Had our deceased friend the weakness--the comparatively pardonable weakness of vanity? Had the characteristic infirmity of old age come upon her,--a fondness for recounting earlier or more recent labors and successes? From what has been said, you who are strangers to her would hardly expect it, for you have noticed that it is the lighter ears of grain that hold their heads highest, and wave about most freely. Mrs. Marsh was a branch so laden with fruit as to hang low; she was clothed with humility. She sat at the Master's feet. She did not talk about meekness or modesty,--she illustrated them. Moses probably did not know how his face shone as he came down from the mount; our friend seemed not to know how radiant hers was with benevolence; nor how busy were her own feet in errands of kindness. All agree in testifying that this grace of humility shed a sweet, calm lustre over all her other virtues. The only one's faithfulness that she hesitated to speak of was her own; her uniform estimate of herself was, "I am an unprofitable servant." Who ever suspected her of vainglory? Who will say that she was not accustomed to give all glory and praise to God? This quality was too genuine to admit of a sombre tinge. There seemed to be no trace of false spirituality. She exhibited a fine combination of cheerfulness and seriousness. In fact, she had no time for despondency about herself or others. Heart, lips, and hands were too full of something else to admit of moodiness. * * * * * Mrs. Marsh had often expressed a desire that, if it pleased God, she might not outlive active usefulness; that she might die in the harness, might die here amongst us. When two years ago a city missionary in Boston[Footnote: Deacon Wilder.] died suddenly, she said she would like to go in the same way. God has substantially gratified her wish. Now, in all the relations at which we have glanced, and positions as daughter, as head of a family, as head of a charitable institution, as private church-member, as a helpmeet for a Christian minister, and as city missionary, she exhibited the highest order of conscientiousness, and of consecration to God. Have you ever known one who walked more nearly in the steps of our Lord and Saviour, one who did less to please self? Do you recall an acquaintance who appeared to act less from impulse, or more uniformly from an abiding sense of duty, in all quietness and steadfastness doing with her might what the hands found to do? A friend, who has known her intimately for forty years, states,--"I never knew Mrs. Marsh lukewarm or with a cold heart. Her life has been a chain of well doing all along, without one breakage." * * * * *