AS -^^^ <\y. V] 1 12 we may safely affirm, that among those who knew how to appreciate what is truly great and good, there seldom was one, wherever she was known, more highly and sincerely esteemed while she lived, or more deeply and deservedly lamented when she died. To give any suitable description of her then is a task for which I am not adequate. I knew her well indeed, being privileged with her friendship for many years. But my very knowledge of her satisfies me that I cannot do justice to her memory. I cannot speak of her as her peculiar merits deserve. I cannot speak of her as the feelings of my own heart would desire. This, how- ever, I regret the less, as her life and character must bo so familiar to the minds of many of you, and so strongly and distinctly impressed upon them, as to require from me no illustration to make you either know or understand it. There was nothing hidden or disguised or e(|uivocal about it. It was pure, gentle, kind, a good word for all, and an unchari- table thought for none. There was a consistency in her mode of speaking and of acting which could not fail to command admiration. And, indeed, in the endeared respect with which many of you have regarded her, and in the silent but deep- felt sorrow which at this moment fills your bosoms, there are ample proofs that you are no strangers to all that high excel- lency by which she was so conspicuously distinguished. Into the domestic circle I must not venture, sacred at this mo- ment by the depth and freshness of its sorrows — and tell you how much she loved there and how much she was ])eloved. But I may speak of her as a friend ; and how many can Ijcar witness to me Avhen I say that her friendship was invaluable. It was warm, it was disinterested, it was liberal, it was unostentatious, it was unwavering and constant. And they who enjoyed it enjoyed a treasure, for there was both the willing- ness and the ability to give them the most substantial token? of her favor and regard, and never for a moment was her temper soured or her kindness chilled. I may speak of her i ew how tc ieldoni was i sincerely deservedly description . I knew ndsliip for itisfies me t speak of )ak of her This, how- must bo so 'ongly and 3m me no srstand it. d about it. m uncliari- i her mode command -vith which but deep- , there are ligh excel- led. Into : this mo- ld tell vou s beloved. y can bear n valuable, al, it was 1 they who 19 willing- :ial tokens t was her 'ak of her •as a Christian, ard she was sincere. Those who knew her best, can best g witness how faithfully and hal)itually she embodied her knowledge, and her principles, and her hope as a Christian, into her life and deportment, her daily walk and conversation. I firmly believe she was a Christian in heart and habit, in senti acnt and conduct, through the whole of life. No one knows better than myself, except the partner of her joys and cares, how conscientious and faithful and earnest, she was in the discharge of her spiritual duties, how active and assiduous in the care of her family, in giving counsel to its members, and in doing good to all with unaf- fected kindness, as she had opportunity. To act in all things on principle, and that of the iiighest and purest description, appeared to be her constant aim; and, judging from her conduct, this which formed her aim, was in no common degree her attainment. How pleasing, then, to me, to say unto you all, here is a character worthy of imitation, exhibiting the virtues and graces of the Christian life. Never was minister favored with a more faithful friend or a more devoted member of his church, and to her frequently have I been indebted for any encouragement that I have received in the labors of my office, and which is so highly prized by every minister of the gospel. She was an ornament to my church, a most exemplary member of my flock — one, whose place in the house of prayer was never empty, unless prevented by the Provi- 'lence of God. Oh, brethren, how many are there, who noAv hear me, of whom the same could be said when you come to die. Remember that a well-spent life brings its own reward, •• for the memory of the just is blessed." Her sickness was short — disease came insidiously upon her, and quickly pros- trated every power of mind and body. It was of little avail that we invited the sleeper to unite with us at a throne of grace ; the torpor of disease was too deep to permit even a momentary consciousness ; the car could no lonsrer distin^ruish as it had been wont the accents of divine love : faith had lost u il I iii'^ I i l! ' |! '. its vision in the dark cloud, and hope had powcrlessly fohled iijf her wings until the hour of dehverance. But, nevertheless,, faith and hope were there witldn the cloud, as the humble and unobtrusive piety of her past life had given us the token, and we doubt not they hav now obtained their fruition before the throne of God. How comfortable and reviving then is this truth, that the body which we commit to the dust, shall be restored to life again, that this corruptible shall put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality, under all the trials and afflictions of the present state ! Who that properly under- stands and believes it, but must reckon with the apostle, " that the suiferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed. In what glowing colors do the sacred scriptures describe the happi- ness of believers at the great day of Cln-ist's appearing, when the last trumpet shall sound, when the dead shall be raised from their graves, and their vile bodies shall be fashioned hke unto Christ's glorious body — when these two intimate com- panions, the soul and body, shall be joined together again in immortal union, and the redeemed of the Lord in their complete natures shall take possession of the kingdom pre- pared for them before the foundation of the world. Such are the cheering hopes which the gospel inspires ; such the animating prospects of immortality, and how admirably fitted, when cordially believed, to soothe the soul in its deepest sor- row ! But the gospel which informs us that the souls of the righteous do at death immediately pass into glory, that is, into a state of inconceivable bliss — into the society of an^-els and spirits of just men made perfect, into the immediate pre- sence of God and the Redeemer— likewise declares that the souls of the wicked shall descend into the prison of hell, into the company of devils and wicked spirits hke themselves, there to await their final and everlasting doom. They too shall be raised incorruptible, tliough not in -glory. They too shall be raised in power; but that power shall only Jil J jJ * ^"J