a corpse. I do not think she drew more than a dozen breaths after mother quitted the bedside. "One gentle sigh her fetters broke, We scarce could say 'She's gone,' Its seat before the throne.' 99 I called to mother, saying, “ Mother, she's gone." Mother, sister, and father came weeping to the bedside. Mother kissed her face and said, "Bless the Lord for answering my poor petitions on your behalf, my child, by shining upon you, removing all fear, and helping you to testify to His almighty faithfulness, mercy, and grace, before He took you to himself. I had faith given me to believe the Lord would grant me my desires, but I did not expect it so fully." As I went out that, to me, solemn morning (for the purpose of calling a neighbour to assist in laying her out), and lifted up my eyes and beheld the cloudless, starry vault of heaven, I could not help exclaiming, "Oh, what a blessed exchange for my, so recently suffering, but now for ever glorified, sister. Earth, with its sins, sorrows, afflictions, wearisome nights, and painful days, left behind, and heaven, "That land of pure delight," with all its inconceivable bliss, blessedness, holiness, peace, and eternal rest, for ever reached. No night there, no trouble, no sin, no care, no tempting, harassing devil, no evil heart of unbelief, no wondering how the scene will end. Oh, no. The harbour's reached; the journey's o'er. Every enemy vanquished; every foe defeated; the soul is out of gunshot of Satan : drinking at the fountain-head, basking in the effulgent glory of those holy realms, singing unto Him that loved her, and washed her from her sins in His own blood." These were the thoughts which pervaded my mind at this solemn, silent hour. And Oh, I do hope I shall one day realise the blessed import of them to my complete delight, and everlasting satisfaction. "My soul among yon blood-washed throng, Join in the everlasting song, And crown Him Lord of All." May the Lord, in infinite goodness, vouchsafe to every reader of these lines, to every single gleaner, both old and young, if His holy and sovereign will, the same mercy and grace which was so unexpectedly and undeservedly bestowed upon Harriet B., that they, like her, may be enabled, under the teaching of the Holy Spirit, in their dying moments, to say, Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me;" "Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.” 66 Oh Lord, grant Thy blessing upon this testimony, and upon the labours of the dear Editor of the LITTLE GLEANER ; from time to time, crown his efforts with abundant success, for Christ's sake. Amen.* Coventry, Dec. 30, 1872. JOHN BURTON. P.S. Since writing the foregoing, I have ascertained, from my mother, that Harriet was taken ill immediately after having walked from Kenilworth without her boots. Cold, shivering sensa tions, with pains in her feet and legs, seized her, *To this the Editor adds, and trusts each living reader will add, Amen. and the following Saturday she had to get upstairs on her hands and knees. Mother has also informed me that, upon one occasion, when sitting upright in her bed, looking through the window into the lane, and seeing the passers-by, Harriet said, “It does seem hard for me to sit here day after day, while others can walk about in good health, apparently enjoying themselves." This expression was quickly followed with "Not my will, but Thine be done." "Even so, Father, for so it seemeth good in Thy sight." J. B. ANSWER TO ENIGMA 1. Wilderness. Isa. xxxv. 1. 2. Issachar. Judg. v. 15. 3. Tabor. Psa. lxxxix. 12. 4. Hezekiah. Isa. xxxvii. 14. 5. Othniel. Judg. iii. 9. 6. Uzzah. 2 Kings xv. 13. 7. Timotheus. Rom. xvi. 21. 8. Manasseh. 2 Ch. xxxiii. 12. '9. Elim. Exodus xv. 27. 10. Youths. Isa. xl. 30. 11. Ebenezer. 1 Sam. vii. 12. 12. Canaan. Psa. cvi. 38. (Page 61). 13. Asher. Dent. xxxiii. 25. "WITHOUT ME YE CAN DO NOTHING."-John xv. 5. How oft the Christian's heart To make and keep it hard, 'Till Jesus comes 'twill not relent, The burdened Christian goes But oft he comes distressed away, When unbelieving fears How gladly he would cease to grieve, But love grows cold; he's made to prove When he by faith can see His title to the skies, From doubts and fears he's free ; He longs to hear his Saviour's voice, By Satan sorely tried, From foes concealed within. Tho' enemies abound, He goes securely through, When death at last draws nigh, ROSA F |