a lady had sent to her. She then took them in her hand, and, observing one of them faded, said, 'Look at that; it is fast decaying,-aye, and the rest will soon follow.' Admiring their exquisite tints, she said, as if rapt in admiration at the glories of their Creator, When could man form these?' Sitting up a little one afternoon, she said, 'I am thinking of the blessed company of the redeemed, when I am sitting so dull here.' . . .

"For a few days before her death she was extremely weak, and unable to speak. We had all committed her to God, in the joyful hope of meeting with her in heaven, but not expecting that we should ever again hear her voice upon earth. On Sabbath, the last day of her earthly existence, and the prelude of that eternal Sabbath of delight which shall never end, she did not speak at all, but had her eyes and her hands often lifted up to heaven in prayer. About eleven at night she became much weaker, and desired that we should all be called in. When we were gathered around her dying bed, she again entreated of us to seek the Lord while he might be found, to call upon him while he is near. Hearing her sisters sobbing aloud, she said with great tenderness, 'O be composed, when the peace of Jesus'; but her words died away. We then thought death was about to release her from mortal bondage, and usher her into the Paradise of delights; but, a little after, her countenance became brighter than it had been for many days; an expression of ineffable joy beamed upon it; her eye seemed dazzled as if she had never again expected to look upon the scenes of time; and, after wandering over us all, it fixed upon Anna. She said, in a tone and with an expression which I shall never forget, Anna! Anna Bayne! my sister, am I come back to you all? I thought I was going to heaven.' Anna said, 'May the presence of God be with you.' She replied, in a manner awfully solemn, 'He is present with me,'-as if she had already seen things unutterable. Then, pursuing her own train of feeling, she said a little after, 'I am lost in astonishment; I cannot fathom it.' John repeating to her, 'Though I walk through the valley and shadow of death, I will fear no evil,' she finished the passage, and then exclaimed, ‘He compasseth me about with songs of deliverance.' When my brother repeated another passage, descriptive of the Christian's

hope, she uttered with a loud voice, 'A hope so great, and so divine, may trials well endure.' She desired us all to kiss her, commending us to God, and pronouncing over us her dying blessing. Her countenance retained its expression of joy, and, without a struggle, she fell asleep in Jesus, about half-past six in the morning. I shall never forget the aspect of that morning, or the scene of desolation which her chamber presented, when the immortal spirit had taken its flight to heaven. To her, it was a morning without clouds. I have written you these things, my dearest L., in the earnest hope that you may profit by them. We are commanded to exhort one another, and so much the more that the day is approaching. Ever yours. M. B."

The triumph over death, the last enemy, which was granted to Eliza, and of which such an interesting account is given in the preceding letters, was most glorious; and the contemplation of it was greatly blessed to Margaret, who, like the other sisters, had been unremitting in attendance during the last scene. It excited in her the deepest sympathy, not only with the bodily sorrows and sufferings of the patient, who was deservedly so dear; but, what indicated the highest Christian affection, with her spiritual peace and joy, with her longings for deliverance from the body of sin and death, and a glorious introduction into the immediate presence of the Lord and Saviour. Her confidence in the Redeemer's love and faithfulness, her resignation to his sovereign dispensations, her gratitude, so difficult to exhibit in the hour of trial, for mercies received, and at present enjoyed, and her realization of the ineffable glories of heaven, were strikingly apparent to all who had in any degree the felicity of her society. They appeared to myself so remarkable, that their expression is even at this moment vividly before my mind; and, when I witnessed them, I thought the influence of divine grace not less remarkably manifested in the tenderly sympathizing sister than in the sufferer, who was about to be removed from her tearful eyes. The exhortations which were addressed to her, respecting a closer walk with God, and an increased devotedness to the Redeemer's cause, sank into her inmost soul; and she solemnly vowed, that, with aid from above, she would give them a practical attention, in a more unreserved consecration of her talents, acquirements, time, and influence, to the service of God.

CHAPTER IV.

ENGAGEMENT TO BE MARRIED-VIEWS AND FEELINGS IN THE PROSPECT OF PROCEEDING TO INDIA AS A MISSIONARY-EXTRACTS FROM HER CORRESPONDENCE-FAREWELL VISIT TO GREENOCK-LETTERS TO MR WILSON ON HIS ORDINATION TO THE WORK OF THE MINISTRY, AND TO OTHER CHRISTIAN FRIENDS-MARRIAGE.

No long period had passed away, when circumstances, ordered by Him who regulates every event connected with human destiny appeared in a remarkable manner to harmonize with the aspirations and purposes of the subject of this Memoir. Her friendship with myself had ripened into that mutual regard and affection, which, viewed in connection with my future prospects, seemed to warrant and invite our entering into the most endeared relation known on earth. With the fullest confidence in her capacity to minister to my happiness, and, through God's assistance, to contribute in an eminent degree, by her rare endowments of nature and grace, to the advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom in India,—to which, on the completion of my literary and theological studies, and with the appointment of the directors of the Scottish Missionary Society, I had for some time looked forward as the scene of my labours,-I invited her to be the sharer of my joys and sorrows, of my toil and its reward. She had humbly and faithfully prosecuted the work of self-examination, and asked counsel of the Lord in fervent and persevering prayer; and she considered it her duty cheerfully to acquiesce in my proposal. It is impossible for me to describe the joy which I felt in the happy prospects which, in that gracious Providence which I can never sufficiently adore, were thus opened up to me; and which, bright though they were, have been more than a hundredfold realized. Respecting the views and feelings connected with her decision, I can speak without reserve. She had a lively

sense of the trials which she would be called to endure on leav

ing Scotland, and those many relatives and friends who had long regarded her with the greatest fondness, in whose society, and Christian and literary sympathies, she had so much delighted, and who were on many accounts dear to her as her own soul. She formed a correct estimate, also, of the perils of a foreign pilgrimage, and the hardships of a determined warfare with the powers of darkness, and their votaries, in the "high places of the field." She looked, however, to that Saviour, who left the bosom of the Father, disrobing himself of his glory, and who assumed the lowly nature of man, and lived a life of unparalleled labour and suffering, and presented himself as a sacrifice on the altar of his Father's justice, that he might accomplish the redemption of his people; and she felt that the infinity of his love could meet with no return, even with no adequate expression of gratitude, in the costliest offering which she could make, and the most painful course of self-denial on which she could enter. She hailed with joy the opportunity presented to her of "redeeming the time," by commencing a system of personal exertion in the most glorious cause. Though conscious of utter insufficiency in herself for the discharge of the duties, and the endurance of the afflictions which awaited her, she knew that the grace of Christ was sufficient for her, and that the path of humble obedience was the most likely to invite spiritual blessings. The promises respecting the future glory and perpetuity of the kingdom of Christ, which are to be found in the Bible, were realized by her in all their fulness and certainty. Her feelings were those of zeal for the honour of God, and benevolence towards those who had long sat in the region of the shadow of death; and she anticipated the highest enjoyment from their gratification. She was ardently desirous to participate in the honourable work of building the temple of the Lord; but she felt that she would be in possession of a privilege, even though she should be permitted to do nothing more than to encourage one who might attempt to advance it. Time, and all the things of time, whether connected with enjoyment or suffering, were viewed by her in the light of eternity.

Her own letters, written in the prospect of leaving Scotland, manifest the exercises of her mind, in relation to the state into

which she was about to enter, and her dedication to the work of the Redeemer, as will appear from the following extracts.

"22 COMELY BANK, EDINBURGH, April 24, 1828.

It is a subject most deeply important, whether we view it in connection with our individual prospects, or with the building up, and perfecting of Zion's glory, which is declared in Scripture to be a building of God, the dwelling-place of his majesty, and the brightest monument which his power and wisdom have reared upon the ruins of our fallen world. We have only to look into the mysteries of redeeming grace and mercy, to survey the trophies of the cross, or to widen our field of vision, by embracing within its range those prophetic intimations of glory and blessedness which gladdened, in distant prospect, the minds of prophets and holy men, to have our love to Christ strengthened, and to feel our sacred and unalterable obligations to render him our entire and undivided services. In surveying the bygone course of my existence, which seems to resemble a record of events once engraven in living characters, but now dimmed and faded by time, I have to mourn the largest portion of it spent in the service of the world. When I recall the more solemn seasons in which I vowed allegiance to God, and professed to offer him the homage of my heart, with the uncompromising obedience of my life, I can perceive much insincerity; and every subsequent act seems only to have been characterised by a deeper rebellion, and a greater tendency to resort to those unhallowed expedients by which the world allures its votaries, in their chase after happiness. I have been especially led to deplore my inactivity and want of zeal in the service of Christ. This inactivity has been, for many years, a source of much infelicity to me; and, I doubt not, it has proved one powerful mean of retarding my advancement in the divine life. It has led me to question whether love to Christ was, or ever could have been, the pervading principle of my obedience, seeing that neither the enactments of God's holy authority, nor the principles of divine compassion and love, brought into full display in the redemption of our world, nor the spectacle of this world itself,-shut out from happiness, and yet not complete in misery, for no other reason but that it is wrapped up in an impenetrable security,-had power to awaken me from my