powerful enemy. Ah! it is a divine rod and staff which support the saint-it is the "sword of the Spirit," and the "shield of faith" which he employs, and with these weapons he is "made more than a conqueror through Him who hath loved him,"

It was a lovely sight to behold a being so young, so fragile, prepared to meet the fell adversary of man; and sceptical, indeed, must that heart have been who could not, from such a spectacle, be convinced of the divine character of " our most holy faith."

The sun was setting on a beautiful evening in May, when the undivided family of Merton Lodge, with the beloved and pious Vicar, were assembled in the dying chamber of Emma. Caroline's hand was in hers. That hand she had so often pressed, which had been often clasped at the same moment at the morning or the evening prayer, and which was shortly to strike undying tones from a heavenly harp.

"You will soon see me no more on earth, Caroline. The spring will return, but not for me. You will see the roses bloom which we planted together; but I shall be no longer at your side. You will hear alone our birds sing their evening song, and you will no more behold me gliding with you down our favourite

stream; but I go away to a brighter land, where

the flowers are not deaths.' I shall enjoy an endless spring time, such as we used to read about in sacred lyrics. I shall dwell on the banks of the pure river of water of life; I shall hear the song of Moses and the Lamb;' and though I dearly love you, and all my precious ones around me, yet I am going to be with Him 'whom not having seen I love, in whom, though now I see Him not, yet believing, I rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory.'"

Having from a child known the holy Scriptures, Emma possessed a ready facility for repeating passages therefrom, and as great an aptness in applying them to a particular purpose. Being favoured for a short interval with strength sufficient for the exercise, she deemed it desirable to receive once more on earth the symbols of her Saviour's dying love ; and the worthy Mr. Walsinghame approached her couch to administer the Sacrament to the expiring girl.

In the chamber of death, this service, (at all times most solemn and interesting,) becomes peculiarly impressive. To the spectators of the present scene, there were circumstances which rendered it remarkably affecting. The judicious and earnest manner of the minister of God; the

beautiful, soul-subduing language of the Communion; the solemn silence of an apartment soon to be hushed in the stillness of death; the pale emaciated form of the youthful dying Christian, with her hand stretched out to take the bread and to clasp the cup; her faint response, "I am not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy table;" her heavenly look of peace as she heard the blessed announcement, Christ's blood was shed for thee, and be thankful;" and last the benediction, "The peace of God which passeth all understanding, keep your hearts and minds," -all furnished sources of never-to-be-forgotten interest.

The holy service being concluded, the expiring Emma begged her fond brother to draw

near

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Edward, never forsake the faith you have embraced and as yet have sought to maintain; may you and yours continue stedfast unto death, and you shall receive a crown of life!"

To Theodore she spoke affectionately and solemnly. To her parents she expressed her warmest gratitude for having trained her in the right path, and prayed for their future peace and final blessedness, when they should receive "the end of their faith, even the salva

tion of their souls." Little Agnes she kissed and commended to the care of Him who “ carries the lambs in his arms and bears them in his bosom." Exhausted with the effort, she sunk upon her pillow. A drop of water was placed upon her parched tongue; she could not relish it. Caroline feelingly expressed her grief at the circumstance. "Grieve not at that," whispered the expiring Emma; "my Saviour, when he was dying on the cross, had vinegar given him to drink, mingled with gall."

Night drew on, and the group still clung about the gloomy bed of death. The fluttering spirit sought its native skies: the dying girl opened her eyes once more, glanced around the apartment with a look that seemed even then to gather in the bright scenery of heaven, and closed them again for ever.

CHAPTER XI.

"For jealousy-it wounds their weaker mind,
To miss one favour which their neighbours find."
CRABBE.

A SMALL grave stone, with a truncated pillar, bearing a simple inscription, marked the last resting place of Emma in the churchyard of Orpington, and "many a time and oft" would Caroline direct her footsteps towards the melancholy spot, while the villagers would watch her as she moved along, and say, "She goeth unto the grave to weep there."

Among several of the poor inhabitants of the town the death of Emma occasioned no little sorrow; she had been the "district visitor," an office highly honorable and worthy of being held in estimation by young females, favoured with the time and opportunities for usefulness. We would gladly hail the appearance of more willingness on the part of mem