Oh, we miss her more and more, everywhere! in our walks and visits; in the missionary circle, of which she was so ready and active a member; in the Sunday school; in her accustomed seat in church; and we miss the soft tones of her voice in prayer, and the rich outpourings of her melody in praise.

The poor of the parish have, indeed, lost a friend, as their tears and remembrance amply testify when they recount her kindnesses, her gentle words, her deeds of charity and love.  “Flowers grew under the feet of her,” said one wretchedly poor, yet, I thought, quite poetical old woman, whose declining days she had lightened of much of their weariness.  A track of glory seems that which she has left behind; and there was so much that was beautiful and consoling in her last hours that it were selfishness to wish her back.  She is with the Saviour she loved; she folds again to her heart the little one whose loss she had not time to realize on earth; together they have entered on their “long age of bliss in heaven.”

Does not that death-scene speak volumes in attestation of the religion she professed, of the Saviour she adored?  That young fair being, surrounded by all that makes life happy; friends who loved, a husband who idolized, children who clung to her; with a heart full of love and sympathy for all, rejoicing with those who rejoiced, and weeping with those who wept; of rare beauty and rarer accomplishments, a sunbeam on the face of the earth; yet she willingly left all when her Father called her.  Is not her faith worth striving after?

We have reason (blessed be God!) to see already some good effects from the contemplation of her life and death.  The young have received a warning, thoughtlessness a check.  We have realized that neither youth nor beauty is a security against the ravages of the spoiler.

God grant that our dear pastor may experience the truth of the words of the Psalmist:  “Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy.”  He feels that his treasure is laid up in heaven, and we know that his heart is there.  To see his dear one happy had ever been his chief desire, and he would not call her back, for he knows that she is now in the enjoyment of a bliss that the world cannot give.

Though cast down, he is not destroyed; he has come unscathed from this furnace of affliction because one like the Son of God was with him.  With eyes turned heavenward, he waits his appointed time.  The religion of the cross glistens like a gem on his dark-robed fortunes, and points him to fairer worlds, where the love that grew here amidst clouds will be made perfect in a light that knows no shadow, where he and his departed ones will again have one home, one altar, and one resting place.