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A person in Stalybridge, who moved my heart deeply by reverentially kissing my dear one's cold brow when she lay still in death, said :-" We felt when she came amongst us that she was our superior, but she was quite at home with us, and never made us in the least feel that we were inferior." The hold which she had upon the affections of the Stalybridge people, though they had only known her two years, positively amazed me.

Her mental powers, which were of a very superior order, were never fully done justice to. Ideality was largely developed. She was never satisfied with herself in anything that she did. She was most ambitious to be a perfect wife and mother. 31st chapter of Proverbs; she looked up when I approached and said, "that I found her one morning reading the she desired to be like the wife therein described, but she feared she never would." My honest, truthful testimony is, that she attained to that likeness.

I almost invariably read her my compositions, and I always found her criticism to be most valuable. She had considerable artistic power, and had her abilities in that way been cultivated she would have attained to some eminence with her pencil.

She loved nature in its wilder forms. The sweet violet discovered itself to her, and passionately she loved that exquisite flower. She delighted to roam in the forest glade, and pluck wild flowers and ferns. Our last walk together was in a little wood near Stalybridge, in the May of last year. Though very weak, she evinced all her girlish enthusiasm for every pretty plant and tiny flower, and we came home ladened with ferns, bluebells, wild hyacinths, &c.

The following is a brief extract from one of her letters, written four months before I lost her :

"Are we in danger, dearest, of losing the romance and poetry of our lives? I hope not. We must not, or we shall lose a charm. How I used to dream what a life of poetry I would have; but somehow, though, the poetry and the longing after a perfect life is not gone. I have felt that in a great measure my dreams must give place to graver thoughts. The romance of our lives is not a light, airy, unprofitable thing, and I am sure we might cherish more of it than we have done. I do not want to become uninteresting and dull, and I should be very sorry for you to become so. I like to have your company, and I have often wished for more of it. I know that your time is pretty nearly fully occupied, and I would not in any way hinder your work, all important as it is, by my selfish claims. After all, we are lovers yet, and dearer than we ever were to each other."

Again, in answer to a letter of mine, in which I had spoken of our helping each other in our spiritual life, and asked her to forgive my occasional manifestations of irritability, she says:-"I don't think that I have felt your irritability, dearest, any more than I have felt at times my own lack of patience and forbearance. You have much to bear from me sometimes, from my thoughtlessness and wilfulness, but I will try, dearest, not to vex you at all. I have had reflections similar to your own while I have been here, and I, too, want to be more spiritual. Let us help each other in this matter, for I am afraid we have been too reserved with each other. I pray for you, dearest, every day."

It would have required a long, long life, and a life of some vicissitude, too, to have developed all the latent, beautiful, noble qualities of my wife. Her spring only developed, she was like one of her own loved sweet violets. Had she lived, there would have been a rich summer and a ripe autumn.

That such a wife and such a mother should be taken away at the early age of twenty-seven is to me one of the great mysteries of time.

"The hopes we fondly cherish,

Like flowers which blossom but to die,
Seem only born to perish."

"We sail the sea of life-a calm one finds,
And one a tempest; and, the voyage o'er,
Death is the quiet haven of us all."

"Farewell!-a word that must be, and hath been:

A sound which makes us linger; yet-farewell!"

"If we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him."

MRS. OGDEN,

ASHTON-UNDER-LYNE.

MRS. OGDEN was born at Mile Hill, Bolton, July 31, 1795. Her parent were both religious persons, and were among the earliest members of the Methodist New Connexion in Bolton. They regularly attended public worship at the old chapel in Howell Croft. John and Anne Healey set before their children a good example, and laboured hard to "train up their family in the way they should go." Being in easy circumstances they were able to afford their children a tolerable education. Maria, their youngest child, the subject of this memoir, was, like many other young people prone to evil. Parental discipline had frequently to be used in order to restrain her youthful follies. From a child she was remarkably fond of reading; in fact it was almost her only recreation; and all her leisure moments were spent in this way. History, biography, travel, with works of fiction, were eagerly read by her; the latter unknown to her father, who, being a strict man, would have punished her severely if he had discovered the habit in which she then indulged.

Although strictly brought up, Maria was naturally fond of worldly pleasures, and often longed for amusements of which her parents did not approve. When about fifteen years of age, without the knowledge of her parents, she was persuaded to accompany a female friend to the theatre. The first part of the drama pleased her much. She was excited, and for the time gratified with what she saw and heard, but during the latter part of the entertainment her conscience began to trouble her. To use her own words, "I could scarcely sit still, I was so miserable; not only because I had disobeyed my parents, but from the thought that I, the child of many prayers, should be seen in such a place. My remorse was so great for the sin I had committed that my pleasure was over for that evening. To add to my dismay, before the play was finished a fearful thunder-storm came on. The vivid flashes of lightning, the rolling thunder, and my uneasy conscience made my position a most unenviable one." She resolved, if permitted to reach home in safety, to confess all to her parents, ask their forgiveness, and never enter such a place again. This vow she rigidly kept, and by great watchfulness was enabled to escape the snares which were frequently laid in her way.

It is not to be supposed that one so much under religious influences, who saw religion exemplified daily in home-life, and knelt regularly at the family altar, could long resist the strivings of God's Spirit. Maria was frequently agitated by the thought of sins unforgiven. Her conscience, at this time being tender, did not fail to remind her that she was living to herself, instead of consecrating her time and talents to the Redeemer. She had often deep convictions of sin, and was at many times distressed at her state of mind, but as often these impressions passed away, leaving her more unhappy than she was before. Instead of confiding in some members of her family, or in some Christian friend, she grew reserved and silent about spiritual things, and thus her good desires ended in disappointment.

At this critical time in her life the Rev. John Atherton, a young minister of great zeal and ability, came to reside at her father's house. Not only in his public ministrations was he acceptable to the people, but in the private means of grace, and in his social visits among the flock, he was highly esteemed. In the pulpit he was solemn and fervent, making known the great truths of the Gospel with becoming gravity and earnestness. In

the private means of grace he was tender and true to his Master's interest by speaking good of His name. And in his social visits, particularly to the poor, he was ever genial and kind, interesting himself in the welfare of his people, thus proving himself a "good minister of Jesus Christ."

Brought into daily contact with this devoted man, and seeing much of his inner life at her home, Maria timidly made known to him her difficulties, her failures, her disappointments, her self-righteousness, her despair of ever reaching heaven, or of understanding the plan of salvation at all. With great tenderness and solicitude he advised her, and directed her to the "Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world." For some time she was in darkness and doubt, despondency would arise in her mind, conflicting fears would trouble her, Satan would torment her, and but for her pastor's gentle teaching and guidance she would probably have given up all for lost.

In this state of mind, when seventeen years of age, she, in company with her brother (the late John Healey, of Bolton), and a female friend, went to a love-feast at Bury, then part of the Bolton Circuit. She can best express in her own words her feelings at that time. She says:

"Whilst in the love-feast I was so wrought upon by God's spirit, and so sure that I had passed from death unto life, that I was constrained to get up to tell the people that I had not a doubt of my salvation. It was the first and only time that I had ever courage to speak in a love-feast."

And now having "believed with her heart unto righteousness," and found Christ to be her Saxiour, she at once gave her heart and hand to the Church. Feeling her own weakness, and anxious to grow in grace, she availed herself of every help that the Church could afford. Casting aside every broken end, reed trusting only in the atonement for salvation, she began to realise the "blessedness of those whose sins are covered, and to whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity." Knowing what her besetting sin was, she carefully guarded against it, and by daily self-examination was enabled to see clearly the defects in her character. Praying earnestly that the Spirit of God might show her her real condition in His sight, her prayer was answered, her mind was enlightened, and her faith increased. Living up to the light she had received, more light was communicated, thus, step by step, she slowly advanced in Divine things, taking heed lest in an unguarded moment she should fall.

Finding her temptations to be numerous and her strength as yet small, and having tried before to serve God in her own strength and failed, she found that she must do something or adopt some plan, in order that her soul might be nourished and fed. She, therefore, laid aside a portion of every day for private prayer, and for the regular study of the Scriptures, choosing the precepts, prayers, and promises of the Bible for her daily support. This was her regular habit, until failing health forced her to give it up.

With all the peculiar workings of her mind, while undergoing the change from nature to grace, we are unacquainted, but it is sufficient to state that her after life was a clear manifestation of the change that had been wrought within her.

This perhaps was the happiest period of her life. Young, intelligent, in good health, in comfortable circumstances, with numerous friends, and a mind at peace with God, what more could she desire? Life for her, at this time, was a joyous thing; but a time was approaching when her religious principles would have to be tested. Many trials were in store for her, in the shape of adversity, affliction, and bereavement. Her young life was about to be clouded with much of earthly sorrow, but her trust in the Lord was abiding; she knew in whom she had believed, and could trust her whole future with Him, and if necessary submit to "the chastening of the Lord."

Before she was twenty years of age she was united in marriage to Mr. John Ogden, of Ashton-under-Lyne, and for many years they continued to

reside in Bolton. As a wife she was submissive "and obedient to her own husband," fulfilling every duty that devolved upon her to the best of her ability. In this new relationship she found plenty to do and plenty to think about, for a numerous family soon claimed her attention, and to "bring them up in the fear of the Lord," was her chief anxiety, as a mother she was at all times tender-hearted and loving, but at the same time maintaining proper discipline when necessary. She was energetic and firm when occasion required in the administration of correction to her children. She would listen to no petty quarrel, nor show more partiality for one than another; in fact, she governed them by the law of kindness and firmness combined, and thus gained the respect and esteem of all her children.

Whilst living in Bolton she regularly attended Ebenezer Chapel, and was favoured with the old friendship of many of the ministers now deceased; amongst whom were the Revs. T. Allin, John Harrison, and the devoted David Barker. The latter visited her often, and was made a great blessing to her.

In course of time, owing to depression in trade and other causes, the family removed to Ashton-under-Lyne to reside permanently. Here Mrs Ogden at once joined the class conducted by the late Mr. James Dean. He was well qualified for the position he held as leader, gaining the affection of his members and making their interest his own. Mrs. Ogden being a stranger in a strange place, required sympathy and encouragement; he gave her both, and became her friend in every sense of the word, and remained so until his death.

Many were the trials that beset her path about this time, and frequently she had to "trust God where she could not trace Him." The religion that had supported her in youth and in prosperity was even more valuable to her now in middle life and in adversity, for the claims of a large family and only a small income made her poor as regarded this world; but she still continued rich in faith, though struggling with difficulties; responsibilities increased so her confidence in God became stronger.

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She had at many times to endure the bitterness of bereavement, in the loss of her infant children. One after another were committed to the grave, while the mother's heart was rent with anguish for her little ones. The consolations of religion, however, were vouchsafed to her in the time of need, and were her only comfort.

In the year 1851 another trial awaited her in the removal of her youngest son (the Rev. James Ogden) from his home, to enter upon the regular duties of the ministry. The mother's heart dreaded the separation. Though willing to make a sacrifice, and sacrifice it was in many respects, for the Church and for her Redeemer, she could not all at once bring her mind to it. A powerful temptation was presented to her, that if he complied with the invitation given she would suffer pecuniary loss. She has often spoken to the writer about her feelings at this time, how she was tempted and tried by the wicked one, perplexed and harassed by many fears, in danger of losing her trust in God, but ultimately gaining the victory. By wrestling prayer with God, and a quiet submission to His will, she was enabled to leave all her affairs in His hands, knowing that He would do all things well. As far as her means would allow she was a liberal supporter of the Church to which she belonged. She did not believe in a religion that cost her nothing. She would make a sacrifice at any time to give, providing she could not afford to give without such a sacrifice; but give she must in some degree.

To the poor she was kind, laying aside a little for charity when she met with those who were in need, and though she had not much to give, the little she could spare was cheerfully given, and as gratefully accepted by the recipients of her kindness.

One poor fellow to whom she had given a trifle weekly for a length of time, he through bad health being unable to work, brought her a beautiful nosegay as a proof of his gratitude. With tears in his eyes he offered it to her, thanking her for her kindness to him in the time of need.

Her second son, now in America, whom she had been the means of leading to Christ, says in a letter to his sister, "If there is anything good in my character I owe it all, under God, to my mother's excellent training. The teaching I received from her in youth will never be forgotten."

For the ministers of the Gospel she had a sincere regard, particularly for those belonging to our own denomination. If uncharitable persons. were disposed to speak disparagingly of them, as they sometimes did in her presence, she would defend them to the utmost. Though of a mild temper and not easily provoked, she would grow warm and animated in the defence of the absent.

To the Rev. C. J. Donald and the Rev. T. D. Crothers she was much attached. To the former for his kindness in visiting her family at a time of great affliction and poverty. His words and prayers together, though she was at that time walking through the valley of humiliation, caused her grateful heart many times to sing for joy.

Whilst on a visit to Bolton, which lasted some three or four months, in the summer of 1860, she had the privilege of hearing Mr. Crothers preach regularly at the chapel in St. George's Road. She has often referred to the time as being one of great spiritual profit. Words in season fell from his lips, and her soul fed on "fat things."

At this time she was in the enjoyment of vigorous health, and remained so until she reached her seventieth year when an attack of paralysis in the summer of 1865, which rendered her speechless for several days, and put her life in great jeopardy, so weakened her constitution that from that time her health visibly declined. The last ten years of her life were years of extreme suffering, borne with exemplary patience. No murmuring word ever escaped her lips, though the pain in her head was at times so great as to affect her reason. Yet in her lucid intervals she was very graciously sustained and comforted. He who had been the guide of her youth did not forsake her now when she most needed Him. She knew in whom she had believed, and where to go for comfort. The religion that had been her only support in youth, in prosperity, in the time of health, in middle age, in the period of adversity, was quite sufficient to sustain her in her last affliction.

In the summer of last year she received a severe shock by the intelligence that one of her daughters had died suddenly when alone in the house, under very painful and distressing circumstances. This was one of the greatest of all her troubles. She could not say all at once" Thy will be done," but was at length enabled to do so. Speaking of the event to her daughter, she said, "It is harder for you to bear than it is for me, for I shall not be long after her. I shall soon see her again, where there will be no more parting." Her words were soon fulfilled, for in six short months she too had passed away.

To the Rev. H. T. Marshall, her own pastor, she was tenderly attached. Though she never had the opportunity of hearing him preach, still his occasional visits to the house, with his genial manner and pleasant conversation, cheered her; his fervent prayers for her and her family were a means of grace to her.

In the month of November, after appearing a little better than usual, unfavourable symptoms set in, and she rapidly altered for the worse. Though able to converse a little, it was with great difficulty she could make herself heard, but when she could speak it was to assure her daughter, who waited upon her, "that all was well." She spoke with more animation than could have been expected, considering her weak state, of the beautiful home to which she was going. On being asked if she would like to see her minister, Mr. Marshall, she replied, "Not to-day, he will be busy preparing for to-morrow (Sunday). I would not have him disturbed on any account; his work is too important for that. Tell him that the promises of the Bible rise up in my mind, comforting me much. I feel that I am not forsaken in this time of need."