as hardly done so, before
the increasing darkness requires a still further expansion of the
visual aperture. Just so in human life, when its brightness has
departed, and the night is at hand; there is often a rapid succession
of painful occurrences, which fall like shadows upon the soul, and it
has continually to adapt itself to its altered circumstances. The eye
of faith can scarce keep pace with the demands made upon it, and the
effect is a sense of occasional depression, which even the Christian
cannot altogether resist. In the last two or three years of her life,
Mrs. Lyth experienced what it was to be "in heaviness through manifold
temptations;" and although she wore the same happy smile, exhibited
the same unwavering, and even triumphant confidence in God, and to
all around her, it was evident she was fast ripening for her glorious
reward; her diary shows that she was, in some of her solitary hours,
subject to momentary depression; which, as she made no allowance for
altered circumstances, and increasing infirmities, she was in danger
of attributing to a wrong cause. It was not until after the death of
her husband that there was any perceptible decline of her physical
energies; the "snow of age" fell lightly, so that she still continued
for some time to discharge her accustomed duties in the church, until
increasing weakness compelled her to relinquish, one by one, her
visiting district for the Benevolent Society; her collecting books for
various Institutions; the Visitation of the school; the Treasurership
of the Poor Clothing Society; the Presidency of the Sewing meeting;
and last, and to her the most painful of all--her Class; for like her
Lord, having loved her own, which were in the world, she loved them to
the end. This unavoidable cessation from her "more abundant" labours,
and the life of passive suffering she was now called to endure,
perhaps more than anything else, was sometimes a source of painful
reflection, and became an occasion of powerful temptation. She could
not, however, be inactive; much of her time passed in reading and
prayer. Her pen and her knitting-needle were in constant requisition,
and a fine day, or a little renewal of strength, often induced her, at
the peril of her own health, to visit an unconverted neighbour, or an
afflicted friend. The sudden removal of her daughter was acutely felt,
and elicited several efforts of her muse, two of which are here given.

"1857.--Gone! gone! gon