with our entire depravity by nature, and therefore was far from building up a system of good works, which was to be perfected by a participation of the memorials of a Saviour's dying love. Christ's blood and righteousness were her only dependence, her only plea for heaven. In short, I never discovered any leaning to or dependence upon her own works and deservings, though she was a very virtuous and dutiful child, who had always been the joy of her parents, and never, I believed, disobeyed any of their commands, or indeed caused them scarcely a moment's uneasiness. Had she then, under these favourable circumstances, had a tendency to look with complacency upon her conduct, it might not have been wondered at considering at her tender years how very imperfect her knowledge must be. But she "had not so learned Christ."

Her

views of her own sinfulness were remarkably clear and scriptural. She knew that she could do nothing as meritorious in the sight of God, but still she wished to obey those commands of the Saviour which he had enjoined upon his disciples; and she perceived that an attendance upon the holy communion was decidedly one of those commands. Hence arose her desire to partake of the memorials of the body and blood of Christ.

Finding that she was still alive, and much the same, as on Saturday, I called on the Monday to administer the holy communion: I found some Christian friends assembled together upon the occasion, in order to partake of it with her, I was fearful that her expectations of this sacred ordinance might be very great, and that, if they were not fully answered by an increase of heavenly affections, she might be proportionally depressed, and thus the spiritual benefit to be derived from the ordinance, in a great measure, lost. This, I doubt not, has been the case with some young converts, who, regarding the sacrament as an object of sense, rather than of faith, have not found those delightful effects to follow which they expected, and which they would have experienced had they approached the Lord's table with more simple faith in Christ Jesus. Accordingly, before I commenced the service, I remarked, that what we were about to do was simply an act of faith;-that the partaking of the outward sign of bread and wine could, of course, be no more beneficial to our souls than as they were received by faith. This preface I regarded as necessary, because I wished her to derive all the consolation this divine ordinance is calculated to impart, and at the same time free from every thing that had an illusive tendency. In administering this ordinance to her I was not aware of one circumstance, or indeed forgot it at the time, and which seems to have been provi

her, she commenced her important task of teaching him: but a speedy and unexpected termination was put to her benevolent exertions in this department; for, at this very first lesson, the poor man's feelings were so overcome at the thought of his own child, only eleven years of age, endeavouring to teach him to read, that he wept outright; which deeply affected the daughter, and she wept too: all this awoke the mother, who was sleeping in the same room; and when she saw the daughter weeping in the father's arms, much exhausted, and consequently impeded in her health, she considered herself obligated to lay an interdict upon any farther teaching of the father to read.

With regard to death, she had no fear whatever; and neither could I awaken any-for, fearing that her conduct in this respect might arise from apathy or ignorance, I endeavoured to prepare her for the last trying scene. Thus, I represented death to her as a grim tyranta monster, who rushed upon his prey, who was the great enemy of man, and even in the very act of his approach was truly terrific-and in some other terms, which I thought were likely to rouse her fears, if she possessed any. I then asked her, if there was not cause to fear such an enemy? she most placidly answered, "No." I then asked her, Why? she said, Because Christ had taken away his sting, And to a school-fellow she said, that she was not afraid to die, because she believed that her sins were washed away by the blood of Christ. Such was the confidence, the scriptural confidence, which this child entertained concerning death.

But, Mr. Editor, I must leave off; though, to assure you that I do not do it for want of materials, must tell you, that, if I had not

been afraid of wearying you and your readers' patience, I would have enclosed you the concluding part of the funeral sermon which I preached on the day of her burial, which happened to be on a Sunday. However, one word more as to her death, which approached as gradually as possible; for, for the last two or three days, it was thought every moment might be her last. I saw her till the evening before she died, and observed the same calm composure and resignation which she had hitherto manifested. I had thought, that, because there was, as has been said, a ripeness in her views and experience, her end perhaps might be very joyful, if not triumphant; but the nature of her disorder prevented this. But this is not at all necessary in the death of a believer in Christ: she left sufficient evidence behind her that she is gone to be with Him who said, " They that seek me early shall find me." I think it was the last time I saw her that I said to her, "You seem to me to possess perfect peace, but nothing more: she answered, "Yes, perfect peace, but nothing more."

In this manner departed one of the little lambs of my flock-one of the chief ornaments of our Sunday school. The manner of her death has diffused a kind of fragrance amongst us, that will long cause her memory to be held dear by all who witnessed the graces of the Holy Spirit in her; for we must again distinctly state, that we attribute no good to her; neither would she permit it, if her happy spirit could witness these lines: no, we attribute every good that was in her to the love of Him who thus shews the sovereignty and freeness of his grace in "hiding these things from the wise and prudent, and revealing them unto babes."