This must often agonize your soul. May God bless and comfort you, my own loved friend, and enable you to glorify Him as He has given you grace to do in seasons of past sorrow. His Spirit has already whispered thoughts of peace, and proved Himself the Comforter, and He will be with you still to raise your heart to Heaven. You listen no longer to the merry laugh of your beautiful little Mary, but she has learned celestial melody.

"How joyously must the angelic Host welcome to their glorious Home the spirits of little children! We love them tenderly, but we gaze upon their sunny faces with melancholy interest, for we know they will be clouded with sorrow and with sin, and we long to look upon the impress of our Saviour's image there. We would shield them from unholy influences, but they are all around, and we feel that we know less than we would teach them of heavenly things. Ought we not then to feel thankful when our Heavenly Father shelters them for ever from the temptations of the world, and teaches them celestial lessons?

"I have thought with so much sympathy of your dear husband, and have often asked our Father in Heaven to comfort him. I think he can well understand the meaning of the assurance, Like as a Father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear Him.'

"I remember how sweetly he talked to me of the 'ages to come,' in which God will show the exceeding riches of His grace, in His kindness towards us through Christ Jesus.' I have loved him better ever since. Will you not both come to see us very soon?

"Will you not pray, my ever kind friend, that I may derive deeper instruction from the bereavement I still so keenly feel? I think affliction increases our responsibility so much, and I wish to learn every lesson our merciful Father would teach me, but I must prove this by more diligent attention to His instructions. I have learned that He is the Father of mercies and God of all comfort!'

THE LAND FAR AWAY.

"There are bright homes 'mid bowers of deathless glory,
There are blue skies o'erbending them in love;
Sweet winds, that never sighed round ruins hoary,
Or sung the autumn requiem of the grove.

There are fair flowers by crystal waters springing,
That never bore the semblance of decay;
On the soft air their perfumed incense flinging,
In a land far away.

'There on the mountain tops the day declining,
Hath never caused a twilight shade to rest;
Each hath an altar to Jehovah, shining

With sunlike brightness in the valleys blest.
And there are dwellers in these scenes of gladness,
O'er whose pure being death can have no sway,
Whose voices utter not a tone of sadness,

In a land far away.

Cherub and Seraphim of glory, bending

In holy rapture at the Throne of Light,
Angels and saints their songs of triumph blending-
These are the dwellers in that region bright.
And some have walked with us the path of sorrow,
And felt the storms of many a wintry day,
But oh, they 'wakened to a glorious morrow,
In a land far away.

'Thou best and dearest, ever gentle mother!

Who soothed me in thy circling arms to rest;
Stilling the cries that would have vexed another,
By folding me with love upon thy breast;
Green, o'er thy grave, for years the long grass sighing,
Has seemed to mourn above thy mouldering clay,
But well I know thy spirit dwells undying,

In a land far away.

'And shall we weep for those to joy departed,

Or grieve to see the captives burst their chain?

Sick as we are, and sad and weary hearted,

Would we recall them to the earth again?

See where they dwell - the forms we loved and cherished, From age dim-eyed with hair of silver grey,

To the fair babe that like a blossom perished —

In the land far away.

There He whose brightness suns and stars are veiling,
Whose form, once seen, would blind our mortal eyes,
With Him who bore unmoved the scoffer's railing,
And died to give us entrance to the skies;
Father and Son and ever-blessed Spirit,

By their glad presence make eternal day;
Oh, glorious are the homes the good inherit-
In a land far away.'

"I know this beautiful poetry will give you pleasure, dear Mrs. J., and I think will like it. Do give my love to him most

affectionately.

* * * "That holy consolation may be ever yours, prays your

affectionate friend.

SUSAN."

Growing debility caused the entries in Miss Allibone's Diary to become every year fewer, while at the same time her correspondence was increasing, and occupied most of the hours that she could give to writing. Full notes were, however, made for a number of years by one who was seldom absent from her side, of conversations and incidents in which she took part, extracts from which the author has kindly received permission to introduce. Such is the following:

"I remarked, to-day, to Susan, in reference to a previous conversation, that the Lord found work for her to do. She repeated the passage, 'He giveth power to the faint, and to them who have no might, He increaseth strength,' and said it was one of her favorite promises."

CHAPTER XVI.

1845.

Letters to Miss B.- Missive of Consolation in Illness Visit to her
Friend's Death-bed - Departing in Peace
Piece written in an Album
ters containing allusions to Miss B.

- Projected Memoir Thoughts suggested by Flowers - Let

To Miss B.

"GREENWOOD, Jan. 9, 1845.

"If it were in my power to resort to a less mechanical mode for the expression of feeling, I should have long since assured you, my dearest Lucie, of my unabated affection. I have vainly wished to secure time for this most agreeable employment; for I always love to have intercourse through any medium with one towards whom my heart so warms with affection, and with whom I so much love to converse upon our common hopes and responsibilities, and our heavenly home. How are you, my beloved one? Is your health improving, and are you comfortably situated? Have kind Southern hearts received and reciprocated kindly feelings, and have the disciples of Jesus caused you to forget that you are in a land of strangers? *

* *

"I was reading a little book this morning, which reminded me of some of our conversations and of some remarks contained in your last letter. You speak of cold affections, unbelief and other spiritual adversaries, and all you say, mine own one, I fully believe. Tenderly as I love you, sincere as I know you to be, I doubt not that you are 'sore let and hindered in running the race that is set before you.' My Bible tells me that our nature is corrupt, observation confirms the assertion, and alas! experience re-echoes it most mournfully.

"Let us ever rejoice that help is laid upon One that is mighty.' Would that we both lived in the act of constantly, simply hanging upon the righteousness of the Righteous One! That from the mo

ment of rising up till that of lying down, every deed, every thought, every wish, every motive, weighed in the balance and found wanting, were thrown away as detested things; and that from each we turned anew to the fountain ever open for sin and for uncleanness,' and anew perceiving that Christ is made unto us redemption, full, complete redemption; went on in the strength of the Lord our God, making mention of His righteousness, and of His only. Give all up to Him, for as free grace offers, so unfailing truth performs, and glorious love will alone be exalted.'

* * *

"E. R., a sweet little girl of ten years old, is one of my greatest pets, and you must pray that I may prove a blessing to the dear child. She attends the Saturday afternoon class, and listens with intense interest. I am glad you are endeavoring to obey our Saviour's injunction, Feed my Lambs.' Tell them much of the great Shepherd, and earnestly implore Him to lead them into 'the green pastures' of eternal life; and I doubt not your petitions will be answered. I think it most important to study the lesson with much prayer, and to try to convince them that the Bible is the most attractive of books. I try to indoctrinate my little pupils more than I once did, for they are so exposed to the arguments of infidelity. And yet there is danger of suggesting doubts, unless we be very careful. I think it best to teach them again and again the deep corruption of our nature, the need of atoning blood, and to impress the doctrine of the divinity of Christ; always to refer them to the Scriptures as the test of truth, and to cause them to commit passages to memory. I think, too, it is useful to read appropriate anecdotes, and to tell them to the children. But I hope, dear Lucie, you do all this better than I. If you have the opportunity of private conversation with your scholars, you can do more good. If they are large enough to write, it would be well to adopt Miss E.'s plan of giving each a written question every week. This plan elicits the expression of feeling.

* * *

"You ask me if I do not think that unbelief is often the offspring of earthly affections. Indeed I do, dearest Lucie. We must not go away from the Sun of righteousness if we would reflect His beams. Oh! that grace may be given us to depend only on Him, 'in whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.' I often think of the expression, My soul, wait thou only upon God, for my expectation is from Him.' In such an expectation there can be no disappointment"