me know what you think of it? My little boy wakes, and I must bid you adieu."

FROM LADY POWERSCOURT, WHO LOST HER HUSBAND

ABOUT A YEAR AFTER THEIR MARRIAGE.

*

LETTER V.

"Dear Mr.

I should have answered your kind letter before this, had I any thing to tell you that could have given you any gratification. But alas! I have been as desolate within, as without. My earthly husband hid from me, my heavenly one I cannot find; and Satan hard at work tempting me to say, what is this black thing I have done, which makes my Father so very angry with me? But oh, my dear Lord, let him not rule within: quench his fiery darts: show me that I deserve far worse even all the wrath of an offended God. But Jesus has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows. These trials are only blessings, to fill up that which is behind of his afflictions. I am also tempted to think, that I cannot be his, for I feel none of that comfort his children always feel, and I used to find in the hour of trial. Jonah, doest thou well to be angry? I will bear the indignation of the

The letters and papers of this eminent Christian, and strong minded woman, as published by the Rev. Robert Daly, are a precious volume, full of instruction, consolation and reproof.

In

Lord, because I have sinned grievously against him. Oh, dear Mr. -, you do not know what it is to lose one so dear, so very dear; I can only compare it to the tearing asunder all the strings of the heart. Then such a gloomy prospect here the rest of one's life. After watching him day and night with so much anxiety, anticipating the joy of being allowed again to be with him; all at once so unexpectedly to have my hopes dashed from me, was what I did not think for some days I could have borne, because I forgot that as my day so should my strength be. any other loss I have had, I never could pray for the bodily life of my friend, but in this, to which no other loss can be compared, night and day I could not help entreating the Lord to spare me that heavy blow. I really did think he meant to answer me, and hoped against hope, till the last breath left tha. dear body. But I know, O Lord, that thy judgments are right, and that in very faithfulness thou hast afflicted me-I must wait to know and see why it is, till I know as I am known. That it is unspeakable love, I have no doubt, because he who hath sent it is no new friend, but a tried and precious one; and when it is good for me he will allow me to see, that this God is Love. But oh, I tremble when I look at my rebellion, and ingratitude, throughout it all. I have had much to show me myself this last year-to dig up the mud hid under the smooth surface. How will it astonish youastonish angels, when the book of my sins is opened

except they are so blotted out with blood as to make them illegible..

"I do not suppose, there could be a stronger lesson of the vanity of every thing earthly, than to look at me, last year and this. The prospects of happiness I seemed to set out with! And now, where are they? A living monument that man in his best estate is altogether vanity-and see how my heart, without my knowing it was on earth. I could not have thought, one who professes to believe in the joys of heaven, and had tasted the realisation of them by faith, could so mourn, as one without hope--could so willingly call him back again. But I shall say no more, for these complaints only grieve my God, and annoy you. But, indeed, I am at times greatly oppressed, and feel this evening as if there were a parcel of devils within, tearing me different ways, and refusing me any rest. I beseech you pray for me, and write to me,

"Your unalterably affectionate

"And grateful friend,

"T. A. POWERSCOURT.'

LETTER VI.

* * "How I shall long to join you all above. I fear I need patience, and find it hard to reconcile my mind to the possibility of my living three times as long as I have lived yet. When I look back upon a few months, and remember the happiness I used

to feel when I expected my dearest love, and .

to spend the evening at and to have a little reading, I can hardly persuade myself that I am the same person. Two now in possession of what they then, blessed be God, enjoyed by faith, and I left alone. But I forgot-I determined never to murmur again. It needs a great stretch of faith sometimes, when the enemy comes in like a flood, to believe that God is as much at peace with me through Christ, as with those already above; that Abraham now in glory is not safer than I am. Is that presumption do you think? What a precious name, a strong tower, into which, if we run, we shall be safe! Were I left to myself I should run from it. I would not trust myself to His word, but seek to save myself from danger. But almighty love arrests me, pulls me in; and then rewards me for coming. How much in those words, 'are safe,'—to think we are safe from every thing! No evil shall ever touch us, evil at the end, or evil on the way. All paved with love; 'all things shall work together for good.' I have got the promise of all others I want-let thy widows trust in me.' I once wished there was a richer, a sweeter promise to widows; but I believe it requires to be brought into different circumstances, in order to feel the force of different promises. For the Lord knew that none so suited widows, as these few words. In looking round the wide world, so filled with wickedness, and seeing one has to pass through it alone. one would fear, every step one took

so unprotected and forlorn, only for this promise. With this 'when I am weak, then am I strong.' It is not like Him to invite us to trust in him, and then iet any evil come nigh us. If His everlasting arms are underneath, I shall dwell in safety alone.' Let there be rebellions, revolutions, persecutions, earthquakes, any thing, every thing, 'let thy widows trust in me,' should be enough. I know my tabernacle shall be in peace. Sweet to think that the eye of the Lord is upon us, to deliver our souls from death. It seems to me, as a nurse keeps her eye upon her child lest it should destroy itself, or as a keeper keeps his eye upon his poor lunatic, 'the Lord is thy keeper.' Then unbelief jumps up and says, how do you know all this is for you? Then I do not know what to say, but my Master told me so.' His Spirit witnesses with my spirit. He has given me the earnest of the Spirit. To those who believe, he is precious, and I think he is precious to me-'a bundle of myrrh is my well-beloved unto me.' Oh that I could keep close to him; I want to be fixed on the rock. My grief is, that the waves of sin and the world, give me so many shoves off it. Will you not pray for me, for I greatly need it; and will you not write to me, and exhort me with purpose of heart to cleave unto the Lord; and tell me if you think me presumptuous, or going wrong in any way. That old serpent is so cunning. Will you forgive me for speaking so much of myself, but speaking of what He can do for me, magnifies the power of his grace, more than if I was