by the love of God, and influenced by thoughts of heaven, and things divine, she renounced the service of sin, and chose rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy its pleasures for a

season.

She had once been induced to play the truant, and instead of being at school, rambled off with several giddy companions. Child as she was, to her the way of transgressors was hard. Conscience condemned her; her spirit was filled with bitterness, and in the dark night, when none but God saw her, she could not rest in her bed, until, in brokenheartedness, she confessed her sin unto the Lord, and with many tears besought his forgiveness. Oh! that in every child there were a conscience so tender, and a heart as ready to grieve for having grieved an offended God.

Some of her earliest religious impressions were the result of a dream, of the particulars of which I have not been informed." Thus, in the night season, when deep sleep falleth upon man, the Almighty communed with the child; and, like young Samuel, she said, "Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth." Some time afterwards a more decided change passed upon her views and feelings. God made her happy; she was filled with holy joy; and, as is not unusual with new converts, all around her seemed changed into a paradise. The trees waving in the wind-the birds flying through the air, and the cattle grazing in the meadows, were all, as she thought, praising the God of her salvation. Ever afterwards, the recollection of those days was grateful to her mind. Yes! how often have you, her companions in churchfellowship, heard that voice, now silent in death, "Bless the Lord for the Sundayschool;" and referring to her early and happy choice, with what earnestness was she wont to exhort the young to go and do likewise, and follow her as she followed Christ" Youthful friends - Sabbathschool teachers-aged persons-late companions and neighbours of the deceased, ye see her no more! But "though dead she yet speaketh." Hark! the silence of her grave warns ye to "flee from the wrath to come." See! does not her disembodied spirit hover around us, and "Allure to brighter worlds, and lead the way?"

Perhaps it will not be thought unworthy of remark, that she was a scholar in the aforementioned school, when the cause of religious liberty was taken up in the great struggle of 1797. She sympathized with the venerated Kilham, and his persecuted party, and, like Naomi's daughter-in-law, she said, "Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God;" and true to her principles and to her God, amidst changing

scenes and persons she changed not. Having obtained liberty she was satisfied. In her last days licentiousness was offered her as the boon of heaven; but she had chosen the better part which was not to be taken from her, nor would she be entangled with the yoke of bondage.

The storm of 1841 came preceded and followed by signs in the church and in the world, and men speaking great big swelling words of vanity. The heavens darkened-the winds blew-the rain descended -the floods rolled, and the wild raging tempest desolated around--but our departed friend, almost unheard and unseen, adhered firmly to her principles; and, as she lived, so she died, emphatically a New Connexionist. Once amidst the uproar and conflict of those days, the calm and solemn voice of Betty Hilton sounded through this chapel, and angry spirits stood rebuked while she said, "If we were to sing and pray it would be better for us. Oh! that some one would give out a verse." Like an angel of peace she stood amongst the elements of discord; and oh! that all had been of her mind-had given themselves to praise and prayer, then would it indeed have been better for them.

Over many who left this church she mourned in spirit; remembered them daily in her prayers to God; and she could have almost laid down her life to save them. There were one or two for whose return she was particularly solicitous, and with prophetic infallibility she declared God would bring them back. She was not deceived; contrary to all expectations, the desire of her heart was granted, and then she could say, "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." I am not aware in what year she came to reside in Stalybridge, but she had long been a member of this society; witnessed all its vicissitudes; suffered in its adversities, and rejoiced in its prosperity. She loved the gates of Zion, and shared the spirit of him who said, "If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy."

It has been hinted that our dear friend was a peace-maker. Yes! she was a peace-maker. Ask in the church-in the neighbourhoods where she resided, and was best known, and who but will testify that she was fully entitled to this characacter? Yet she would not sacrifice principle, nor connive at wrong. She was a faithful reprover of sin. If neglect of duty, or commission of crime, the manifestation of an unhallowed temper, or vain conversation, came under her notice, affectionate

reproof, and pious advice were sure to follow. Like the prophet Daniel, an excellent spirit was in her; forbearance under provocation, patience under trial, calmness in conflict, and firmness and perseverance under difficulties, were her characteristics. This was "the fruit of the Spirit;" the result of her union with the Lord Jesus. Happily, she was early instructed in the doctrine of Christ, and her views of gospel truth were clear and decided.

Of herself as a sinner, and of Jesus as her only and all-sufficient Saviour, her knowledge was perfect. She "knew his name, and her trust was in him." By faith in his blood, having obtained the forgiveness of her sins, she rejoiced in his mercy, and walked in the light of his countenance. To two great points she directed her supreme regard, a clear assurance of the Divine favour, and the sanctification of her body, soul, and spirit; and she attained both by simply "looking to Jesus." Some of the last words she uttered, were,

"Other refuge have I none,

Hangs my helpless soul on thee;"

and this was the motto of her soul, the language of her daily experience, even from a child. The cross of Christ was her study, her trust, her glory; and when she thought of herself, and of Him-of her sins, and of His mercy, how could she forbear to cry,

"Love and grief my heart dividing, With my tears his feet I'll bathe; Constantly in faith abiding;

Life deriving from his death.

May I still enjoy this feeling; In all need to Jesus go; Prove his wounds each day more healing, And himself more deeply know?" Hence her desire to have the mind of Christ, to grow in the knowledge and love of him, to avoid sin, and ever walk in his sight to all pleasing. Hence also, the love she always manifested to the means of grace, and especially to the ordinance of the Lord's Supper, love-feasts, and classmeetings. To these she was strongly attached; and they were as wells of salvation to her soul.

The period when she first became a Methodist cannot now be ascertained, but I well remember, when travelling in the Ashton Circuit, of which Stalybridge then formed a part, fifteen years ago, I was instrumental in forming here a new class, and our now sainted sister was one of its first members. After an absence of many years, it was again my lot to be stationed in this neighbourhood, and never shall I forget the emotions which I felt, when I

found that, through all the vicissitudes, tribulations, and deaths of so long a time, that class had lived and prospered, and several of the esteemed friends who first joined it, were still its members. Of these, our deceased friend was one; and as I resumed the charge of the class, she was again brought more immediately under my spiritual oversight.

Our first meeting was memorable. She was much altered; time, and repeated attacks of disease, had told seriously upon her constitution. She had never been strong, but was then so enfeebled as to be hardly able to walk to the vestry. Her appearance affected me; and when in relating her experience, she alluded to byegone days, to her afflictions, and the troubles of the church; and when, with a full heart and tearful eyes, she spoke of Him who had so long preserved and comforted her, and permitted us to meet again with our faces Zionwards, and expressed the conviction that her own journey was almost ended, we all sympathized deeply with her. It was evident the happy saint would soon change the fellowship of earth for the happier and more glorious communion of angels and God in heaven. After this we were seldom favoured with her company; increasing debility and suffering confined her nearly altogether to her house; but now and then, when the day happened to be very fine, she would lean on the arm of some kind friend and visit us. As she had been wont to do formerly, she would try to raise the tunes, but alas! she was shorn of her strength; her voice faltered, and sometimes she quite failed in the attempt. These were too true indications that she was not long to visit the house of prayer-that, in fact, the hand of death was upon her. Yet, with all possible composure she could say, "You see I cannot do as I once did. The spirit is as willing as ever-my heart sings -but the flesh is weak. Well, I shall soon be in glory, and I'll sing there."

Several months since she became dangerously ill, and was not expected to recover. I was glad to find her rejoicing in God, and entirely free from the fear of death. Her only anxieties were her children and the church. Her sons were not converted; and she was unwilling to go even to heaven to leave them "without God and without hope in the world." She loved her sons, and longed, and wept, and agonized for their salvation. Oh! that a mother's tears and prayers may be remembered by them, and yet bring them to God!

The church also rested heavily upon her mind. It was then in adversity. It was a dark and cloudy day with the church, and when she supposed she was

K

on the very verge of heaven, her "heart trenibled for the ark of the Lord." Let her only see the reproach of Zion taken away; let peace be in its borders, and prosperity in its palaces, and the spell that binds her spirit to the earth shall be broken, and she will close her eyes in peace. Oh! this was more than a martyr's spirit. The tortures of martyrdom hastened the victim to heaven; but here is a saint, fully ready for eternal glories, and she will forego them for a season, and live in languishing and pain, to see the church lift up its head, and rejoice in its strength. Let this be done; this one desire realized, and she will joyfully shout

"Fill'd with delight, my raptur'd soul
Can here no longer stay;
Tho' Jordan's waves around me roll,
Fearless I'd launch away."

It is remarkable that the desire of her heart was, to some extent, graciously granted. She was just spared to hear that God was bringing back the captivity of his people, and to rejoice in the tokens of returning prosperity. To the surprise of all who knew her, she partially recovered. She was now especially anxious to be again allowed to visit the house of God. The chapel had been painted, and an elegant and fine toned organ introduced We had also made a very laborious, and, thank God, successful effort to reduce the debt on the new school-the burden of which had fallen upon the Chapel Trust-by holding a bazaar, the clear proceeds of which exceeded, to the amount of £100, the expectations of the friends. By these, and other favourable circumstances, the society had been inspirited, and the congregation increased. Despondency had given place to hope, and the impression became general, that it was yet possible for the cause of the Methodist New Connexion to be maintained in Stalybridge, to overcome all its difficulties, and go forth from strength to strength. These were matters of the deepest interest to our afflicted friend. She solicited information from every visitor; she prayed yet the more; she wept for joy, and glorified God. How often, and with what pathos did she exclaim, "Oh! if the Lord would but give me strength to go once more to his house, I should be so overjoyed and thankful. But I must submit; it is not his will, and I am content. Well, well,

'My soul shall pray for Zion still,

While life or breath remains; There my best friends, my kindred dwell,

There God, my Saviour, reigns.'

At her request the class was taken to her house, and our meetings were indeed

seasons of refreshing from the presence of the Lord, alike to her and the members. She had ever been ready to testify the grace of the Lord Jesus; and the relation of her experience was generally calculated to interest and edify the hearers. But now, being in the very house of our dying sister, and listening to the gracious words that fell from her lips, we were

"Privileged beyond the common walk Of virtuous life, quite on the verge of

heaven."

The first occasion of this kind was peculiarly interesting. She had been brought back from the gates of death-had not expected again to see her friends-and when nearly twenty of them sat around her fireside her spirit was moved within her. She looked affectionately first at one, and then at another; the holiest sympathies filled her breast, and like Paul, when he met the brethren at the Appii Forum, and the Three Taverns, she "thanked God and took courage."

Her experience now became rich and happy in a high degree. She was perfectly resigned to all the will of God; "longed to be fully sanctified, and ready for his call." She rested on no merit of her own; but strong in faith cried, "Jesus Christ died for me. I know in whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day."

On the Monday previous to her decease, as I had to go from home, our respected friend, Dinah Whitworth, kindly assisted in conducting the class. The meeting was a most melting and hallowed one. The afflicted believer appeared to be the subject of the most gracious and elevated feelings. She talked of the things of God as one from another world; referred to old companions who were asleep in Jesus; and, as if just reminded of her extreme weakness, and alluding to the absence of the Leader, she said with great emphasis, "But we trust not in man, nor in means, but in the Lord Jehovah!" As she thus spoke, her spirit, her look, her voice and her manner made impressions on the minds of all present which they will never forget.

She was still able to leave the room, but her strength was wasted; a difficulty in breathing occasioned the most severe suffering, and at times she was ready to die; yet she was happy; God was her strength; Jesus was precious; in him she trusted, and through him she triumphed. In the night season she rejoiced, and lifted up her voice in songs of thanksgiving and fervent supplications. Sometimes she cried out,