was closing, her usual unruffled confidence rose to the riches of
the full assurance of understanding, faith and hope, and she
expressed herself with a boldness of language, a rapture of hope,
and triumph of faith that I never before witnessed. Passages of
Scripture, and verses of hymns, expressive of the dying Christian's
victories, triumphs, and hopes, were repeated by her with a joy and
energetic fervency that deeply affected all present. Her deathbed
conversations and dying counsels were a rich repast and a valuable
lesson of instruction to many of her Christian friends. The night
before she took her departure, she called me to her and consulted
me about disposing of the family and all her own things, with as
much coolness and judgment as if she had been in perfect health,
and was about leaving home on a few days' visit to her friends. A
little before midnight she requested the babe to be brought to
her--kissed it--blessed it, and returned it. She then called for
the little boy (John), and, embracing and kissing him, bequeathed
to him also the legacy of a pious mother's dying prayer and
blessing. Afterwards she embraced me, and said, "My dear Egerton,
preach the Word; be instant in season and out of season, and God
will take care of you, and give you the victory." She then bid an
affectionate farewell individually to all. She continued in the
perfect possession of her reason, triumphing in the Rock of her
salvation, until the messenger arrived and her spirit took its
departure with the words, "Come, Lord Jesus," lingering upon her
lips. Thus lived and died one of the excellent of the earth,--a
woman of good, plain sense, a guileless heart, and a sanctified
spirit and life. Such is the testimony respecting her, of one who
knew her best.

In his deep sorrow and affliction, at that time, Dr. Ryerson received
many sympathizing letters. I give an extract of one from his brother
George, dated London, Eng., 29th March, 1832. He says:--

I deeply sympathize with you in your affliction. I know how to feel
for you, and you as yet know but a very small part of your trials.
Years will not heal the wound. I am, even now, often quite
overwhelmed when I allow myself to dwell upon the past. I need not
suggest to you the commonplace topics of comfort and resignation,
b