joined the society, were Mr. and Mrs. Butler, whose lives have been so prolonged that they are now, I believe, the only persons living in Port-de-Grave who belong to that generation of Methodists.

Virtue, their daughter, was born February 14th, 1800. As they carefully endeavoured to "train her in the way in which she should go," at an early age the truth which had been so diligently presented to her, began to influence her mind. She knew that she was a sinner; but she had been taught that such was the love of God to mankind, that he had sent his Son into the world to save sinners. Her mother especially frequently conversed with her on these subjects, as her youthful heart was capable of receiving them, and, by praying with her, taught and encouraged her to pray for herself. She has often referred with pleasure and thankfulness to these "days of her youth," in which she experienced much happiness in reflecting on the divine goodness; and was led to resolve that, "if she lived to grow up, she would live to God." Her disposition was affectionate, and from her childhood she was an example of filial love and obedience, maintaining an upright behaviour, together with great tenderness of conscience. But she was not, for a few years, sufficiently decided in seeking for the personal experience of redemption in the blood of Christ, even the forgiveness of sins. In the year 1817, however, the late Rev. James Hickson was appointed to Port-de-Grave; and his ministry and pastoral visits were made very useful to many; and, among them, to Virtue Butler. She saw the sinfulness of her indecision, and was so truly awakened to a sense of her guilt and danger, that she felt that she could not rest till she found the rest promised by Christ to the weary and heavy laden. She sought this with her whole heart, and did not seek in vain. She was enabled to believe in Him who had loved her and given himself for her; and she received the end of her faith, the salvation of her soul. Nor did she hesitate any longer on the subject of religious fellowship, but joined the society to which her father and mother had belonged for such a length of time, and continued unwavering in her attachment to it, during the remainder of her life, a period of twenty-five years.

But though she was thus made happy in God, her subsequent experience was greatly influenced by a natural timidity of disposition, which led her to dwell on her own unworthiness, and those numerous deficiencies which her tender conscience perceived. She looked so much at herself as to weaken her faith, and to diminish and interrupt her joy. It was right thus to look at herself; but with this she should have connected a constant reference to the merit and grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, to his overflowing compassion and love; she should have rested her faith on the promises which declare, that "he will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax." Retaining a deep conviction of personal unworthiness, and thus walking humbly with God, she should have likewise retained an unwavering confidence in her great High Priest, for whose sake alone she had access to God, and acceptance with him; and have thus been enabled to realize the full blessedness of the sacred injunction, "Rejoice in the Lord alway: and again I say, Rejoice!" In her last sickness, she greatly deplored to her Class-Leader this diffidence, to which she had so much given way; expressing her persuasion, that not only had her Christian enjoyment been diminished, but her Christian progress

retarded by it. But notwithstanding this, I know that she was favoured with many gracious visitations; and that there were seasons when she appeared to rise above all her misgivings and doubts, and to enjoy a holy fellowship with God. She loved his ordinances, and delighted in all his ways. The language of her heart was, "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee."

We were married in 1818, and our union was a source of mutual and increasing happiness. She was indeed a "help meet" for me, a divider of grief, and a doubler of joy. In bringing up a large family, she had sometimes to pass through difficult and trying circumstances, and in these she felt all the concern of a wife and a mother; but she never expressed any dissatisfaction with the dealings of divine Providence. Contented with her lot on earth, her great care was to pass through things temporal, keeping her eye steadily fixed on things eternal. She lived in this world knowing that every day brought her nearer to the time when she must leave it, and stand before her merciful but holy Judge: she therefore saw the will of God in the duties of her earthly condition, and conscientiously endeavoured to perform them " as to the Lord, and not to man.”

It was in her last affliction that she was fully delivered from what some might perhaps term that legal spirit which had so often brought her into comparative bondage, and prevented her from seeing that her fear of being wrong, and her desire to be right, were perfectly compatible with the exercise of a faith in Christ which should have filled her with all joy and peace. About a week after she had been confined to her bed, one night, when unable to sleep, she lay reflecting on the goodness of God towards her, and, as usual, bemoaning her own unfaithfulness: God had mercy upon her, and his light and salvation so broke in upon her, that all her doubts were removed, and she wondered at her own unbelief. She experienced the full power of the Spirit of adoption, and felt that she could cry, "Abba, Father," "with an unwavering tongue." She still saw that in herself she was only a sinner, a lost and helpless sinner; but she had a bright and realizing view of the glorious truth, that the blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin; so that the fears which had before harassed her, all vanished away, and she was fully able to say, "Behold, God is my salvation: I will trust, and not be afraid!" Her experience appeared exactly to coincide with the feelings so instructively expressed in the verse of one of our hymns:

Not only was all fear of death removed, but she so abounded in hope by the power of the Holy Ghost, that she even desired to depart and be with Christ. She was indescribably happy: she called me to hear her tell what God had done for her soul, and to join with her in rapturous thanksgiving and praise. As if her own language were insufficient for the expression of the feelings with which "her cup was running over," she broke the silence of night by exclaiming loudly :

"I'll praise my Maker while I've breath;
And when my voice is lost in death,

Praise shall employ my nobler powers:
My days of praise shall ne'er be past,
While life and thought and being last,
Or immortality endures."

I believe that, at this time, He who had appointed to call her to himself, severed all her ties to earth. Although she had been fond of her children almost to a fault, from this night she appeared to feel no regret at having so soon to leave them, but to be able, even cheerfully, to give them up, committing them with all her heart to the grace and providence of God. While she was lying in bed, in a state of extreme physical debility, only "strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might," it pleased God to take from us a lovely babe, and, only a week afterwards, a blooming daughter of fourteen years of age; but she was so divinely supported, that she even praised God for what he had done, believing that he had removed them from the evil to come. She was so collected, that she again quoted the verse of a hymn, to express what she thought and felt on an occasion which we feared, in her weak state, would have been too much for her. She said, with great solemnity:

"There we shall meet again,

When all our toils are o'er,

And death, and grief, and pain,
And parting are no more."

The disease with which she was afflicted, though ultimately fatal, occasionally presented some flattering symptoms; and of these the enemy of souls took advantage, tempting her especially with gloomy thoughts, not so much of death, as of dying. After all," she once

said, "there is something very awful in death. I seem to shrink when I look at the grave, the dark and cold grave." But I reminded her that she had often professed to believe of Christ, that he“ was crucified, dead, and buried;" that as he had conquered death, so he had himself submitted to be laid in the grave, thus sanctifying it as the resting-place of the bodies of his disciples. She "looked unto Jesus," and the snare was broken.

About a fortnight before she died, she had an attack so decided in its character, that her friends could not doubt but that her days were numbered, and very few. An assault of temptation was once more permitted, under the influence of which, in the heaviness of her soul, she plaintively asked, "Is there no sweet promise that I can claim for my own?" I repeated several to her; but she seemed not to be able to apply them to herself. We sent for her Minister, who came immediately; and his counsels and prayers afforded her much comfort; but still a degree of gloom rested on her mind, and she said, "Shall I again rejoice?" After a short pause, during which she had been inwardly praying, she added, as if resolved to renew her exercises of confidence in her Saviour, "Yes, I will, I can, rejoice in thee, my God." The gloom was dispersed; her heavenly Father caused his face to shine on her; and, with a glowing heart, she did indeed praise him. She now became composed; and, while lying quietly, sang the

verse,

"Out of great distress they came,
Wash'd their robes by faith below
In the blood of yonder Lamb,—

Blood that washes white as snow :
Therefore are they next the throne,

Serve their Maker day and night :
God resides among his own,

God doth in his saints delight."

She added, also, a short chorus, which she had been accustomed to connect with the several verses of the hymn,—

"Victory, victory!

We shall gain the victory!
O how happy shall we be,
When we gain the victory!

And then, as though arousing herself, she exclaimed, "Jordan's streams affright me?

6

No!

'Not Jordan's streams, nor death's cold flood,

Shall fright me from the shore." "

She then added, “No! death comes without terrors. Its sting is taken away. The sting of death is sin;' but my sins are pardoned. I am on the Rock. Glory to God, I am on the Rock, the Rock of Ages! Christ is mine, and, blessed be his name, I am his; and because I am his, heaven is mine for ever and ever." I said to her, "And all this not because of any worthiness in yourself." ness?" she replied; "O no; no worthiness in me! All is through the merit of my Saviour; all is through his atonement and intercession.

'I the chief of sinners am,

But Jesus died for me.""

"Worthi

A little before midnight, on the same day, feeling herself to be very weak, and thinking that her last hour was come, she requested that her children might be brought to her; and when this had been done, she addressed each of them very affectingly; told them to remember, when they were grown up, that they had a mother in heaven; and charging them to meet her there by making a decided choice of religion, and preparing for their dying hour. She then prayed earnestly for each of them, gave them what she believed to be her dying blessing, and most affectionately bade them farewell.

Contrary, however, to her own expectation, and to that of all her friends, she revived again, and lingered for nearly a fortnight; but her confidence continued unshaken, and no clouds shadowed her prospects of eternal felicity. She frequently expressed her gratitude to Almighty God, that, from this last and powerful assault, Satan had not been permitted to come near her. She was not able to say much at any one time; but what she did say was very animating, and manifested the panting of her soul for heavenly rest. The joy of the saints in light was the theme on which she delighted to dwell; and she comforted her sorrowing friends by telling them, that already she had the foretaste which made her long for the fulness. She had no wish to come back again to life; and on one occasion, when she appeared to have gained a little strength, and I had said to her, " Perhaps you may even yet be spared to us," she replied, that if it should be so, it would be

her duty to submit to the divine will; but that she would, in that case, feel somewhat of disappointment. "I desire," she said, "to depart and be with Christ, which is far better." The apparent revival, however, was only temporary, and she continued as before, patiently "resting in the Lord," and waiting for death and heaven. Her faith never wavered, and her hope was always unclouded and bright.

On the night of Friday, September 2d, when she was labouring for breath, and evidently suffering much,-though, from anything she said, she might have been entirely unconscious of it,-I told her that I thought she was not far from the last conflict, and that it would soon close in final victory. She answered by repeating a verse of a hymn which she had often sung while in health,—

"And O, when that last conflict's o'er,
And I am chain'd to earth no more,
With what glad accents shall I rise,
To join the music of the skies!"

She continued in a state of extreme weakness, and occasional pain, during the whole of the following day, unable to speak louder than a whisper; but her countenance expressed the unchanged state of her mind, and declared that she was patiently and calmly waiting for her dismissal. She was occasionally heard to say, "Come, Lord Jesus ;" and, "Lord, send thine angels to convey me home." Almost the last time I spoke to her, I said, seeing that she was sinking rapidly, "All is still peace within?" She whispered, Yes, all is peace: I am humbled as in the dust before a holy God; but, through my blessed Saviour, all is peace." Not long before she died, I reminded her that the Sabbath was come; adding, that I thought she would soon exchange it for the eternal one. She faintly said, "I hope so: pray that, if it be God's will, it may be so." And so it was. About eight in the morning of Sunday, September 4th, 1842, her ransomed "spirit returned to God who gave it.'

MISCELLANEOUS COMMUNICATIONS.

THE SPIRIT OF THE TIMES.

No. II. THE THEOLOGICO-LITERARY STATE OF THE
COUNTRY.

(To the Editor of the Wesleyan-Methodist Magazine.)

(Concluded from page 967.)

BE this as it may, the circumstance we are referring to is one of the most puzzling intellectual phenomena it was ever our lot to grapple with. We have a whole community at once changing its language. The very words, as now employed in theological discussion, mean different things to the sense assigned them a few years ago; and we shall soon need a new classification. But we have not only new meanings to the most familiar terms of theology, such as repentance, faith, holiness, love ;-church, sacra

VOL. I.-FOURTH SERIES.

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