How solemn, and instructive, is the scene of death! What a satire upon the pride, pomp, and vanity of the world! and yet, when relieved by the cheering experience of divine truth, what a blessed confirmation of all that the Bible tells us! The utterances of the dying Saint, come home to our hearts with peculiar force. It is as if the spirit of the departing, having reached the boundary of time, and looking forth on the unclouded scene beyond, shouted back to its companions yet enveloped with the mists and gloom of earth: "It is all true, you have only to follow on a little further, and the glorious prospect will burst upon you." Mrs. Lyth seems to have carefully treasured the last words of those, who, within the circle of her acquaintance, died in the Lord; and in the case of particular friends, these notices sometimes extend to several pages: as if she delighted to linger on the borders of another world, and to catch a momentary glimpse of its happiness, and the distant sound of the harpers, harping with their harps. An example occurs in the course of the following extracts. "At the two o'clock class, many were in tears; while others testified of the Lord's goodness. We were, as one of the little hills of Zion, refreshed by the dew from above. In the evening I remained at home, intending, if the way opened, to go and see my cousin Elizabeth, who is very ill. John is recovering; Eliza is still unwell, but I will leave them in the Lord's hands.--A little before six, I left my cousin Elizabeth much better, and happy in God. She told me that in the night she could scarcely refrain from singing:-- 'Here we raise our voices higher, Shout in the refiner's fire, Clap our hands amid the flame, Glory give to Jesus' name.'