speak in particular; nor would our time permit me to draw the picture of a life made up of constant uuremitted kindnesses to all around, kindnesses too modestly performed to attract attention, too constant to be noticed as extraordinary. "Would you hear of her benevolence to, and her sympathy for, the suffering? Ask the poor and sick of this village, whom she served in her day. Let them tell their tales. "The accuracy, I could say the energy, with which she managed the domestic concerns of the institution and of her family, received its daily testimony from the neat and orderly appearance of both. Seldom, if ever, was a kind maternal regard to the real wants and claims of the members of so great a household better combined with that strict economy which Christian principles inspire. Hence it is that she had the affection and the regard of all under her roof. The pupils stepped lightly over head, and often walked in their stockings, when they knew or but suspected that she was incommoded by a heedless gait in heavy shoes. To refuse or evade any wish of hers would have required the most extraordinary rudeness in them, and I doubt whether she ever had a disappointment of this kind to suffer. All her neighbors, as soon as they realized at all her character, treated her with distinguished respect and kindness. The missionary circle of which she was a member, though always blest with harmony of heart and work, will gladly acknowledge her to have been an ornament to them. To none of them has she ever given occasion for an unkind thought or emotion. As far as she was known, so far she was beloved and esteemed. When she was carried down in her rocking-chair hung on poles to the Bosphorus, to go on board of the steamer which conveyed her to Rhodes, I feel most confident in saying that she left no enemy behind her On the contrary, she carried away with her the respect and the affection of her fellow-laborers, of her countrymen, of all her acquaintances among foreigners, and of all the natives of every nation with whom she had come into contact. "Of the wife and the mother, I will let the husband and the older children speak. I trust they will speak of her while they live, till they meet with her in glory. But one thing I will venture to say. Much as they loved and esteemed her,—and, as it is apt to go with human affections, they may, in this respect, have gone even too far, at times, yet they never knew her value till she was gone. Never did her bereaved husband realize the amount and the extent of her cares and her labors of love, till he returned to his desolated house, while her industrious hands were folded in her grave in Rhodes, resting from their well-done work. Never did he fully realize the value of her influence upon the children, till her tongue lay silent in the dust. Never did he adequately feel the value of her society after the heat and burden of his daily work, till the solitary evening hours, and the silent walls of his room, spoke to him of a loss which he learned to appreciate more deeply every day. Never did the children feel the sweetness of her affection, and the charm of her smiles, till that heart had ceased to beat, and those features, transformed to cold marble, had been fixed in their last deep sleep, preparatory to the great resurrection morning. "Her missionary life was not without some severe trials of feeling, but they were borne silently; she wept sometimes, but she never murmured, nor complained even, so far as I know. "Thus did the current of her life flow on, in even tenor, quietly, till her last trials approached, followed by the triumph of faith in Christ. "The Spirit of grace, intending to lead her deeper into Christ than ever before, disclosed before her the glory of the divine character, and the utter unworthiness of our best deeds before him. And the path in which He led her, from the gloomy depths of contrition and self-loathing, to the clear and placid light shining around the cloudless height of Pisgah—that path is indeed radiant with divine wisdom and mercy. From that eminence she had a full view of the merits of Christ, the perfection and the all-sufficiency of the atonement made by the Lamb of God, and of that eternal weight of glory beyond the grave which free grace has procured for every penitent and believing soul. "The path of our beloved sister, from the time when the cloud was past, shone more and more unto the perfect day. Thus the experience of her last days exhibits all that the Christian can desire to find in his own spiritual state. I the chief of sinners - Christ a perfect Saviour; I nothing-He all; I, such as I am, His forever,- He, such as He is, forever mine. In such a frame of mind she departed from this world of sin and sorrow, and her end was peace-perfect peace."" SUMMARY OF CHARACTER. "To smell this flower, come near it; such can grow THERE is a delightful variety in the world of nature, and each species of every genus, perfect in its kind, commands our admiration. The delicate and fragrant heliotrope is no less lovely than the beautiful and brilliant rose. This variety we find not less in the moral than the material world, and our judgment of many things depends upon the question of their fitness for their own place. In estimating character, we must take this same general law into the account. As there are various spheres of action, so God fits different individuals for these various spheres. There are noble women like Ann Judson and Mary Lyon,- women endowed by Heaven with rare gifts for the fulfilling of some peculiar mission. For her heroic daring and martyr-spirit, the name of the former is embalmed in the church as one of the most efficient pioneers in the Burmese mission. By her unparalleled energy, directed to a single object and hallowed by supreme love to God, Mary Lyon has raised for herself a monument that shall last while the mind of man endureth. There are others fitted by nature, as by culture, for a more retired though not less beneficent sphere, and who none the less adorn that sphere. And yet the delineation of such a character, and that where there is little incident, is a work of no ordinary difficulty and delicacy. Mrs. Hamlin's character was from childhood remarkably well balanced, both morally and intellectually. Possessed of great refinement and sensibility, she was yet firm in purpose and persevering in execution. With unusual powers of discrimination, she had great sweetness of temper and benevolence of disposition. Her natural traits were such as we rarely see combined, and her retiring modesty gave a fresh charm to these golden virtues. Lovely and attractive in countenance and manner, ardent, imaginative and highly cultivated, she could not fail to awaken a deep interest in those who knew her. That same love of the beautiful which marked her earliest childhood continued until her dying hour. It was a spontaneous growth of her being, an instinctive appreciation of every type of beauty and sublimity in every department of nature and of art. But it was refined and spiritualized by her religious character. holding communion with the visible creation, her heart ascended in silent worship to the unseen and adorable Creator. "Her mind was a thanksgiving to the Power That made her; it was blessedness and love." In From the moment of her consecration to the mission_ary work, a sweeter, a purer light encircles her. We see a woman of a high order of intellect, of peculiar delicacy, and of acute sensibility, calmly bidding a last adieu to her home and friends. We see her, with singleness of spirit and in simplicity of faith, entering |