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words, "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?" She answered, with uncommon rapture, Nothing, nothing, nothing! Jesus," she added, "is my all." "Oh sweet death!" was her constant expression. In her parting blessing to two or three select friends, she said, "God bless you all!" and to her faithful servants, whom she loved as a mother, she added, "God bless you, my dear children!" And then, the last words she was heard to utter distinctly, were, Pray, pray, pray! Her lips were still perceived to move, as though in prayer, and faintly uttering the words" Shepherd, and Guide!" Death was now upon her countenance, and in its loveliest form. It was impossible to refrain from looking at her it was a sight calculated to confirm the hope of every Christian. All who were present kneeled round her bed, while, in broken accents, Mr. Cadogan committed her spirit into the hands of the Lord God of truth. Surrounded by her weeping friends and servants, she fell asleep without a groan, November 1785, about the sixtieth year of her age.

MRS. GRACE BENNET.

THIS lady was the daughter of Robert and Grace Norman, of Newcastle-upon-Tyne: she was born there on the 23d day of January, 1715.

From the brief narrative which she left behind her, it appears, that religious impressions were made upon her mind in very early life, and that she had experienced convictions of sin even from four years of age; particularly one that never left her, till it pleased God to take away the sense of guilt from her conscience, which was not for many years after. These had a powerful influence on her conduct, in leading her to read the word of God with great diligence, though she did not properly understand it, and to feel a pleasure in attending on public worship both parts of the Lord's-day. Nor was she, even then, a stranger to some sense of Divine love, which at times so filled her heart with unspeakable pleasure in the house of God, that she said within herself, "Oh that I might live here for ever!" One instance of this in particular occurred when she was about seven years old, of which she frequently made mention in advanced life, as an early token of that special grace by which she was afterwards called into the fellowship of Christ.

These pleasing impressions continued till she was sent to a dancing-school, which proved a great snare to her, and in a considerable measure destroyed her taste for religion. Having a fine flow of spirits, and being esteemed a good dancer, she became an object of admiration, and her company was much solicited in circles of gayety and amusement. "Dancing," she observes," was my darling sin, and I had thereby nearly lost my life; but God was merciful, and spared the sinner." Her

sense of the danger and evil of this practice was such, that she could never once be prevailed on, after she became truly religious, to join even in the most private circle of such amusement; nor did she approve of Christian parents sending their children to dancing-schools, though no one had a higher sense of the propriety of instructing them in all the rules of good behaviour.

About the age of twenty-one, she changed her name to that of Grace Murray, by which she was afterwards so well known among the people called Methodists, being married to Mr. Alexander Murray, nearly related to a considerable family of that name in Scotland; whose father, being concerned in the rebellion of 1715, forfeited his estate, and with several brothers was banished the kingdom. Mr. M. being thus disinherited, and not having been brought up to any secular business, turned his attention to a seafaring life, in which he continued to the time of his death.

For some time after her marriage with Mr. M., she continued in all the vanities of the world; tenderly beloved by her husband, and distinguished in circles of mirth by the sprightliness of her air, and the enchanting modulations of her voice, which was peculiarly sweet, and of great compass.

The providence of God, however, in a peculiar manner interposed, to abate her love of worldly pleasures, and to awaken her to the pursuit of more noble and satisfying delights; of which she gives the following account:" Mr. M. being taken ill at Portsmouth, sent for me. I went, and took my child with me, which was about fourteen months old, and staid there about six weeks. We boarded at the house of a widow lady, who had two daughters. Twice every day she passed by my room, with her book under her arm, and her daughters with her, to retire into her chamber to prayers. This struck me in such a manner, that I wished to

do as she did. Oh the goodness of God! It astonishes me even now to think of it, how I must be brought hither to be taught to pray! Yes, I believe I began to pray in the Spirit in that house. The Lord had fastened something on my mind there, which I could never shake off."

Under this impression, she returned with Mr. Murray to London; and thus was her mind gradually disposed to be favourably wrought upon by succeeding events, which, through the influence of the Divine Spirit, issued in her effectual conversion. These things, with many other circumstances of her first religious connexions, we shall relate in her own words, which contain a brief sketch of the rise and early progress of the Methodist societies in various parts of the kingdom.

"When we returned to London, all places rang with the fame of Mr. Whitfield, who had introduced the practice of field-preaching. I said, Poor gentleman! he is out of his mind!' So foolish was

and ignorant. But he continued to blow the Gospel trumpet all round London, &c. I found a strong desire to hear him; but my husband would not give his consent. It was not long, however, before Mr. M. was called away to his occupation; and just after his departure, my child sickened, and God was pleased to take her unto himself. When the child was dying, I was constrained to kneel down; and having a book with a prayer in it for a departing soul, I read this, and gave up my child into the hands of God. This amazed my sister, who had never seen it thus with me before. After the child was interred, I was brought into such lowness of spirits that I could rest in no place. I lost my relish for all worldly pleasures; and, though I was taken from place to place to divert me, it was to no purpose. I wanted but I knew not what. Once, at my sister's, looking upward, I thought the firmament was all in a smoke; upon which, I went in greatly terrified, and said to my

sister, 'I do not know what is the matter with me, but I think it is my soul.' She replied, "Your soul, child; you are good enough for yourself and me too. Poor creature, she was as ignorant as myself! But I could rest in no place the Lord had made the wound, and no earthly balm could cure it. O that I could sufficiently praise him for his great mercy to me a poor sinner!"

Mr. Whitfield was gone down the river Thames for Georgia; but an embargo was laid on all ships outward-bound, for some time, we being then at war with Spain; therefore he returned from Gravesend to London. A young person in our neighbourhood having heard of my distress, sent me word she was going to Blackheath to hear Mr. Whitfield, and would be glad of my company. Accordingly I went with her, and before we reached the place, we heard the people singing hymns. The very sound set all my passions afloat, though I did not know one word they uttered; which plainly shews how the affections may be greatly moved, while the understanding is quite dark. At the time appointed, Mr. Whitfield came, and young Mr. Delamotte in a chaise with him. When he stood up, I was struck with his appearance; I thought there was something in his face I never saw in any human face before. His text was, our Lord's address to Nicodemus in John iii. 3. Verily, verily, I say unto thee, except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.' He enlarged on the new birth; but I understood him not, and wondered what it was to be born again. So long as the embargo continued, I went to hear him; and when he was gone, I was worse than ever, though I do not think my understanding was at all enlightened. My distress grew very heavy, nor had I one that I could open my mind unto: I was bound in misery and iron.

"One day, however, as I was reading in the fifth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, I was filled