СНАР. Х.

CLOSING PERIOD OF HER LIFE.

JAN. 1832 TO OCT. 16, 1832.

HER INCREASED SUFFERINGS, AND THE INCREASING POWER OF GRACE UPON HER MIND-SOLEMN VIEWS OF DEATH-LETTER ON EJACULATORY PRAYER REMOVAL TO PARK STREET-HER LAST LETTER TO MR. BROUGHTONPEACEFUL WAITING FOR DEPARTURE-DICTATES A LETTER TO THE REV. R. W. SIBTHORP-SEVERE SUFFERINGS AT LAST-VISIT OF DR. FEARON, WHO COMMENDS HER DEPARTING SPIRIT TO GOD-POST-MORTEM EXAMINATION-EXTRACT FROM HER FUNERAL SERMON, PREACHED BY THE REV. F. H. FELL.

WE are now about to enter on the last year of MRS. HAWKES's earthly pilgrimage. We have to contemplate her, exhausted by continual pain, sinking under disease and old age, and waiting in solemn expectation of dissolution. In such circumstances, lively expressions of feeling could not be expected ;-nor shall we meet with them;-but we shall behold a cluster of graces, adorning the aged, dying Christian, who still brings forth fruit in old age. What those fruits are, we may learn from Rom. v. 3-5: "Tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope: and hope maketh not ashamed." We shall behold her "looking for, and hasting unto, the day of God;" still deeply conscious of the vast eternity which was opening before her; as appears by the following lines, written about

this time :

"1832.-With what solemnity does the serious and contemplative mind take a near view of death,

even with a good and sure hope of a joyful resurrection unto eternal life, through Jesus Christ! How apt is the eye of faith, when feeble as is mine, to view the surrounding rising waters, rather than to keep a fixed look on Him, who can bid me walk upon them! That such divine power may be given, when this frail and broken vessel must launch out into the deep,' shall be my prayer, while lingering on its brink;-which, I trust, shall be cheered with the song of praise, 'He hath swallowed up death in victory!""

While, however, life lasted, she did not consider that "the work of faith" was done, nor the "labour of love" ended. When any question of spiritual importance was proposed to her by Letter, her trembling hand still endeavoured to direct, and assist, the younger Christian; as will appear by the following Letter, written in May 1832, to a friend who had asked, "If the spiritual life could be kept up by ejaculatory prayer only, when from constant engagement, under the direction of others, stated seasons of retirement became almost impossible." In reply to which MRS. HAWKES writes:

"I cannot help having much concern about you, Dearest one, notwithstanding your description of all the enchanting scenery that surrounds you; because earth is but earth still, and more dangerous because enchanting: yet I feel thankful for the hold you have of things that are unseen.' My own experience at this very time makes me know, that while ejaculatory prayer through the day is of great help, and is a mercy, yet it will not make up for the loss of stated times of prayer; because it affords no calm recollections-no self-searching--no needful meditation-and pouring out of the inmost recesses of the heart before a Throne of Grace. On account of my pain and infirmity-together with the constant

administration my wretched body needs-I can now seldom be alone: I am not able to engage, as I used to do, in sweet morning exercises, before any persons are stirring and, like you, I am every day panting for the power to' shut my doors about me.' I do catch, now and then, a morsel of the 'living bread,' in silent groanings; but I want time, and quiet, for a full banquet; and am sadly concerned, lest, from the want of it, I should become like the dry ground, where nothing is growing. If I feel this-where there is nothing to attract, to amuse, or to excitehow much more must you, My Dear, who have so much demand upon you! Therefore, do all you can to get into more abstraction, and recollection, and retirement. The example of self-denial might do others good. You need great wisdom, and simple piety, to shine as a light.

"I am much the same as when you left me, except that I am more and more broken and feeble; and I am more longing to enter into Rest. I am greatly disturbed, also, by the sad necessity to leave, shortly, my nice apartments here, without an idea in what place I shall next lay this poor body. This is an old trial; but I never was so unfitted to meet it.

"You will be aware how much I feel the departure of our Bishop*. He has been to see me twice since his elevation to the prelacy; and is most kind. He preached here twice on Sunday. May he be kept from all evil, and be blessed with all good!"

At Midsummer, MRS. HAWKES, with some difficulty, removed from Cross Street, to Park Street, Islington; and seemed to experience a slight revival from the change. A friend having congratulated her, about this time, on her nearness to glory, she replied, "Not very near :—He is not ready; and I am not ready." At another time she remarked,

* The Bishop of Calcutta.

"I feel stripped of every shred, and reduced to faith alone; but that is enough." To a friend who called upon her in the hope of profiting by her conversation, she said, "I am too weak to converse-I am too weak to pray-I am too weak even to think ;— but I am in the Ark, and all is safe."

Writing to her Nephew, Mr. E. T. Jones, she says:

Again the desired haven is not quite so near; yet it is within my constant view, and I have only to stand ready for the solemn signal to cross the unknown Jordan of death; which faith in Christ, our blessed Deliverer from all its horrors, can alone enable us to look upon without trembling. After many years of expectation, and, I trust, preparation for this solemn event, I sincerely feel, that when death has really fixed its grasp, it opens to the recollected mind, about to enter the eternal world, views and impressions which it is not easy to imagine beforehand. Therefore we have need, My dearest Eden, to look again and again, that our house is indeed firmly built on that solid and blessed Rock, which will save us from being shaken when the storm ariseth. Through Infinite Mercy I am favoured with much peace in my nearer approaches to the grave. But my times are in His hand,' and I trust for dying grace in dying times. My iron constitution (as I may call it) seems now to say, 'It is enough;' and yields pretty fast to the long and large demands of disease; though it still shews signs of resistance. I am indeed a monument of mercy! Abundant in loving-kindness, both as concerns my temporal and spiritual life, do I daily experience that adorable, covenant-keeping God, whose name is Emmanuel, God with us!" Oh that we may live in Him daily and hourly!"

The last effort of MRS. HAWKES's own hand to address a friend was in the following note to Mr. Broughton. The grateful effusions for some recent favours, with which it concludes, are omitted, for the sake of brevity:—

"Park Street, Aug. 3, 1832.

"MY VERY KIND AND DEAR FRIEND,

"I hoped that I could have mustered up sufficient strength to have returned you, without any delay, my best thanks for your kind and profitable Letter; which so truly suits my mind and feelings; and which leads me to hope that such Christian sympathy and regard will excite your constant and earnest prayers for me. I comfort myself in the belief, that many kind friends do remember me at the Throne of Grace, now, when, from a continual state of exhaustion, which seems little short of death, I cannot pray for myself, except in ejaculations and broken utterances. Yet, if these are, as I trust, those groanings of the Blessed Spirit which cannot be uttered,' they shall not be rejected, though accompanied with many sad infirmities; because they are entrusted to that glorious Intercessor who purifies every sigh and tear with the 'much incense' offered on high. Dying work is hard work to nature: but it will not last long; and then, eye hath not seen, nor heart conceived, what shall be the wonder and joy of the disimprisoned spirit, set free from a body of sin and death. Until that favoured release shall be granted, and every storm shall have passed away, I would earnestly desire, and pray, to hide myself in Christ, my only refuge. Surely the night is far spent, and the day is at hand'! May I be enabled to endure what remains of the night, with cheerful resignation to the will of my Father in heaven; who chastens me far less than I deserve; and mingles mercy and loving-kindness with every sorrow, so