graciously supported in this time of trial. We have been enabled, I think, to bow submissively, and even cheerfully, to the will of our heavenly Father, and to say from the heartEven so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight! The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord!' I cannot say that no murmurs have arisen in my rebellious heart. I have been tempted to ask in my grief- Why hast thou done it?' Why has she-'the desire of my eyes'-been so soon and so unexpectedly taken from us?-But I know that there is a need be for this chastisement-and I think I see why He has done it. I feel that it is in love and mercy. My heart was too deeply entangled with the things of the world; my affections too much here." She then dwells, with a pleasing plaintive fondness, on all that, in her dear departed child, was lovely in a mother's eyes, and winning and charming to a mother's heart. It was not precocious cleverness-nothing of the kind is ascribed to her; but various elements of engagingness, by which others were captivated as well as her parents. Like many other Christian mothers-from looking, perhaps, for more than ought to be expected of the manifestations of the influence of any such minute germs of religious instruction as it is possible to introduce into the mind at so tender an age-she was agonized with occasional misgivings of heart on the all-interesting point of her dear child's happiness in another world. About the salvation of infants she entertained no doubt. The torturing question was, whether a child of four years could be classed with infants. Her doubts settled down, however, on the right side-not the favourable side only, but, as I unhesitatingly believe it to be, the right side:-" Our other dear children are well; but her removal has made a sad blank in our happy family. Sometimes an unspeakable yearning after her almost overpowers me. When I can believe and feel that she is now one of the lambs in the heavenly fold, I feel resigned and happy. And I am thankful to say, that for the last two days my mind has been more tranquil; and I feel almost sure, that if I am found faithful when my own hour of departure arrives, she will welcome me to the eternal home." "I know," she adds afterwards, speaking of another of her children, "I ought not to seek another earthly object to supply her place, but try to have my treasure in heaven, and my heart's affections fixed on that dear Saviour to whom I do trust she has gone." I doubt not she is more than sure now, having found, to her unspeakable delight, the anticipated welcome.

She was now in a strait. Her beloved husband's health was good. He retained his full fitness for labour. But the thought of

coming home without him was one which nothing short of necessity could induce her for a moment to admit. She clung to hope. And so did he. Nothing on his part which warm and faithful affection could think of or do, for checking the progress of debility and restoring vigour, was unthought or undone. A pundall on the hill was converted into a cottage, as a place of more frequent resort, and for longer periods. "We feared," she says, in vindicating the little expense thus incurred, "from what the doctor said, that if I did not try some change immediately, we should very soon be called to separate for a year or two at least, as William felt he could not leave his post when his health was so good, unless I had been too ill to go alone. Now, though nothing in this world would give me greater pleasure than to revisit my dear home with him, I have no wish to do so without him. If I should be obliged eventually to leave him, I trust I shall be enabled to follow the path of duty; but we were anxious (and I feel sure that you will sympathize with our feelings) to put off the day of separation to as distant a period as possible. So we thought, and the doctor thought too, that if I could stay up here for a time, and, if spared, could spend the hot season always here, that I might be able to remain in this country for some years."

Thus, the feelings of nature and the convictions of duty combined, deferred her removal till, alas!-as the event has provedit was too late. Her case came to be pronounced hopeless, unless she could be removed; and yet her removal an imminent risk. The attempt, however, was resolved upon. "After the medical men here," writes

my son in a letter to myself since her death, gave her an unfavourable judgment regarding her case, I remember going to her bedside, and asking her how she felt. She calmly replied to my query, adding-' They seem to have taken away my hope.' 'Well, dearest,' I enjoined, they have not given us much ground for hope regarding your recovery; but there is one hope-a better and more glorious hope-which they cannot take from you.' 'O yes!' she said, I know it-I feel it; but I have such a wish to see dearest papa and mamma! And," adds he-for I cannot withhold the pleasing reflection"And she will yet see you. O what a delightful and soul-cheering thought it is, that we shall all see each other at last!-that we shall meet where sorrow is unknown, in our Father's house above-the house of many mansions,' which Jesus hath gone to prepare for them that love him!"

Letters from Ghooty, seventy miles from Bellary, on the way to Madras, were the first that gave us at home serious alarm. Her prostration of strength, we then discovered, was much greater than we had ever pre

viously imagined. But I can enter into no details. Thus far Mr. and Mrs. John S. Wardlaw accompanied them; there taking their farewell-with regard to the loved invalid, as they tremblingly anticipated, a final one-to make a tour of missionary labour before returning to Bellary. The journey from Bellary to Madras was one of 316 miles, which, at the tedious rate of about ten miles a-day, exclusive of Sabbaths, occupied thirty-four days! Yet, amidst extreme debility, and with repeated revivals and relapses, it was, through Divine mercy, accomplished. In calling upon us to unite with him in thanksgiving for the success thus far of an attempt from which medical advice had rather dissuaded, and at the thought of whose "greatness, difficulty, and risk, his own heart almost sunk within him," and which he undertook as the only resource in a case pronounced otherwise without hope, Mr. Thompson himself thus writes from Madras on the 13th of February:-" Well, it has pleased God to watch over and sustain the dear invalid. Short stages, frequent halts, and careful nursing, with the Divine blessing, have brought us 316 miles in thirty-four days, through a country in many places overrun with jungle, infested with wild beasts, and affording miserable accommodations. We had two palankeens, one for dearest Jessie, and one for the ayah and our two younger children. Dear Ralph and myself made the journey on horseback." At Cuddapah, where they rested two days, and again at Naggery, Mrs. T. sunk so much that the result was seriously apprehended. Not," says Mr. T., " that she then, or now, or at any other time, had any unwillingness to depart; but she prayed that, if it were the Divine will, she might be spared to her sorrowing husband and our beloved children. She once more rallied, and we came on to Trippasore, where we met with Mr. Drew, and remained two days. He came on with us to Madras; and in his commodious, quiet house we have been staying." At Madras she sunk again, and again revived. Their cabin was secured in the "Vernon." Everything was done that could be done for the comfort of the dear invalid, and the sea voyage was now looked to--still with many fears as the only remaining earthly means of a more permanent rallying. "May it please our heavenly Father to bless our feeble endeavours, and to spare the life so precious to us all! If we are spared to reach England, I shall consult the best medical advice in London, and shall then hope to bring my beloved and our dear children to Glasgow, via Huddersfield"-(the residence of his own relations.) This was written ten days before her departure. And in ignorance of that departure, and in "trembling hope" of yet seeing her, we might still have remained, but

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for the express from Madras to this country, conveying the tidings of the second and more successful engagement with the Sikhs. This afforded an opportunity of writing again ere he sailed; and although his letter was written in much agitation, and was meant for no eyes but those of parents and relatives at home, yet I feel as if I should fail to do justice either to him or to the departed, were I to suppress it. It is creditable to the characters of both; and it will awaken a responding chord in the hearts of many a domestic circle. The letter is dated 24th February, 1849:

Yester

"MY EVER LOVED AND MUCH HONOURED PARENTS,-I write to you with a heavy heart; and in doing so, I know the sorrow which will fill your hearts on the receipt of this. May the God of all grace sustain you under this heavy trial! Our beloved Jessie has been received up into heaven.' day morning, at eight o'clock, her happy spirit took its flight. This morning, at daybreak, we committed her mortal remains to the tomb. She lies in the mission buryingground. And since commencing this, I have been interrupted by the sculptor, who is to erect over her a granite tomb. This will be one memorial of our tenderly beloved Jessiebut three sweet children are left me, the pledges of our love. I resign them to you,' she said with her last breath, and I resign them to God!' Dear, dear children!-my heart bleeds for them-deprived so early of a mother's care and love! It was long before my beloved J. could give them and her poor husband up. The night before she died, I was sitting on a morah near her couch, when dear little Jessie came and stood near me. My beloved looked at her with inexpressible tenderness, and said-'Sweet child! I can. not but think I shall be petmitted to play with her again, with her nice little cot and drawers.' Dear Ralph and I had been to the ship, fitting up the cabin ready for our reception the next day; but I found the noise on board so great, that I thought it better to wait until this morning before I should take my Jessie on board. God, in his great mercy, made wiser and better arrangements for her. Deep as is my present affliction, it would have been much increased had she died on shipboard; or, what more probably would have been the case, in her passage to the ship. All our baggage was taken on board on Thursday; and the vessel was to sail on the Sunday morning. But God, in his all-wise providence, is now detaining it here until Wednesday next, the 28th instant. This gives me a little time; and further, enables our esteemed missionary brother, Mr. Drew, to go with us to Pondicherry. Had the 'Vernon' sailed punctually to the time appointed, my distress would have been greatly increased. Thus the Lord 'doeth all things well.' Our trials

have their alleviations. Yet with all their alleviations, how heavy are they to bear! I feel extremely depressed and desolate. The sight of my darling children arouses me for a little; but it is only to add to my grief. Their dear mother gone-the burden of their education for both worlds on myself alone, my heart sinks within me. Dear, dear children, your best earthly friend has been removed, and your poor father is agitated and perplexed. Dear Willy and Jessie scarcely know their loss; and dear Ralph knows it but imperfectly. The dear little fellow and I have wept and prayed together; and I trust that this affliction may be sanctified to us both. I feel that I have needed chastisement; but the stroke is indeed grievous. My dearest Jessie, up to an hour before her death, indulged hope of recovery; but she was quite prepared for her great change. We have frequently, daily, spoken together on divine things; and excepting once, for a few moments, when her spirit seemed to be depressed, her hope has been firm. She was remarkably placid during her long illness-nay, at times cheerful. About two hours before her death, she tried to encourage my fainting heart, by telling me that she was not so ill as she appeared to be. Her end was very peaceful-without a struggle or a groan-the breathing out of her spirit. One day, when speaking to her, she quoted with much feeling the words of a half-witted man who had been brought to the knowledge of the truth-(another 'poor Joseph!')

'I am a poor sinner, and nothing at all;
But Jesus Christ is all in all.'

This was the prevailing habit of her mind. She trusted in Christ with all simplicity and confidence. And he was very gracious in his dealings with her. My beloved Jessie you committed to my poor care now more than eight and a half years ago-and they have been happy years to me. She was a wise and faithful counsellor, and a most affectionate wife. As a mother, she was equalled by few, and surpassed by none. Now she is gone, and I am strangely desolate. The world assumes a very altered aspect. I feel too much paralyzed to write more. I commend

my beloved children and myself to your sympathy and prayers. You, I am sure, will not forget us. May your hearts be comforted with gracious influences from above! Dear Ralph unites in warmest love to you all.Your ever affectionate son,

"WILLIAM THOMPSON. "I have with difficulty written this letter. You, I am sure, will excuse it."

We did not think it needed excuse; and neither, I trust, will the reader. In mentioning similar details of his sister's departure, her brother, writing from Bellary, says"May we follow her faith! That faith was

unassuming, but sincere and firm. It kept her mind in peace, calm and submissive, during all her illness; for she never breathed a murmuring word. It sustained her in the moment of dissolution-and now she is reaping its full reward in glory, in 'fulness of joy and pleasures for evermore!' We feel greatly her loss; for we loved her much. And to you, and to her fond and affectionate mamma, it will be a severe trial, a trial in which all around you will share. On dear William [Thompson] the stroke falls heavily indeed; and he feels it very keenly. He was very fond of Jessie, and would have done anything for her. This must make the sorrow of his heart all the deeper. Poor dear fellow! we feel much for him. May the Lord sustain and comfort his spirit, and pour into the wound he has inflicted the healing balm! He is now, with his dear children-God bless them! on the bosom of the mighty deep. May the winds and waves have charge concerning him and his little ones, and may they all be carried in peace and safety to the shores of our native land! It will be a trial for you to meet them; but the promise stands-As thy days, so shall thy strength be! The truth of that promise you have often experienced, and will experience to the last."

The partiality of a father, and the unanticipated extent of this communication, conenr in interdicting any sketch of character. He may be permitted to say, in a single sentence, that, young as she was when she left her home in a capacity so serious and responsible, being only in her nineteenth year, she possessed a well-cultivated mind, a more than ordinarily thoughtful and sound judgment, a discriminative prudence, a buoyant elasticity and playfulness of spirit, warmth of heart, and tender susceptibility of feeling, such as rendered her, like most others of a similar temperament, occasionally somewhat oversensitive, or what in common speech is termed touchy, but only for the moment, neither sullen nor resentful. And her whole character was imbued with the hallowing influence of an early, enlightened, and deep-seated piety. She was a devotedly affectionate and dutiful child. Her character in other relations has already appeared.

It is impossible not to mark special coincidences, even though there is no conclusion whatever to be drawn from them. It was on the 28th day of February, 1841, that my daughter, Mrs. Reid, sailed from Madras, a widow, with her five fatherless children, on her return to this country, leaving behind the precious dust of a husband and child: it was on the same day of the same month, the 28th of February, 1849, that my son-in-law, Mr. Thompson (who, on the former occasion, met at Madras, in the agony of disappointed

hopes, the widow and family of him with whom he had joyfully anticipated a reunion in their happy and harmonious labours, and went to Bellary to weep over his grave) sailed for this country, a widower, with his three motherless children, leaving behind him the precious dust of a wife and child. The dead, in the far land, do not, indeed, all rest in the same hallowed spot. But, in the terms of my son's letter-" Thanks be to God! whereever we are called to deposit the ashes of those loved ones who sleep in Jesus'whether in the bosom of the earth or in the

bosom of the trackless deep-whether in a land of strangers or in the place of our fathers' sepulchres'-we can say with tears of mingled grief and gladness-' Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from henceforth: they rest from their labours, and their works do follow them!"-Yes; and as, from Britain and from India alike, the spirits of those who "die in the Lord" find their way to the same heaven, so, in due time, will their sleeping dust, their raised and glorified bodies; that, body and soul together, they may "BE EVER WITH THE LORD!"

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4

CHEAP EDITION OF THE LATE REV. T. SCOTT'S

COMMENTARY.

WE have no words to express the delight we feel in ascertaining that the proprietors of this standard work have resolved on giving to the public a cheap but perfect edition, with all the author's last corrections and additions, including fifteen maps and sixty-nine scriptural illustrations, and a complete topical index.

The edition is to be in six volumes quarto, containing nearly 5000 pages, and the paper and printing of the best quality.

The price, to subscribers, instead of eight guineas or six, the former charge, is to be three guineas, one-half its present cost.

All who wish to avail themselves of this splendid offer, which reflects great credit on the proprietors of the work, are requested, without delay, to send in their names to Messrs. Seeleys, Fleet-street, or Messrs. Hatchard, Piccadilly.

The subscribers must accompany their names with a post-office order for Twenty Shillings, in part payment, and the proprietors engage that, within nine months from the 2 I

receipt of said subscription, a perfect copy, done up in cloth boards, shall be forwarded to the subscriber upon payment of the remaining 43s.

This is one of the greatest boons ever offered to the reading public.

ANECDOTE OF COWPER.

"OUR mentioning Newton's Treatise on the Prophecies," says Mr. Cowper, "brings to my mind an anecdote of Dr. Young, who you know died lately at Welwyn. Dr. Cotton, who was intimate with him, paid him a visit about a fortnight before he was seized with his last illness. The old man was then in perfect health. The antiquity of his person, the gravity of his utterance, and the earnestness with which he discoursed about religion, gave him, in the Doctor's eye, the appearance of a prophet. They had been delivering their sentiments upon this book of Newton, when Young closed the conferences thus:- My friend, there are two considerations upon which my faith in Christ is built as upon a rock. The fall of man, the redemption of man, and the resurrection of man, the three cardinal articles of our religion, are such as human ingenuity could never have invented, therefore they must be divine. The other argument is this:-If the prophecies have been fulfilled, (of which there is abundant demonstration,) the Scripture must be the word of God; and if the Scripture is the word of God, Christianity must be true."-Cowper's Life, vol. i. p. 41.

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"This Treatise on the Prophecies," continues Cowper, serves a double purpose; it not only proves the truth of religion, in a manner that never has been, nor ever can be controverted; but it proves likewise, that the Roman Catholic is the apostate, and the anti-christian church, so frequently foretold both in the Old and New Testaments. Indeed, so fatally connected is the refutation of popery with the truth of Christianity, when the latter is evinced by the completion of the prophecies, that, in proportion as light is thrown in upon the one, the deformities and errors of the other are more plainly exhibited. But I leave you to the book itself. In the main, it is so interesting, that I am sure you will like it."-Ib. p. 42.

To use the most holy name in the universe for no purpose, or a bad one, contrary to his own express commandment;-to pass the Sabbath-day, and the succeeding days, weeks, and months, and years, without one act of private devotion, one confession of our sins, or one thanksgiving for the numberless blessings we enjoy;-to hear the word of God in public with a distracted attention, or with none at all;-to absent ourselves voluntarily from the blessed communion, and to live in the total neglect of it, though our Saviour

has charged it upon us with an express injunction, are the common and ordinary liberties which the generality of professors allow themselves: and what is this but to live without God in the world? Many causes may be assigned for this anti-christian spirit, so prevalent among nominal Christians; but one of the principal I take to be their utter forgetfulness that they have the word of God in their possession.-Couper.

CITY ROAD CONGREGATIONAL CHAPEL.

THE laying of the foundation-stone of the Congregational Chapel in the City Road, on the site lately occupied by the Orphan Working School.

This interesting ceremony took place on Monday, July 2. The site is, in many respects, a very eligible one, and the style and character of the projected building are very suitable. The foundation-stone was laid by the Rev. Dr. Leifchild, who delivered a very appropriate and impressive address. The Rev. C. Gilbert, the Rev. Mr. Woodwark, the Rev. J. C. Gallaway, the Rev. H. Allon, and the Rev. Mr. Viney, took part in the religious exercises of the occasion. The attendance was very numerous, a considerable portion of which proceeded to the British School Room, Pentonville, where a public tea-meeting was held. Dr. Morison presided, and addresses were delivered by the Rev. C. Gilbert, the Rev. J. C. Harrison, the Rev. T. Aveling, the Rev. C. Dukes, the Rev. J. C. Gallaway, and the Rev. Dr. Leifchild.

The building is undertaken by the London Congregational Chapel Building Society, a society which was formed in 1848, which contemplates the erection of a large number of chapels, in those districts of the metropolis where they are most needed, and which is so constituted as to promote the united action of the Congregational Ministers and Churches of London in the permanent and ever increasing work of chapel extension within its precincts. The Society has already made grants, to the extent of £1200, in aiding the erection of the chapel at Haverstock Hill, and the chapel at Notting Hill; and undertakes this chapel in the City Road, as the first of a series which it is hoped it will be enabled to build in important positions in London. The present amount of subscriptions in aid of the operations of the Society is £3300, a sum which it is obvious must be increased to a considerable extent, in order to enable the Committee to carry out its general scheme on a large scale.

Contributions in aid of the object will be very thankfully received by the Treasurer, Mr. Eusebius Smith, Camomile Street, Bishopsgate Street, and by the Secretary, the Rev. J. C. Gallaway, 10, Cambridge Terrace, Middleton Road, Dalston.