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proached He retired “into a mountain and continued all night in prayer to God.”

Observe what condescension and mutual love He exhibited towards his disciples, when after having partaken with them of the Last Supper, " He rose from the table, took a basin of water, girded himself with a towel,” and • began to wash,” one by one, “their feet."

What an example of submission he manifested whilst suffering under the most severe visitation of trial, in the prayer, “O my Father, if it be possible let this cup pass from me--nevertheless, not as I will but as Thou wilt.”

Observe the spirit of forgiveness He manifested towards His enemies—His murderers. Hear Him. Instead of calling down upon them the heaviest of God's vengeance, He prays, “ Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.


See from his head, his hands, his feet,

Sorrow and love flow mingled down !
Did e'er such love or sorrow meet,

Or thorns compose so rich a crown? Lastly, how condescending it was on His part to leave the glorious abode which he had with the Father, and become the “friend of publicans and sinners,"_"to make Himself of no reputation,"_" take upon Himself the form of a servant,”—“ lay down His life for us,”- -_" become a man of sorrows,"--"

!“ acquainted with grief,”—“have nowhere to lay his head,”—“be despised and rejected of men,"

_" be numbered with transgressors,"—and finally, “humble Himself and become obedient unto death, even the death of the Cross !"

Hoping that every hour of your life will be devoted to a thorough appreciation of His great EXAMPLE,

I am yours, &c, Leeds, 1857.


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ELIZABETH JANE ROGERS was born at Roundhouse, in the parish of St. Gennys, Cornwall, June 13th, 1844. She was a small and delicate child. When very young she learned to read, and took great delight in books. As she grew up, the Bible, the Juvenile Companion, and such other books as tended to promote her spiritual improvement, became her most constant companions. Her father says she has spent hundreds of hours in reading the word of God. In fact, what David said of himself, might truthfully be said of this dear little girl-the Divine statutes were her delight. In her estimation “they were sweeter than honey or the honeycomb ;"-and her profiting was apparent in the great familiarity with the Scriptures, which she frequently evinced.

When she attained a suitable age she was sent to the Wesleyan Association Sunday-school, and always esteemed it a great privilege to be a Sunday-scholar. Her love to school and her diligent attention to her duties were highly commendable. Although her home was more than a mile from the school she was seldom absent. Defiant of cold or wind, or storm, she was habitually in her place at the appointed time.

Her pious and affectionate parents carefully succeeded (by their prayers and instructions) the efforts of the Sunday-school teachers, to impress the mind of their dear child with the importance, and necessity of personal religion ; and they had the unspeakable satisfaction of knowing that the labour bestowed upon her was not in vain. She gave pleasing evidence of the work of grace upon her heart by her love to the Saviour,-her de light in prayer, her attention to the means of grace.—her conscientious regard for the sanctity of the Sabbath, and the consistency of her general deportment. To her the Sabbath was indeed a day of hallowed rest, and the means of grace were as "wells of salvation.” When in the sanctuary, she listened with rivetted attention to everything uttered by the minister, and always appeared as one wait

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ing upon God. She was eminently truthful in all she said - her parents never knew her tell a lie. Like other children she might have been tempted to commit that sin, but she was never known to have become the victim of it.

She was also very desirous of doing good, hence she became one of the most successful juvenile Missionary collectors in that part of the Camelford Circuit. A few weeks before her death, the Missionary cards were distributed amongst the scholars, and although she was unable to leave her bed she desired to have her card as usual. Whenever she heard a person at the house from whom she thought she might obtain anything, she immediately sent her Missionary card for a contribution. Many, very many to whom that card was presented will think of her, when the hand that received their contributions has long lain in the silent grave! In the matter of giving, the conduct of this dear little girl was strikingly exemplary; she did not desire others to give without giving herself. It is true she had but little, but she gave it all. At the Missionary anniversary it was ascertained that the entire of her treasure had been thus piously devoted as a "free-will offering" to Christ. A friend hearing of it sent her sixpence as an encouragement in well-doing; and a few days before her death, when she made a distribution of what she possessed, she especially directed that that sixpence should be put into the Missionary fund. Who can think that such grateful offerings to the cause of the Saviour, will be forgotten by Him who said, “ Even a cup of cold water given to a disciple in the name of a disciple, shall not lose its reward."

Her last affliction was very protracted and severe. Her complaint (inflammation of the liver) was very distressing. Sometimes her sufferings increased to agony, but no murmur escaped her lips. She often groaned but she never murmured. The consolations of religion were her support. During her thirteen weeks of suffering, her parents had frequent opportunities of conversing with her about the state of her mind, and administering to her spiritual comfort. She never manifested anxiety about

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getting better, or any fear of death. She rather longed to be gone. On one occasion, when her mother had been talking to her about dying, she looked at her and said, " I am not afraid if I die but I shall go to heaven." At another time her mother asked her if she wished to die? She said, “I would rather die and go to heaven." Her mother said, “It is hard for mother to part with you." She replied, “ It will not be long before we meet again." At another time, a little schoolfellow being alone with her, Elizabeth Jane asked, “Whether, supposing she were in her circumstances, she would prefer to live or die ?” Her schoolmate said she would rather live ;- the suffering child replied, “ I would not; I would rather die and go to heaven,--and if I die will you meet me in heaven ?"

As she neared her end she referred with considerable emphasis to a piece of poetry in one of the numbers of the Juvenile Magazine, entitled—The Dying Maiden's Farewell,"'* and with an alteration of only one word, she appropriated those lines as expressive of her own feelings in



Father! Father ! cease your weeping,
I can no longer with you stay,
Angels are my welcome singing,
Jesus beckons me away;
Why heave those painful sighs for me ?
And why that weeping, Father dear ?
I soon with Jesus Christ shall be,
O Father, dry that falling tear,

Mother! Mother! I am going
Where no sickuess coines, nor death,
Where love divine is ever flowing,
Where the only rest remaineth ;
There I shall meet my Saviour, dear,
And see the patriarchs of old,
Shall with them round the throne appear,
And with them sing to harps of gold.

taking her farewell of her family. For the benefit of those of our young friends who have not seen those verses, we insert them in this place.

Three hours before her death she expressed a strong desire to see her father. On entering her room he asked her if she thought she should die? She answered, Yes.

- Would you rather die than live ?—she said, yes. Would you rather die this night and go safe to heaven ?- she said, yes. Her father said, If we prove faithful, probably you will be with that innumerable company of angels who will greet us on the eternal shore. She said, O her countenance radiated with delight at the thought of their reunion in the Paradise above. She also expressed a desire that the writer of this sketch should improve her

yes; and

Brother! Brother! weep not for me,
Life is short, and time is fleeting,
Soon in heaven I hope to meet thee,
That will be a happy meeting.
No more shall we together sing,
No more on earth together pray;
My spirit soon to heaven shall wing,
Shall leave this tenement of clay.
Sister ! Sister! death is stealing,
Hov'ring round my aching head;
But the blissful joy of feeling,
Peace upon a dying bed,
Angels are around me flying,
They wait to count me with the blest.
Sister! Sister! I am dying,
Going to my eternal rest.
Jesus! Jesus! now receive me,
And let me kiss thy bleeding feet,
For in death thou cannot leave me,
Soon thou wilt, that we should meet.
I see thine arms extended wide,
I hear thy voice exclaiming, Come;
The bliss for ever to abide,
With Thee in yon angelic home.

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