lived by the faith of the Son of God; and now, when pain and suffering engrossed almost all her thought, she was not left by that God in whom she had put her trust. A short time before her death, being reminded of her nearness to the eternal world, and asked whether she were resting upon the Saviour, she replied, "O, yes!

'Jesus, I rest in Thee,

In Thee myself I hide ;'" and then, after a pause, added,

"This all my hope, and all my plea, For me the Saviour died.""

A few minutes after, she peacefully passed away to the eternal mansions, where she now sees the King in His beauty, and takes part in the blessed song, "Worthy the Lamb," which in humbler strains she sang below. C.

MRS. MARY ANN BAYNES departed this life, at 45, Ladbroke-square, Notting-hill, February 15th, 1862, aged ninety. Her father was one of Mr. Wesley's earliest and favourite Local preachers; and she loved to speak of her personal recollections of that venerable servant of God. She distinctly remembered his impressive style in the pulpit, and his kind condescension toward children, of which latter she herself received many proofs. On one occasion she was present at the Cityroad chapel, when Mr. Wesley, occupying the pulpit, was surrounded by his Travelling preachers. After a short sermon to the congregation generally, he began to deliver an address to the preachers particularly,-when they arose en masse. She described the effect as most thrilling, Mr. Wesley himself not being one of the least affected of the company.

The mother of Mrs. Baynes, together with a few others, formed a plan for the regular visitation of the sick. On the arrival of Mr. Adam Clarke in London, he organized, from this beginning, "the Benevolent or Strangers' Friend Society;" which has been the means of so much good in the worst localities. The daughter recollected the joy and even pride she had felt on being entrusted with the delivery of sundry weekly subscriptions at the Foundery.

At the early age of seven, being anxious for her soul's salvation, she joined a class for children, under the guidance of one Sally Thompson; but, witnessing much inconsistency in her companions, she discontinued her attendance. At the age of eighteen, being

then a member of Mrs. Hester Ann Rogers's class, she obtained a clear view of her acceptance before God. And this happy confidence in the merits of her atoning Saviour she retained to the close of life.

Having attained her twenty-first year, she became the wife of Mr. William Baynes, late of Paternoster-row; where, and at their country residence, they enjoyed the friendship and society of the most eminent of the Wesleyan preachers stationed in London. Their intimacy with Dr. Adam Clarke terminated only with his death in 1832.

In the interim between the years 1815 and 1832, Mrs. Baynes suffered the loss of children, husband, and a large property. Yet her strong faith and Christian fortitude never failed her. With meekness she bowed to the rod, exclaiming with Job, "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away : blessed be the name of the Lord."

Mrs. Baynes was a class-leader during a period of thirty years. The names of some of the members of her class were well known. But the last twenty years of her life were spent with her daughter and son-in-law at Notting-hill; and, on her removal thither, she resigned her duties as leader, and enrolled her name in the class-book of an humble Christian in the Queen's-road, Bayswater. At that time Wesleyan Methodism had sunk in Bayswater to the lowest ebb. With the exception of the venerable Joseph Sutcliffe, and his daughters, she was precluded from the society of that body to which she had all her life been attached. She felt this privation acutely, until the excellent minister of Horbury chapel visited her, and by his heavenly conversation did much to supply the want. Meanwhile, she continued in church-membership with her old friends to the last.

The whole career of this pious lady was thoroughly consistent. She never

witnessed the commission of sin without

rebuking it; and the aptitude of her words to the occasion evinced great natural talent. With the Holy Scriptures, and the best hymns of the Wesleyan collection, she was 80 thoroughly conversant, that a suitable application of them never failed her. The strength of her mind, and the solidity of her judgment, were retained almost to the end.

In her latter days, however, she became extremely deaf, and was thereby shut out from religious intercourse. Now the treasures of her retentive memory

stood her in admirable stead; and she thus drew water out of the wells of salvation. On Sunday, July 22d, 1860, while suffering this privation, she said to her daughter early in the morning, "O! I have had such a glorious manifestation of the mercy and goodness of God, as I never expected to experience on this side of eternity; and I feel unutterably happy." Her contemplations on Divine love were often overpowering; and she would frequently exclaim, "God only knows the love of God." In her afflictions she cultivated a thankful spirit, and endeavoured to instil the same into others. Two days before her death, her son Henry endeavoured to bring to her auditory nerve the sound of a well-known hymn. When, completely baffled, he gave up, she sweetly observed, "In heaven, there will be no

impediments." She had for many years contemplated death as merely the gate of heaven; and after some one or two previous illnesses had expressed disappointment that they had not taken her home. When at length she was passing through the dark valley, she triumphantly exclaimed, "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.'

Happy spirit! Often and often she had emphatically repeated,

"There we shall see His face,

And never, never sin." And now she has entered into that beati fic state! May the influence of her goodness extend to successive generations.

Her remains were interred in the cemetery at Kensall-green; but an inscription to her memory also appears on the stone of her family grave in the burial-ground behind the City-road chapel. E. A. G.

intercourse with a large number of young persons, many of whom were led to the Saviour by the deep and tender concern which he manifested for their spiritual well-being, and by the counsels he addressed to them.

In 1855 he returned to London, where a sphere of usefulness, just suited to his now ripened judgment and sympathizing nature, opened before him. He actively engaged in the Field-lane Ragged-school, and in the Refuge for the Destitute. Being deeply impressed with the importance of domiciliary visitation, he became most laborious in the service of the Strangers' Friend Society. In his painstaking researches of charity, through dingy alleys and byplaces of the metropolis, he found numbers who, but for such efforts as his, would have perished under the pressure of sufferings unalleviated by one kind word, uncheered by one friendly attention, though living upon the very verge of the most densely crowded highways of commerce and of pleasure. Friends who knew his self-denying labours enabled him, by their munificence, to cheer many of these abodes of wretchedness by timely and efficient aid. "When the ear heard him, then it blessed him; and when the eye saw him, it gave witness to him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon him ; and he caused the widow's heart to sing for joy."

Mr. Hofland was often the subject of fear; a fear which often robbed him of joy, but never caused him to relax either his hold on Christ or his pursuit of duty. Latterly he partook more fully of the comfort of the Holy Ghost, and found in the "precious promises" a fount of light, as well as an armory of strength. A short time before his decease, he expressed intense desire that his life, if prolonged, might glorify God, and adorn religion by a fuller realization and exhibition of Christian joyfulness.

The illness which removed him from toil to rest was low typhoid fever, which, during the winter and spring, proved fatal to so many. The rapid progress of the disease deprived him soon of consciousness; but in its early stages, and in lucid intervals, his faith was strong, and his hope bright. After about nine days' illness, the word of relief and release came; and he peacefully passed from the militant to the triumphant church, March 5th, 1862, in the sixtythird year of his age. S. C.