I will only add,—and I rejoice that I am able to do so,—that each of the brothers is now actively engaged in the work of God. James is the superintendent and manager of a Wesleyan Sunday-school; and in point of perseverance, and constancy in the prosecution of duty, he is quite a pattern. Thomas and George are very acceptable local preachers in the Wesleyan connection. May they ever be zealous in every good work, and have grace to continue faithful unto the end.
“He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.” Psalm cxxvi, 6.
“Cast thy bread upon the waters; for thou shalt find it after many days.” Eccles. xi, 1.
The following letter has been put into the writer’s hands since the preceding pages were in the press, and will be read with deep interest, as containing an account of the death of one of the teachers of T—— street school, from the pen of her brother, James’s colleague:—
“My beloved sister entered into the joy of her Lord about half-past twelve this morning. I sat up in company with Mrs. B. and another friend—it was a delightful night, there was a calm and cloudless sky, and the full moon shone in at the window in spite of the blind and rush-light. I rose at last, and extinguished it, and drew up the blind; it was a beautiful and a solemn sight! I shall never forget it. Jessy found it hard work to breathe, and at times, I almost indulged a wish that she might be speedily released. But I did not dare to pray for life or death; ‘Thy will be done,’ was my motto, and all was well. Seeing her eyes often turned upward, I spoke, and pointed upward,
‘Yonder’s your house and portion fair;’
she hesitated a moment, and then added,—’M—y tr—easure—and—my heart are there.’
“At another time, observing her in great pain for the want of breath, and at the same time moving her lips in silent prayer or praise, I said,—’As thy day, so shall thy strength be,’ She replied with feeling, ‘Yes.’ At another time we understood her to say ‘Jesus,’ with something like energy in her voice; but whether in prayer or praise we could not decide, as the voice was thick, and rather indistinct, although loud, and many words could not be understood because of this.
“The last word I caught was ‘Glory,’ and a very appropriate one it was to bid adieu to this lower world, and enter that which is above. I attempted to move her head a little, in order to let her see the beautiful moon once more, as it shone on every part of her, except just the forehead and eye; when she said, ‘Don’t bring me back from heaven,’ and when we could not understand her words, we were convinced by the tone of her voice that pleasure and joy reigned within. Her hands had been for some time down by her sides; but a few minutes before death she raised them gently up, and