"I said, "Then he is very precious to you now?'

"Oh, yes,' was her feeble answer.

"About two o'clock she again asked for the glass, and on observing the change which had taken place in her appearance during the previous hour, she clasped her hands, and raising her eyes, said, as well as her poor stiffened tongue would allow, 'Blessed Jesus, it is almost over now.' And turning to us said, 'Weep not for me.'

"Soon after, I said, 'You will soon behold the pearly gates.'

"After a few minutes she replied, 'He is coming! is coming!'

He

"She lay in an unconscious state apparently, for a few minutes, but on my whispering to a friend who stood by, she opened her eyes and looked round sweetly upon us all. That look will never be forgotten by any of us; the brightness of her eyes was superhuman; then throwing her left arm as high as she could extend it, she smiled sweetly.

"I exclaimed aloud, 'Christ Jesus, my beloved ?'

"She motioned with her head to show that she heard and understood me, and immediately her happy spirit took its flight to the presence of that Saviour whom unseen she had so long loved and adored. Those who were present imagined themselves surrounded with a multitude of angels, who received with joy the departing spirit, and triumphantly conducted it into the eternal kingdom of rapture and delight, where she now, with all the holy angels and ransomed hosts, ascribes an eternal hallelujah to God and the Lamb, and in the fulness of heavenly bliss, joins in their more exalted song."

Providence and Grace conjoined.

"A night and a day I have been in the deep."-2 COR. xi. 25. THE apostle alludes in these words to some péril by sea, the particulars of which are unknown to us; but the style of this expression seems to warrant the supposition that on one of the three occasions on which he suffered shipwreck, he spent a night and a day, or the entire twenty-four hours, in a small open boat which had escaped from the wrecked vessel, or possibly on a plank or part of a shattered ship · which floated with him to the shore. It may be that the reference is to some such shipwreck as that endured by him, and described in Acts xxvii., which terminates with the illustrative words, "And the rest, some on boards, and some on broken pieces of the ship; and so it came to pass that they escaped all safe to land."

Whatever may have been the especial circumstance, we know that Paul was preserved by an overruling Providence; and we may fairly conclude that wherever he landed on that occasion, he preached the gospel of Jesus Christ to the people, who doubtless received him as one wonderfully spared by that capricious ocean on whose agitated bosom he had spent twenty-four long and anxious hours.

I had these very words in my mind when an incident of a similar character occurred in my own history. Having fulfilled and terminated an engagement to preach for several successive Sabbaths at York Street Chapel, Dublin, I prepared for my return to Kensington, near London, by a route different from that which I had taken in going to the Irish capital. To vary my course, I traversed the country, and embarked at Waterford in a packet-ship which sailed from that port to Milford Haven, and thus avoided my previous route by Holyhead. I little anticipated to what this preference would expose me..

In

When I arrived at Waterford, the sea was gathering itself as if in prophetic anger, and the thick black clouds were rolling overhead before a driving blast, which was evidently not then at its height, and only moaned and wailed with menacing sounds, as if to forewarn all whose business was in great waters, not to trust themselves thereupon for some hours yet to pass away. In anticipation of very foul weather, the captain of the vessel which had been announced to sail that evening, refused to put out to sea, although the cargo and some of the passengers were already aboard. I thought it better to sleep on shore, as I intended to arise betimes and be ready for the vessel, which might stand out to sea in the early morning. Only a large dilapidated and gloomy-looking hotel was at hand, and there I took up my abode and endeavoured to snatch a brief repose. vain, however, did I court slumber, for keen bright flashes of lightning struck through the darkness of the night and my own chamber. These were followed by peals of houseshaking thunder, and the dashing against the windows of deluging rain. The wind rose to a gale, and whistled shriekingly through the long, dreary passages of the hotel, and whenever any lull took place in the moanings of the wind and the volleys of the thunder, the brief silence was disturbed by the loud, hoarse, nautical cries of the sailors below, engaged in nocturnal embarkation and naval operations. A wakeful, weary, tossing night, therefore, was my lot, but during its long and slowly dragging hours I often lifted up my thoughts in thankfulness to him who had hitherto watched over me, and had enabled me to serve him, though but feebly, at home and abroad.

The morning arrived at last, but not with joy which usually cometh with the morning. The storm was still lingering; it had not passed over, but only a part of it had gone away

with the night. Still the morning was so far favourable that the captain thought we might set forth without danger; and as the cargo was now all on board, and the passengers assembling on the shore, the determination to make the voyage was announced, and we all hastened on board, where we found some who had passed the sad, stormy night there, together with the proprietor of the vessel and of its cargo, who was a member of the Society of Friends. The crew was composed of Irish and Welsh sailors, some of whom understood their duty better than each other's language.

We had not long stood out to sea before we saw and felt that we had exposed ourselves to the force and fury of an increasing storm. Instead of abating, it was momentarily gathering its strength together. As we made difficult way over the swelling waves, we seemed to be only advancing into deeper and wilder elemental confusion. The white-crested billows rolled proudly and madly on; and instead of the usual green sea, we saw far before us a heaving snow-field, as it were, of white foam, with patches of dark waters between, the whole presenting the appearance of a hilly district of the land, when thick and heavy snows have fallen upon it just where the traveller is cutting his way through the white mounds and divided heaps. The rolling and pitching of the ship were most trying to those passengers who were unaccustomed to such experiences. It was impossible for such to stand upright without clinging tenaciously to handle, or rope, or side. Even the crew seemed disturbed, and their confusion of tongues became worse confounded. I and some others turned to the captain. He said little, and was too much occupied to listen to foolish and timid inquiries from landsmen. Yet we instinctively watched his countenance, and read in its passing shades or phases of animation the incentives to our own hopes or fears.

We felt what he looked; one brief word or bright glance from him cheered us; one dark frown discouraged us beyond recovery at the moment. Strange that we should so look on the countenance of man, when no mortal power could help us to escape the fury of the elements! but such is the weakness of helpless ignorance.

The daylight, struggling and scanty as it was, and had been all day, soon began to decline, and yet we had not reached our destination, or even neared it, so far as we could determine. Indeed, we ascertained that the wind was driving us in a different direction, though in what precise direction we knew not. Towards evening we descried in the distance what appeared to be a wreck, but as we approached it we found that it was a small dismasted vessel. It was rolling about helplessly, and was driven before the wind like a mere plaything of the tempest. We now sailed close to it, and discerned two human beings lashed to the remaining stump of the broken mast, with matted hair, soaked garments, bloodless faces, and apparently completely exhausted. I joined the owner of the vessel in urgently requesting our captain that he would take instant measures for saving these two miserable creatures. It may scarcely seem credible that we were opposed by the remonstrances of some fellowpassengers, who were so absorbed in anxiety for their own safety and speedy deliverance, that they would have abandoned two helpless fellow-men to inevitable destruction. Their remonstrances amounted to open accusations, when the captain, yielding to our request, and accompanied by two of his ablest seamen, launched the ship's boat, and entered it. We were then indeed in great danger, for the bold crew of that little boat were our own chief hope; and their loss would certainly be the forerunner of ours. They endangered our lives in going to rescue others.