fast; she accordingly went at once to see her for the last time. As she approached the bed, the dear lamb looked up with a sweet composure on her countenance, and said: "I am going! I am going! but there is hope ahead now! hope ahead! like a little star guiding me onward :-I feel very calm."

A few minutes before the vital spark fled, she seemed to be engaged in prayer, and from the expression of her countenance, it seemed to those around her, as if the glories of heaven were already revealed. She then raised one of her hands over her face for a minute, then gently laid it down again, and sweetly sank to her everlasting rest, as we have good reason to believe, through the adorable mercy of her crucified but risen Lord, who testified, "Whosoever cometh to me, I will in no wise cast off." But let none presume, remembering that we cannot turn, or come to Him, when we please; it is only as we co-operate with his grace, and the offers of mercy, at the time we feel Him to be near, calling and warning and wooing us; we must not dare to choose our own time and way, but be willing to be accounted fools for his blessed name's sake, and despising the shame for the hope that is set before us.

Oh, what is there in this world worthy to be put in competition with a well-grounded hope in a dying hour, that our peace is made with God? or what will not a man give in exchange for his soul's peace at such an hour?

THERE is a peace and a joy “which passeth all understanding :”—“ which the world can neither give nor take away." It dwells with the pure in heart-with the meek and lowly followers of a crucified and risen Lord—with "those who, by patient continuance in well-doing, seek for glory, and honor, and immortality." It is not to be found in the halls of revelry, nor in the pomp of earth: they are transient, it is eternal; they are earthly, it is heavenly--a joy that overleaps the barriers of time, and looks beyond the confines of the tomb, into the rest prepared for the people of God. The discord of earth may not mar its harmony, nor the storms of time tarnish its brightness.

He who has yielded in child-like faith and simple obedience to the requirements of his Heavenly Father, as made known in the secret of the heart, can testify to the preciousness of this joy: and though his dedication may cost him the smiles of the world, yet, conscious that he has in their place, the approving smile of Him who rules the universe, with his face heavenward he presses on, counting all as naught and dross, that he might win Christ,

What to us in a few short years, will be those vanities in which we now delight?—When that solemn moment arrives wherein we must yield up all that we fondly cherish here— when "this mortal must put on immortality, and this corruptible must put on incorruption"-what will anything avail us, that fails to alleviate the anguish of a soul just entering unprepared into an awful eternity?-What but religion, what but true experimental Christianity, what but the soul sustaining

peace and animating joy of the regenerated believer, can rob death of its sting, or the grave of its victory?

And what hinders us from becoming partakers of this joy -this "peace which passeth all understanding," and with which the stranger may not intermeddle? What retards the flow of this holy peace, and shuts out the smiles of the Prince thereof? Is it not the world, "the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life?" Is it not that the things of time and sense have stolen our affections, and the ardor of our souls is lost in the pursuit of worldly vanities? Remember, it is in proportion to our obedience and dedication, our obedience to the dictates of the Holy Spirit in the heart, that we can become partakers of the Christian's joy,-only as our will is brought into conformity to the will of our Father in heaven, that we can realize the truth of the declaration, "Thou wilt keep in him perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in Thee."

Surely we have every inducement to close in with the offers of redeeming love and mercy, and, "forgetting the things which are behind, press forward towards the mark for the prize of the high calling of God, in Christ Jesus our Lord." We have an unerring witness in our own hearts; we have the testimonies of thousands who have gone before us, to the allsufficiency of that power of Divine Grace, which, would we but yield thereto, would guide us into all truth. And, more than all, we have a Saviour, whose mercy is unfathomable, and, who willeth not the death of any, but that all should return, repent, and live." The way is plain, and though narrow, and appearing hard to be trodden, by the unregenerate, it is easy to the true disciple, and is the only one to the Kingdom of Heaven -none can enter by any other. Rise up, then, and shake thyself from the dust of the earth-cast behind thee all hindering things-seek to know a reconciliation with Him who judgeth righteously, and by a close attention to the unflattering monitor, the witness for truth in thy heart, and an increase in faithfulness and dedication, realize for thyself the unspeakable joy of the Christian's hope.

Published by the Tract Association of Friends, No. 304 Arch Street, Philadelphia.

THE

Power of Divine Grace

AS MANIFESTED IN THE

LIFE OF WILLIAM CHAPMAN.

PHILADELPHIA:
PUBLISHED BY THE TRACT ASSOCIATION OF FRIENDS,

No. 304 ARCH STREET.

THE POWER OF DIVINE GRACE.

WILLIAM CHAPMAN was a native of Darlington, and, when a boy, was a pupil at one of the schools in that town; after which he followed the occupation of a tailor. He was a youth of excellent abilities, and of a kind, good-natured, and cheerful disposition, which, while it won for him the regard of his companions, rendered him an easy prey to the seductions of evil association; and it appears that he had imbibed a taste for strong drink, and an inclination towards infidelity, previous to going to London in search of employment.

It was during his residence in that city that he became confirmed in those habits and principles which occa sioned him such bitter repentance on a dying bed. After his return home, he continued his course of intemperance, and became the daring advocate of infidelity, until the summer of 1843, when he was seized, whilst in a public-house, with hemorrhage from the lungs, from the effects of which he never recovered. It was whilst laboring under the weakness consequent upon this attack, that he was visited by C. J., the following account of whose early interviews is given in his own words:

"I called upon William Chapman for the first time, on July 24th, 1843, and was informed that he was so weak that he could not be visited; I called a second time, but he was asleep; on my next call I met with him, inquired after his health, and gently introduced