so feelingly the triumph of a dying Christian, " And let this feeble body fail." I feared he would exhaust his strength; but he felt he was a dying man, and he wished to use his departing speech for his Lord's glory. There were some Roman Catholics present. He addressed them, exhorting them not to trust in their own works, and pointing out Jesus as the only Mediator, and His righteousness as the only acceptable dress in which the sinner can approach God. He concluded his address by prayer, resigning his body to the dust, and casting his soul upon the blood of the Redeemer. We thought his spirit would have fled that night: but his sufferings were protracted another day and night. The morning he departed was the Sabbath. The grey dawn was faintly breaking in through the windows. He inquired of a friend who sat by his dying bed, "What day it was?" His cousin replied, "Sunday." George answered immediately, "A sabbath, a sweet sabbath! My father and mother died on this day-so will I." "Tom," he added, turning again to his cousin," how surprised my uncle will be to see wild George with him in heaven." He scarcely uttered any more until a few moments before he expired; when he said to my sister, in a faint voice, "Happy! happy!" and his redeemed spirit fled for ever from the things of time—a trophy of the Redeemer's wondrous grace. AN ACCOUNT OF THE DEATH OF MATILDA M. A—. It may be interesting and instructive to mark, in the experience of the subject of these few pages, God's faithfulness to the end, in all His promises, to those who simply and firmly rely on them. God loves that we should take Him at his word. His promises are all, Yea and Amen, in Christ Jesus. From a neglected cold, Matilda's health began gradually to decline. On being informed of her physician's hopeless opinion-which was intimated very suddenly, and at a time when, to outward appearance, she seemed to be recovering-she received the intelligence with the most perfect composure, and really with a smile of pleasure, as receiving an invitation from her Father's kingdom, where the remembrance of her dark hours of trial here should for ever be lost in the sunshine of her Saviour's countenance. But it was a pleasure not unmingled with sympathy for the anguish of a beloved sister, in whose joys and sorrows she had always participated. She also felt, that although the summons, through her interest in a crucified Redeemer, was deprived of its sting and terror, still, to every child of earth, it must be solemn; and she retired to dedicate that time to prayer. Long ere this period, she had, in heart and life, bid farewell to the world, with its varied and wearisome vanities. Her diary shows her having dedicated herself to the Lord so early as the year 1820; which diary has been regularly kept up to the year of her death. From this period her countenance bore witness to the happiness which dwelt within: and it would be difficult to express the settled security of anticipated bliss which marked her every word. She seldom spoke but either to exhort or to build up in the faith those who were about her. She used to say-as a favourite saint had before expressed her words were as a few drops of oil which must soon be spent, and should be used for her Master's service and glory. She loved to dwell on the imputed righteousness of Christ; and for a friend who had once disputed with her on this question, she had prepared, against her next visit, a list of texts in favour of it. Her sister, on finding her writing, wished to dissuade her, fearing lest the exertion should be hurtful to her. "Oh," said she, "I wish to write out all the texts on the subject of my Saviour's righteousness as being the only robe in which the believer can appear before God; as I fear, were I only to give the references, our friend may not look out for them, as being opposed to this truth." One day her sister, on coming into the room, found her in tears. Seeing her sister look much concerned, she said, "Dear Rebecca, rather rejoice with me; for these are tears of joy. Oh, I cannot express the sweet manner in which God visits my soul when I am alone. Oh, I am never alone: He is always with me, giving me such precious manifestations of His love in the promises. They crowd one after another in such a way sometimes on my mind that I am lost in wonder at such love—all free love-unmerited love!" In some such way as this did her sister generally find her whenever she left her for any time alone. Once, on her sister's entering the room, she found dear Matilda much exhausted, reclining on the sofa, and the following verses by her side, which she had just composed : "Father, it is thy will, I yield, I yield; The leaves, which seemed to promise summer fruit, And to my sight astonished bring to view From very weakness rise, with strength its own: In incorruption rise-corruption sown. A flower of glory, fitted for the sky; Cultured to bloom beneath Jehovah's eye." : About a month previous to her death she was suddenly taken so ill as to leave little hope to her sorrowing friends of her living till morning. Matilda felt aware of it; and, clasping her sister's hand, said, Rebecca, you know I often told you in health, I would not be afraid to die, knowing whom I have believed and now I am dying, I can look death in the face, and feel no alarm." She was naturally of a lively, imaginative temperament, but in her illness evidenced no excitement of mind, often saying, "It were safer to trust to God's word than to our own feelings: that one might vary, the other never could.” She placed a steady reliance on the Divine promises; and with holy zeal used to say, "her whole confidence was in the faithfulness of God, and that she wished every one would depend solely on the immutability of the covenant and see how God is faithful to the end to all who come unto Him through Christ." She used to say "that these promises were all her joy, her trust, and her glory: and that, confiding in them, she was no more afraid to die, than of taking off her clothes." Towards her latter end her joy brightened more and more. As the shade which intercepted the bright view before her became more transparent, her soul, impatient of delay, used to break out into holy longings and breathings after God; repeating, with much emphasis, "Oh, when shall the period appear, when I shall unite in your song ; I'm weary of lingering here, and I to my Saviour belong. I'm fettered and chained up in clay; I struggle, I pant to be free; I long to be soaring away, my God and my Saviour to see. I want to put on my attire, washed white in the blood of the Lamb; I want to be one of your choir, and tune my glad harp to His name. I want-oh, I want to be there, where sorrow and sin bid adieu; Your joy and your friendship to share, to wonder and worship with you." At other times, when under sufferings, she has said with a sigh: "Yet a little, and I know, happy entrance shall be given; All my sorrows left below, and earth exchanged for heaven." And also: " "Though bitter at present, 'twill end before long, And then, O how pleasant the conqueror's song." She sometimes feared that her anxious desire to depart, and to be with Jesus, amounted to impatience; and she requested of some friends to pray God that she might be resigned to wait for the time pleasing to Him. One night-in the middle of the night-she began to sing, "Crown Him! Crown Him! Lord of all!" On her sister's speaking to her, she told her that she had just awoke from a delightful dream. She thought she saw Jesus walking in a garden, holding in his hand a chaplet of most brilliant flowers; that He was followed by an angel who was gathering more, and adding them to those which Christ held. She heard the Saviour say, "Is there any beautiful flower of earth which Matilda would like to have added to this wreath?" She then saw Him trimming the wreath into a crown, and heard that it was a crown which Jesus was forming for her. She thought," Oh! I am looking more at that brilliant crown than at my dear Redeemer;" and as she fell down to worship, she awoke. The next day she said to her cousin, "Now, David, I know the flower of earth which Jesus would have added to my crown: it is patience; the only flower that cannot grow in heaven." A few days after, sitting up in bed, she lifted up both her hands and eyes, saying, "I thank thee, O God, for this great mercy." Then, turning to her sister, "Oh, Rebecca, only think of the joy! Now I know that God will soon take me to Himself, because He has brought me to be entirely resigned to wait His will; and that was what He was leaving me for." The Saturday night previous to her death, she did not sleep; and she said to the maid who sat up with her, "Well, Mary, you have watched four hours with me: but my glorious Saviour could not get His disciples to watch one hour with Him." In the morning she observed to her sister, "I did not close my eyes in sleep the whole night, and yet I never passed so happy a night. Several times I felt as if I could sleep, but I would not let myself do so, I was so happy." The Sunday before she died, the Rev. George B- visited her; when she told him where she wished to have her remains laid, and said, that the only inscription she wished to be put on her tomb was, " The wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life, through Jesus Christ our Lord." Speaking of that glorious scene described in the 7th chapter of Revelations, she said, "Oh, I long to leave this body of clay, that I may praise Him as I ought. Oh, how glorious my Saviour looks, how full of majesty and love, with the armies of heaven following Him! How trifling will our sufferings here appear when we join that bright assembly!" Mr. B―, when he retired from her room, said that he never before witnessed so truly the triumph of faith as she exhibited it; which he expressed also in a sweet, appropriate lecture that he gave over her grave. She asked her cousin (who was her medical attendant) how long he thought she should remain here? He said, she might probably live a week longer. "Well," she said, with great animation, "that will not be long in passing over." Her sister said at one time to her, when enduring much pain, "Dear Matilda, Jesus will be with you." She turned with a surprised look-" Will be with me-surely, Rebecca, He is always with me! He never leaves me!" At another time, lifting up both hands and eyes, "Thou hast given commandment to save me; for Thou art my Rock, and my Castle." Once, when in pain, her sister said to her, "Poor Matilda!" She answered: "Oh, Rebecca! say, Rich Matilda." This she generally said, whenever the term "poor" was applied to her. The Sunday previous to her death she was speaking of the importance of having the entire life a preparation for eternity; and saying, "What should she do now, if not entirely settled as to her assurance of her acceptance through, and interest in, Christ;" and calling her cousin to her, said, "I have now only to give praise." The night before her death she was seized with a convulsive fit of coughing, and several persons present thought she was dying. She was unable to speak for some time; then said, "Christ is all my joy." Then turning to those around her, she said, "Now, if when I am dying, I should be unable to speak, let every one here remember that I die happy: and as a proof of it, I will raise my hand that way"—(raising up her hand). This she did several times when dying, though able to speak to the last. The following day, which was the day of her departure, she seemed the whole day as if in the act of dying; her breathing very much oppressed, and her eyes partly closed for the most of the day: but she said she was perfectly collected, and knew every one about her. She remarked also to her cousin, "What a prayer-hearing God she had: that she had prayed to Him to keep all temptation from her, and that she should not for a moment have a shade of doubt as to her salvation; and also that her reason might be preserved to the end." "Both these," she said, "have been fully answered;" and then remarked to her sister, "notwithstanding all the opium I have taken." Towards evening she became a little restless; and sitting up in her bed, looked towards the foot, as if wishing to be moved there, saying, "Where shall I go?" Then, at once, as if fearful that any one present might suppose she meant to imply a doubt as to where her soul should go, she said aloud, with sweet assurance, "I am going to glory!" Some time after, a friend was reading that precious passage, the 2nd verse of the 43rd chapter of Isaiah, When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burnt; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee." When concluded, Matilda said, "That will do." Then clasping her hands together, and lifting her eyes, she seemed evidently in deep communion with God. Her countenance beamed brighter and brighter, till it assumed the appearance of a laugh of the greatest rapture. Those present were quite thrilled at the sight, which was most unearthly. Her sister, anxious that her cousin, who was absent, should also witness it, ran to call him. He was surprised, and said aloud, that he never witnessed such an expression CHRIST. OBSERV. No. 18. 2 U of joy before. All the time she seemed so entirely absorbed as not to notice our observing her. In a little time after, she said "she was dy ing;" and desired that her sister should be taken out of the room, saying, "This will affect her too much." But in some time after, perceiving that their endeavours were ineffectual, and that her sister still remained by her side, she bid her put her arm round her neck, placing it in such a manner as that her dear dying head might be no weight on her arm; and placing her hand in hers, said, with a loving look at her sister, "Now I am very comfortable;" evidently feeling happy to die in her almost too much beloved sister's arms. Her sister, knowing that her departure was very near, and fearful of occupying her dear Matilda's mind at such a time, said, "My darling sister, you will soon be with that glorious company which surrounds the throne; and you will soon see your Saviour!" She answered distinctly, "Yes! Oh, I have a longing desire to see Him-my life-my all. Comecome Lord Jesus-come-come quickly, Lord Jesus-come-come.' Then, turning her eyes to her sister, she said, "I'm dying now." Then, with an expression of the most ineffable peace and joy, said aloud, "All is joy and peace;" and in a few moments breathed her last, so gently, without a sigh or movement, that it was some time ere we knew that her happy spirit had indeed flown to the regions of "joy and peace" on October 16, 1833, Wednesday evening, between eight and nine o'clock. The following lines were written by her shortly after the first intelligence of the physician's hopeless opinion. I insert them here, as they are so expressive of her resignation, and happy state of mind. "I saw, in cloudless path, the moon Move on her way so lovelily; I saw the sun in brightness beaming The place where I have loved to be; Nor grieved, nor sighed, when thinking there, It shortly would be lost to me. In that blest city where I'm going, Far purer, brighter light shall be; God and the Lamb, their light bestowing, Eternally shall shine for me. A holier temple too is there, Where angel worshippers I'll see ; And there, instead of languid prayer, Shall endless praise be sung by me.' About this time also a Christian friend, in a bad state of health, requested that dear Matilda would compose something, and write it in her album. The subject was chosen, and she wrote the following lines: "Afraid to die!-a child of grace, Redeemed by Jesu's dying love! Afraid to go behold his face! Afraid to tread his courts above! Afraid to have his conflicts done! Conflicts with sin, with death, and woe! Afraid to have his joys begun! Afraid of triumph o'er the foe! Afraid to cast to nature's night Mortality's cold, troubled dress ! Afraid to take his soaring flight, Robed in a Saviour's righteousness! . The eagle bird of strength and light Fears not to throw his plumage by, And with new wings attempt his flightAnd shall a Christian fear to die?" Wakeful memory could record many other interesting events and conversations deeply illustrative of this dear believer's settled assurance of a Saviour s love, her joy and peace in believing. But if the above testifies of God's never failing truth, and faithfulness in His promises to every believing soul, enough has been said; and the end |