them that are weak in intellect and and draw strength from his fulness? Do I consider each day as lost, in which I have done nothing for him? and each acquisition worthless, which does not draw me nearer to him, or enable me to advance those objects for which my Saviour lived and died?' I trust, my dear friend, that in penning these thoughts, I am but giving expression to the best feelings of your heart. O cultivate a close and undivided communion with Christ, and be ambitious of doing something for him ere you leave this world! and in this spirit wait in peace for the glory which shall be revealed in you." OXONIENSIS. ODE TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE REV. "In labours more abundant."-PAUL. BRING me my harp, my harp of woe! By Grief, with dewy hand, and slow, Angel of death! why mov'd thy wing Why swept it them from earth ?-- If sparkling wit, as good as bright, If eloquence, of heavenly might, Could teach thy wing to cower, Then hadst thou made the winds thy car, And smiled on Owen from afar. Ye realms of Genius and of song, Your classic tribute pay, With tribes of ev'ry clime and tongue, Weep, ye fair isles of ev'ry sea, Did witlings e'er assail the cause His bow the mighty champion draws; None could his dauntless soul appal, How brilliant did his fancy gleam, Deep were his reasonings, strong his love, What wonder that a heart of fire, Should its own life-stream drink! Mysterious angel, dark-rob'd Death! The harp unstrung to mortal ears, Then take my harp, my harp of woe, O favour'd one! in realms of light Well-pleased, it thinks of cares bestow'd, Of mortal pains endur'd, Well might thy spirit love the book, That book, which read with faith and love, Rest, Owen, rest! but thou hast left A mournful blank below From kindred, friends, and colleagues 'reft, Yet listen-" I will never leave,” Saith Owen's God,-Can ye believe? A MEMBER OF A BIBLE ASSOCIATION. OBITUARY OF MISS H. Ye are our epistle, written in our hearts, known and read of all men; forasmuch as ye are manifestly declared to be the epistle of Christ ministered by us, written not with ink, but with the spirit of the living God: not in tables of stone, but in the fleshy tables of the heart.-2 Cor. ii. 3. Miss H. was born in the parish of E. in Buckinghamshire. Her parents were persons of respectability, and bred up their children with a regard to religion, according to their ideas of it. The subject of the present memoir was their second daughter. Her natural character was endowed with many excellencies. Her understanding was strong and masculine; her temper generous and disinterested; firm in her attachment, and quick in her perceptions and feelings. The faults often incident to these good qualities were to be found in Miss H. She was self-willed and strong in her prejudices, and tenacious of her own opinions, which at times gave a tinge of roughness to her manner and expression. Her integrity was inflexible. She manifested a strict adherence to truth, and a conduct in the sight of the world irreproachable. 66 She entertained a great respect for religion, as far as she knew it; and strictly observed the forms of devotion both public and private. "I never remember," said she to me on her dying bed, one night or morning when I omitted to repeat my prayers." Yet, amidst all this precision, her religion might properly be described, form without feeling-fear and bondage without satisfaction or delight-a round of unmeaning services-a mere affair of necessity and duty. "I was ever dissatisfied with my state, and all my life subject to bondage and the fear of death." In this state of mind, Miss H. of had occasional opportunities conversing with persons whose sentiments and professions were more accordant with the Bible. But unhappily their weakness offended, or their inconsistencies disgusted her, and retarded her progress. "Their terms were strange to me, and I could never suppose their religion better than mine, when I saw it allowed them to be less conscientious than myself." When it pleased God to send forth the light of his truth into her native village, her mind soon became better informed. She obtained a deep conviction of her own mistake, and better insight into her interior. Yet for some time she was rather exasperated than softened; so much so, as to regret that God had brought her under instruction." She determined at least first to try the world for happiness, before she surrendered her heart to a religion which now appeared full of difficulty and misery." 66 This resistance to the means God was employing to bring her to himself, produced a manner perverse and inflexible, disposed to captiousness. I frequently said to myself, this is an unpromising, if hot hopeless creature. When in happier days, I told her my former thoughts; she very properly remarked, "You could not tell what secret and powerful workings were going on in my heart." It is unnecessary to enter into a detail of those conflicts and changes which preceded her final resolve. They were many, long, and desperate; she fought every inch, and brought to a thorough scrutiny every principle presented and pressed upon her. She became thoroughly dissatisfied with the flimsy materials with which she had been attempting to build a house eternal in the heavens. A conscientious attention to her own heart discovered the mournful fact of man's entire ruin; she became dissatisfied, wretched, disposed to lay hold of God's remedy, and the hope set before a sinner in the Gospel. “Ah, I have felt many a bitter pang, and passed many a sleepless night, before I determined to surrender myself to God in Christ Jesus-to be saved, as a poor bankrupt who had nothing to pay." On the 29th of September, 1814, 'she dedicated herself to God at his holy table; and since that time, I may truly say, she was known and read of all men as the epistle of Christ manifestly declared. There was a meaning and influence in her conduct, which even those who did not embrace her views never failed to acknowledge. A slight sketch of her religious character is all I mean to attempt. The vigour of her mind was spent on the Holy Scriptures. Fond of reading and meditation, she made a good use of the peculiar opportunities of a sick chamber, and a confinement to it more or less for some years, to acquire the knowledge of divine truth; and "her profiting appeared to all." She was pre-eminently a theologian, grasping every part of truth; in doctrine, experience, and practice deeply read. There was a remarkable soundness in all her views; she was armed at all points, guarding against error to right and left. There was a balance of mind rarely to be found. Deeply in earnest, she submitted her understanding to every point of doctrine, and flinched at no command. All things appeared to her beautiful "in their season and proper measure." She chiefly delighted in those parts of Scripture, and in writers, who went "to the bottom of things." What was general or superficial did not suit her natural taste, much less agree with her unfeigned anxiety to be right. "The idea of self-deception in a matter of infinite moment appals me." She never could rest satisfied without ascertaining her footing, and being able to give a reason of the hope that was in her. The truth of my remarks will appear from her own observations in her dying hours.. The breaking up of nature was in her case full of agony. Her head, stomach, and limbs, were often strongly convulsed, and the difficulty of breathing was very greata gasping for breath. I suggested the propriety of an opiate. "O no, let me have my intellect clear and unimpeded in such an hour as this." Her desire in this respect was fully granted; for, with the exception of a few hours, her mind was more than usually strong, and her memory equally retentive. Whenever I adverted to a passage of Scripture, Miss H. took it up and went on with it. "Ah," said she, "I can truly say I have esteemed the words of his mouth more than my necessary food." When I asked how she felt? "Happy, very happy!" But with great emphasis, "It has never been with me, how I felt? but, what I was doing?" I touched on God's everlasting love, and endeavoured to lead her thoughts to that gracious train of events which had ended in her conversion; observing, it was a doctrine full of consolation to the pious. "Yes," said she, " and of deadly poison to the wicked." Miss H. was never backward to useful actions. Yet, in a dispensation of suffering, and such was the latter part of her life, and nearly the whole of her religious course, we must look for the patience of the martyr, rather than the labour of love. Probably, few of God's servants have travelled a rougher road. It was strewed with thorns every In days of ignorance, Miss H. had used a form of prayer-words she neither understood nor felt; but, after her conversion, prayer was her delight as a mean of communion with God. She had trusted for life in her own doings; now she worked from life and to life, renouncing all as a meritorious cause, yet abounding in every good word and work, as an evidence and enjoyment of a gracious state. step. Days of pain and nights of restlessness were her appointment; at times, a degree of suffering scarcely to be endured: yet, in the midst of all, there was not one word, nay, nor so much as a look, of complaint-not even a wish that there should be a pain less. It was her habit to justify God: "He does all things well," she would say; "it is less than I have deserved. What has Christ suffered for me. I want well chipping;" was her favourite phrase, alluding to the hardness of some materials of the statuary, which require the chissel again and again before the figure is drawn forth. At intervals of ease, if we may call that ease which was little more than an exemption from great pain, there was a cheerfulness, I had almost said a playfulness of manner —so very remote was her feelings from peevishness and discontent. Indeed, she seemed not so much to regard her own comfort, as the accommodation of her friends who visited her on this trying occasion. Her sick chamber was a Bethel, a place of holy influence. She addressed all who came to see her with some suitable advice, according to the ideas she had formed of their characters. To the careless " O remember, you have a great work to do. It won't do to rely on a mere general belief of truth; you must bring forth fruit, or you have no evidence that you are a Christian." To those who neglected ordinances, under a mistaken notion of God's power-" We must use the means of grace; it is in them alone we can expect conversion. And O what a mercy we have a throne of grace! what encouragement have we to turn to God!" To one who was weak and timorous, and apt to despond "I see what you are about. I cannot scold you now, but you deserve it. Look at me and triumph. Put away all these dishonourable fears." The harshness of her character was softened down into gentleness and tenderness. Resentment, a besetting sin, seemed quite subdued. It was continually in her mouth, "We must forgive one another as Christ Jesus has forgiven us." Truly edifying was her closing scene. Some days previous to her death, which we all thought nearer than it really was, she desired me to feel her pulse. "I would not be impatient, but I hope my death is at hand. I think I am dipping into Jordan." She survived, contrary to our expectation, several days; calm thankful-full of faith and hope-not a cloud-not a doubt-not a fear. The goodness of God was in this respect, and in her case most remarkable; for as she had observed to me more than once, My mind has been much exercised at all times with fear of death and misgivings of my interest in Christ, sometimes amounting to despondency." About ten minutes before her decease, she drew up her hands across her breast in the attitude of prayer; one convulsive, tremulous motion on her upper lip expressed the pang of death; she ceased to breathe, and expired without a groan. 66 One gentle sigh her fetters breaks, We scarce can say she's gone, Its station near the throne. Thus died one, to me, a sincere friend-to her family, an affectionate relation to my parish, an edifying example and a real loss. In this brief sketch of a valuable |