It is often observed, that as Christians draw near to heaven, their desire increases to enter upon its holy joys. They present a delightful contrast, in this respect, to those unhappy persons whose old age is chilled with the infirmities of decaying nature, and never warmed into the glow of celestial aspirations by the presages of a blessed immortality. The natural desire of life is felt by both, and the uneradicated remains of our ancient and inveterate depravity will sometimes, even in aged Christians, repress the risings of the soul towards her native skies. But the prevailing tendency of the desires will be upwards. "To live is indeed Christ; but to die is gain." Hence their conversation will take its complexion and character, rather from the things which are eternal, than from the transactions or interests of this present world. Such was eminently the case with the subject of this memoir. She seemed to live much, in the secret exercises of her mind, upon the invisible glories of that region of blessedness towards which she was fast approaching. Never was her countenance lighted up with a more cheerful beam of piety, than when, after she had been occupied awhile in silent musings, she would break forth in the joyful exclamation of the patriarch Job, "I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: and though, after my skin, worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God; whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes behold, and not another; though my reins be consumed within me." This was indeed a very favourite passage with her, and was selected by herself for her funeral text. But "the word of Christ dwelt in her richly;" and it was sometimes equally astonishing and delightful to hear with what copiousness, accuracy, and animated expression, at more than 80 years of age, she would pour forth, like a sparkling stream, a long series of beautiful quotations, her feelings at the same time kindling into celestial rapture, and the whole perhaps finished with that ecstatic verse of Dr. Watts. "Haste, my beloved, fetch my soul Up to thy bless'd abode; Fly, for my spirit longs to see My Saviour and my God."