characteristic simplicity and lowliness of mind gave a striking transparency to the whole of her movements. Humility and distrust of self were indeed marked features of her inner life. To a great extent, what may be regarded as the fervent aspiration of every devout mind, was, especially in the later years of our deceased friend, pleasingly realized,—

"Renew Thine image, Lord, in me;

Lowly and gentle may I be;

No charms but these to Thee are dear:

No anger may'st Thou ever find,

No pride, in my unruffled mind,

But faith, and heaven-born peace, be there!"

The weekly class-meeting was to Mrs. Hoyle a season of spiritual instruction and profit. Her testimony there, though not uniformly of a joyous character, always indicated a calm and childlike confidence in Christ. Often was she wont to speak depreciatingly of her own attainments and progress; yet, from the experiences of others, especially when viewed as illustrative of the "diversities of operations" on the part of God the Spirit, she not unfrequently derived instruction and encouragement, and anon reproof; realizing thus the true benefit of Christian communion.

In the relations of wife and mother, Mrs. Hoyle was exemplary: she had truly learned to "show piety at home." "The heart of her husband safely trusted in her." Having herself enjoyed the high benefit of a godly parentage, she was anxiously solicitous to promote the spiritual interests of her lovely family; seeking that by her own example she might place before them a winning proof of the "power of godliness." Frequently was she heard to say, "I desire nothing for my children so much as their conversion to God. I know all will be well with them if they are His children." In the training of her offspring, tenderness and fidelity were unvaryingly combined, securing thus their fear and love; whilst in the social circle, her cheerful spirit, her intelligent and kindly converse threw a charm on all around.

But though conscientiously discharging the claims of motherhood, as well as the requirements of a numerous household; receiving, too, the unceasing attentions of a pious and devoted husband, together with the unsophisticated and confiding affections of her children; living also in the esteem of all with whom she mingled, so that hers was eminently a "happy home," she was soon painfully reminded of the short, uncertain tenure by which life, and every enjoyment of life, is held. A serious affection of the eye, threatening eventually the loss of vision, rendered a painful operation necessary. This she passed through with a heroism so calm and firm as to excite the surprise of the

operator. Yet, owing to some structural peculiarity of the organ, little permanent relief was gained. The second messenger, commissioned by Him who "chastens whom He loves" to give the signal of departure hence, was an insidious affection of the lungs, which, steady to its mission, ultimately baffled the most skilful medical attention, and step by step conducted her prepared spirit where the inhabitant shall not say, I am sick."

During her long and painful illness, change of air was frequently resorted to, but with no lasting beneficial result. Whilst at Bournemouth, she was occasionally the subject of severe mental conflict, yet not only was she graciously sustained, but was favoured with more than ordinary manifestations of her Saviour's presence. One Sabbath morning, on Mr. Hoyle's return from public worship, she remarked, while a peculiarly pleasant smile beamed in her countenance, "While you have been at chapel I have had such, -I do not say happy,-but such a peaceful sense of Christ's presence with me that I could find no words by which to express my feelings; but,

'O would He more of heaven bestow,

And let the vessel break,

And let my ransom'd spirit go

To grasp the God I seek!'"

Her growing weakness necessitated her return to Priory-Gate, to which place, after a lengthened sojourn at Seedley, Pendleton, the family had removed in 1866; yet this she evidently regarded but as "a house of call" on her journey to the "country out of sight." The Rev. J. V. B. Shrewsbury, who was most assiduous in his pastoral attentions, states, when referring to her then occasional attendance at the class, "Her experience, though clear, was yet subdued, and reminded me of the sentiment of Archbishop Leighton, that as the highest flames are the most tremulous, so are the holiest souls fullest of awe and reverence.' In my frequent visits, I never left her presence without a spirit-stirring consciousness that the Saviour's words were true, 'Ye visited Me.' Often was our friend bathed in tears when dwelling upon her unworthiness and her intense desire to realize more of the Saviour's love. More than in any case that I have been privileged to visit, was there illustrated by the patient sufferer the experience indicated in that verse of Charles Wesley,—

The guiltless shame, the sweet distress;

The' unutterable tenderness;

The genuine, meek humility;

The wonder, "Why such love to me!"'

Sometimes, when the weather was fine, and Mrs. Hoyle was

able to be drawn about in an invalid's chair, I have walked by her side, and found that whilst there was an appreciative admiration of the beautiful in nature, whether the trees were overspread with blossom, or laden with fruit, her wakeful heart passed beyond the things which are seen,' and rejoiced in the visible but as an exhibition of the power and love of Him that is invisible.

6

"It was to me affecting, as a trophy of grace, to find that one whose life here was invested with all the comforts and refinements that wealth could obtain, was able to say, 'what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ.'

"There was only one thing which prevented our lamented friend from attaining an undisturbed peace and a constancy of joy. I refer to her scrupulousness of conscience. It was painful to find sometimes a torturing introspection, which led her to be so absorbed with self-scrutiny as to be in danger of withdrawing her gaze from Him who was lifted up from the earth,' that we might be drawn to Him. This habit, resulting partly from disease, yet more from an exquisitely sensitive nature, was the occasion of much perturbation and conflict, and to a casual observer might appear as placing in question her religious safety. But those who understood how true and deep was her spiritual life, and how full of good works and alms deeds,' perceived that this spiritual vivisection, if I may so speak, arose from an intense desire to ascertain whether she were beyond doubt a genuine Christian."

Yet, as the period approached when "the silver cord " should be loosed, these conflicts ceased; and in all the confidence of hope, she waited for the Master's call. A few days previous to her departure, a deeply-affecting scene took place. Her children, over whom she had been wont to yearn with all the intensity of a mother's love, were summoned round her dying bed; when, suitably addressing them, she solemnly, and as her last intercessory effort, commended them to God. That commendatory prayer is, we trust, registered in their behalf on high. Affectionate friends who visited her were also earnestly enjoined to meet her in heaven. There, indeed, in the exercise of a holy anticipation which brings the future nigh, she already seemed to be. A gleam

* "The mention of 'good works,' reminds me of a touching incident in the life of our late friend. About three years before her decease, she said to me, I am very anxious to do something for the poor. I much regret that I cannot visit them personally, owing to the claims of my family, and the state of my health. But after praying about the matter, it has occurred to me that I might benefit the poor by proxy. If you can find a suitable female to be employed as a Bible-woman, my husband and myself will gladly support her.' This generous offer led to the establishment of a successful Bible-Woman's Mission, which is still, though under other auspices, in efficient operation,"

of hope, as to her prolonged sojourning here, was for a few hours given in the more favourable report of her medical attendant; yet suddenly her husband was summoned to witness her peacefully triumphant conflict with the last enemy. Bending over the departing saint, he gently said, "Jesus is precious!" she attempted to reply; when, as though about to adopt the prayer of Stephen, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit!" she simply uttered, "Lord!”— and sweetly passed away. At two o'clock, on the morning of the twenty-first of October, 1870, her liberated spirit joined the bloodwashed throng.

The removal of this excellent lady, in the prime of life, and when the claims of her numerous family rendered her continued sojourn here most to be desired, is one of those mysteries of Providence which in this state of partial vision,-seeing "through a glass, darkly,"-we strive in vain to solve. Our re. and refuge must be in Him whose "ways," though "past finding out," are yet unerring, and whose lovingkindness never fails. "Clouds and darkness are round about Him: righteousness and judgment are the habitation of His throne."

From numerous letters of condolence and sympathy with the bereaved sufferer and his family, we append the following extracts, not only as further illustrative of Mrs. Hoyle's character, but as suggesting much that is consolatory and sustaining to others similarly circumstanced :

"We had ever regarded the dear departed one," writes a minister, who was for some time resident in the same vicinity," with affectionate esteem. Her cheerful smile, her warm-hearted greeting, her kind and hospitable attentions, her intelligent converse, when we were privileged to meet under your roof, will not easily be erased from our memory. We were wont, indeed, to regard you as one of the happiest of men. In the devoted affection and fidelity of a beloved wife, in the loveliness of your offspring, your business prosperity, your church associations and spheres of usefulness, as well as in the endearments of social life, every desire as to enjoyment here seemed to be met. But how chequered since then has been your lot! What blasting of hope! How bitter the cup of which you have been called to drink! Still, you cannot wish your loved one back. She will not return to you, but you may go to her. In the assurance that your times' are in the 'hand' of God, and in the teachings of a wisdom not your own, you will, I trust, be enabled to exclaim, All is well!'"

"You have now," states a venerable Ex-President, "a special interest in the promises of God's Word: it will open to you constant sources of comfort and resignation. Do not forget the Saviour's sympathy. The connection of our friends with Him is

not dissolved when they depart. They are the 'dead in Christ;' a sacred deposit committed to His care: them also that sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him.'

An eminent and esteemed lady, when sympathizing with Mr. Hoyle's elder daughter, writes, "Even sympathy is almost more than we can take into our hearts when they are filled with a great grief in its freshness, and all we ask is silence, and leave to weep. He who has afflicted and grieved you will not reprove your tears. The Lord Jesus Himself wept for one whose brother was dead, although He was going to give her brother back to her. It was a transient sorrow, soon to be over and healed, and yet while it lasted it touched Him so that He wept. You have lost more than a brother, and she sleeps unto the end. She is not coming back to you any more here. You will have her again some day, but not until your earthly troubles, which she would have lightened, are all over. You will have to bear them by yourself, without the help of her hand and voice, her wisdom and her love. Do not believe that He who stood by Lazarus' grave has less pity for you and your little brothers and sisters than He had for Mary......In all your affliction, He is afflicted; ' and the Angel of His Presence' shall save you. 'As one whom His mother comforteth,' so shall He comfort you.' You may claim His tenderness, and count upon it. When a passionate longing for your mother comes upon you, then shut your eyes, and speak to the unseen God, who is close to you, and He will know how to soothe your bitterest sadness, and make you strong when you are weak, and rich when you seem to be poor. Give my kind regards to your father. I send him no message: I remember how it was said by one of old time, None spake a word unto him: for they saw that his grief was very great.'

On the 27th of October, 1870, the earthly remains of this excellent lady were deposited in the Sale Cemetery, Brooklands, there to rest until "the day" break.

MEMOIR OF MRS. FISHWICK,

LATE OF SOUTHPORT:

BY THE REV. WILLIAM B. POPE.

THE following record is that of a retired life, spent chiefly in affliction, and made perfect through suffering. In this it differs from most other obituaries. The memorials of our departed people are generally occupied with both their activity in service and their submission under discipline. Sometimes the one prepon