application of severe remedies, although she was very sensitive to pain, remarking, "I do it for the sake of my poor father, that I may not have anything to look back upon with regret. I ought at least to be willing to give him this satisfaction." "I had hoped to make him happy again," she would say; "and we were so comfortable we three together." Still her faith never forsook her, and she could always say through her tears, "The will of the Lord be done!" She gave very minute directions respecting the disposal of her little possessions, and even with regard to the manner of her interment. Taking a small ring from her finger, and trying it on that of her friend, she asked her if she would wear it. On being reminded that this ring had been given her by her father after her mother's death, with the injunction to keep it in remembrance of her, she said, "Oh, then, you do not understand me: I mean, will you wear it when I die? I do not intend to part with it till then." She never mentioned it again till a few minutes before she expired.

She was often pained when her relations expressed their regret that she could not do as others did, or if they supposed that she was the least envious of the enjoyments of others. She said one evening, "If they think that I regret the enjoyments of the world, they are much mistaken; I never think of them." At another time, when she heard that her cousin was preparing for a ball, she said, “I do not think my cousin Corollie has much taste or enjoyment in these things, but she is easily influenced, and I sometimes fear she will become like others. I, who think differently now, may yet be exposed to the same temptations, and I may perhaps do as others do." It proved, however, to be the will of the Good Shepherd that this tender lamb should be sheltered in His fold from the temptations of the world. Increasing illness only tended to show how firm was her anchor on the Rock of Ages. "What a happy thing it is for me now," she said, "that God has given me resignation to His will! I know very well it is God who has accom

plished the work; it is not of me, and it is not of you, if I am resigned, but you have shown me the way." At another time, when her grandmother expressed her surprise that she could bear her sufferings with so much patience, Adèle said to her, "Well, grandmamma, would you have me be impatient? Those who are not resigned to the will of God suffer much more. But," added she with unusual earnestness, "this does not come from myself-it comes from God." Her grandmother said, "Who has taught you to preach in this manner?" Adèle replied, "No one has taught me; I feel these things to be true."

During intervals of improvement in her health, she took great pleasure in reading the New Testament, and would say to her friend, if anything obliged her to leave her bedside, "Now you may go, for I am not alone." She committed to memory passages which struck her, especially some parts of the Sermon on the Mount and other discourses of our Saviour, and applied them in a very appropriate manner, saying one day, "How beautiful these passages are ! The Bible is a very different book from every other; although we read it every day, we shall always find something new." One morning her father found her sitting up in bed reading the Bible, and asked with surprise, “Do you read the Bible in this way by yourself?" "Yes, papa," she replied, "and I find that the reading of it does me good. I wish you would read it too." Her father said smiling, "You can read it for me." She very earnestly added, "That cannot be done." She then repeated to him many striking texts, amongst which were the following: "Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth," etc., laying particular stress on the concluding sentence, “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." "Whosoever heareth these sayings of Mine," etc. When he had left the room she said, "I should have liked to have said more, but you cannot imagine what I feel when I speak to him on these subjects; I immediately have a palpitation; but I shall try and call his attention to these things; how I wish they

might be a comfort to him. I hope God will make use of me to bring him to Himself; but," she added in a very serious manner, "I can only be the machine; it must be God who sets it in motion."

On hearing of some differences in opinion which existed in some of the French Protestant churches, Adèle said, "Well, I can agree with those only who believe that we are to be saved through the mercy of Christ. I have not examined these things very minutely, but I think I have a clear opinion of my own. I love God, I believe in Christ, and I hope to go to Heaven. Yes, I have this firm conviction, and I hope I am not mistaken." One morning she appeared very thoughtful, and looking sweetly at Christine, said, "What is the greatest benefit that God has granted to man? It is," she quickly rejoined, "the means afforded us of going to Him." After having read a chapter together in the evening, she said, "I should like to pray aloud," and with much emotion she uttered the following prayer: “I come in the name of Thy Son to implore Thy blessing on myself and on those around me, particularly on my dear father. Give him more resignation, more faith in his God and in Christ. For myself, I dare not ask either health or a long life, for I know not what is good for me, but Thou knowest. Grant me patience and resignation to Thy will. In the name of Jesus Christ Thy Son, I pray Thee to deign to answer my prayer."

Her sentiments with regard to the moral training of children were most correct. She considered that she had herself suffered when very young from the want of sufficient care on the part of those under whose management she had been placed, and she was anxious for her cousins, who were exposed to still greater danger from the same cause. The father of these children came to see her; she was very plain with him on the subject, and astonished him by her exhortations, as she forcibly endeavoured to make him feel the importance of the charge entrusted to parents.

She was very desirous about this time to try a change into

the country, partly to avoid the frequent visitors whose conversation was not congenial to her. She was accordingly removed to the house of her kind friend who watched over her so assiduously; and here, delighting in the quiet retirement and in the beauty of the flowers which adorned the garden, her spirits revived, and she even indulged the hope of getting better, saying, "How thankful I should be to God, on my dear father's account, if I were restored to health; but I hope I shall never forget what I have felt during my illness it would have been better for me to have died. I hope I shall never be a woman of the world." Her enjoyment of the simple country-life at C, united with the intense clinging to her father, was so great that her friend saw, with some degree of solicitude, that the links of life were binding her more closely; yet she often said she did not then forget to thank Him to whom she had prayed, saying with great simplicity, "My God, I thank Thee," and adding, "I do not wish to live for any other pleasure than that of spending my life with you two among my pretty flowers." It was a time of conflict with her when recurring illness proved that the hopes of cheering her father's life were not to be realised; but she always endeavoured to meet him cheerfully and to converse with him on other subjects. One day, as she was sitting in her little garden, surrounded by kind friends, the conversation turned on the troubles of this life, pain, sickness, and privations, and some present seemed disposed to complain of the lot assigned them.

Adèle for some time appeared to take but little notice. At last she said, "Well, I feel as if it would be wrong for me to complain; we must be resigned to the will of God. I have been ill a long time, but I try to be patient. When I am suffering, I pray to God; when I am a little better, I thank Him; and when I have been impatient, I ask His forgiveness." A few weeks before she died, hearing that her grandmother was ill, her anxiety was immediately awakened regarding the state of her mind, and though, whenever her return to N- had been proposed, she had

decidedly objected to leave her quiet retreat, she now said, "Do you think that grandmamma will die? If you do, I must go to N. I must tell her what religion has done for me, and how terrible it would be for her to leave this world without a sure hope for the next. I lay it upon you that you will not suffer my grandmother to die, if you know she is in danger, without my going to see her."

The dear child was then unable to undertake the journey, and the alarming symptoms in her grandmother's state subsided; but for several days Adèle talked of writing to her, though she was never able to accomplish this. Her grandmother recovered, but not sufficiently to allow of their meeting. Adèle's anxiety for her welfare was, however, communicated to her. The last few weeks of her life she had but few intervals of ease, though she still at times enjoyed her little garden, in which, though unable to walk, she spent several hours every day. One morning, after a very trying night, she said, "My illness is very long; it is very difficult for me to be always calm and resigned. I pray God to spare me great suffering, lest at last I should rebel against Him.”

One evening, after much nervous agitation and spasm, on taking leave of her father, she said, "Now, papa, I am going to take my greatest soother." Her father appearing not to understand her meaning, she added, "I find nothing calms me under these agitations like prayer. Miss C. and I pray together, and when I have prayed I feel quiet, and able to take a little sleep."

"One night," writes her friend, "when we had carried her upstairs, whilst her father supported her on the couch, sweetly looking up in his face, she said, 'Do you know, my father, He is gone to prepare a place for us? Will you be able to take comfort from the hope of meeting us there? (meaning herself and her mother). Do you believe in these things?' Her father answered, 'Yes, my daughter, I believe, I hope. God is merciful and great, we must hope in Him.' On seeing him affected, she tried to turn the