assurance of her joyful entry into the everlasting kingdom of her Lord and Saviour. That daughter had taken a somewhat higher course of mental pursuit, than any of her family. She was accustomed to express her devout feeling in verse, and a copy book has been put into my hands, containing a variety of little poems, which at least shew her sweetness of mind, and her knowledge of religion. I cannot forbear quoting one of them, not particularly for its excellence, but because it serves to prove, in reply to the charge often made of ingratitude against the poor, how frequently a deep feeling of thankfulness may exist, which nevertheless gains no public expression. These lines are on the death of a venerable Clergyman, whom I myself knew to have been frequently foremost in acts of benevolence, and often, if necessity required it, willing to stand almost alone in deeds of enlarged charity. ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. J. G. SPURGEON, RECTOR OF OULTON. Hark! tis the loud knell which tolling so dreary, Announces to all, a frail mortal’s decease; That relieved from pain, at rest is the weary, A Christian has entered the mansions of peace. But it tells us a _friend of the poor_ is departed, A benevolent friend has resign’d his last breath, And the eye where the soft tear of pity has started, Is now closed, and sleeps in the silence of death. Yet while in deep sorrow, his loss we’re deploring, His spirit is mounting to Heaven above; To those regions of light he is rapidly soaring, To reap the reward of his labours of love. Peace to thine ashes! thy warfare is ended, Thou hast fought the good fight, and hast entered thy rest; Still a tear dims their eye, thou so kindly befriended, And thy memory is sweet to the poor and distress’d. On her death bed, Susan Cullingham spoke of ‘passing the dark valley, but,’ she added, ‘It is _light_,’ and she bade her friends go to the grave, not to _weep_, but to look for her in heaven. I think that I have rarely known in their rank of life, a finer specimen, of what I might wish the whole population of my parish to be, than the Father and Mother of Elizabeth Cullingham. They lived most happily together, and after death were not long separated. Their death I shall have occasion presently to record.