hands; a poor dressmaker, who, on quitting the workhouse or the gaol, returned at evening to a solitary apartment, where "most of the domestic offices of life were performed by her own hands." That apartment, however, was the abode of deep and tranquil happiness. In its seclusion, "apart," as she said, "from all that could disturb, and in a universe of calm repose, and peace, and love," she not only kept a most copious record of her proceedings in reference to the prisoners, which records are now preserved in the public library at Yarmouth; but also resumed her early practice of writing sacred poetry. For the writing of such poetry, as her published poems show, she had a real talent; and in the exercise of that talent, in her lonely hours, she found great delight. Speaking of her own condition during the later years of her life, she says, "I seemed, in the happy presence of God, as an insect basking in the sunbeams, in the light of peace, hope, and joy; for I have been with my directory, the Bible, gathering from it doctrine, reproof, and righteousness,' for myself and the prisoners... The highest elevation of desire and satisfaction that I could contemplate on this side heaven, has been afforded me during the last five years." As to her worldly circumstances, this simple-hearted Christian had been all along living on a bare pittance. All that she possessed of income was the interest of between two and three hundred pounds, amounting to an annual sum of ten or twelve pounds; her business as a dressmaker having fallen off, or having been relinquished. She believed, however, that God had called her into the vineyard in which she laboured so diligently, and in which He evidently blessed her labours; and she trusted implicitly to his word, "Whatsoever is right, that will I give unto you." "God,' she says, "was my Master, and would not forsake his servant; He was my Father, and would not forget his child. . . I had counted the cost, and my mind was made up. If while imparting truth to others, I became exposed to temporal want, the privation so momentary to an individual would not admit of comparison with following the Lord in thus administering to others. Supported by these views, I advanced, still meeting increased disclosures of the Divine goodness." “Experience," she continues, "as well as the promises of God, justified the absence of concern as to my temporal support. With my thoughts differently engaged, presents have met me, from this kind friend and that, with the charge, This is not for your charities, but for your own exclusive use and comfort.' Liberal supplies of clothing 6 have always been sent, and, as I have remarked, before it occurred to me that I stood in need of any. And it ought to be named, that others may trust in God, for there is no want to them that fear Him."" Having a strong feeling, that she owed much of her influence with the prisoners to the circumstance that her labours were voluntary and unattended by any pecuniary advantage, Sarah Martin steadily refused to receive from the gaol-authorities any compensation for her services. The corporation, however, not understanding her scruples, at length forced upon her a small stipend (£12 per annum); and this sum she received during the last two years of her life. 66 In the winter of 1842, her health, which for the last five years had been failing, finally gave way; and although, till April 17th, 1843, she was enabled daily to visit the prison, the home of her "first interest and pleasure," it was with pain and difficulty. From that day she was entirely confined at home by serious illness." But "in sleepless nights and days of pain," she writes, "I found neither grief nor sorrow; for my Saviour had borne our griefs and carried our sorrows. My cares also were lost in peace; all the deep anxieties inseparable from my duties among the prisoners whilst in health, in sickness fled." It pleased God, that for several months before her death, this excellent woman should endure severe bodily pain, which was only occasionally relieved by the use of opiates. And now in deep suffering, and in the near prospect of death, she experienced and bore witness to the faithfulness of Him, whose she was, and whom she served. From her twentieth year she had seen death, by the finished work of the Saviour, to be disarmed of his sting; but with a natural timidity she had long shrunk from the thought of sickness and pain. Sickness and pain, however, were her portion; and, "when sent," she writes, "by my most merciful God and Father, I found them to be all blessing. In the consciousness of being in His hand, there is no void, no loss. What made me happy when abroad? I had his smile; now I have it more undisturbed, and prove his boundless all-sufficiency." A few more extracts from her most interesting sketch of her own life may best convey some idea of the happy state of mind enjoyed by this Christian believer, on entering the dark valley of the shadow of death. "I found," she says, "inexpressible sweetness in calm seclusion with God. In health, my duties at the gaol, my beloved friends, and other duties, had my time; in sickness, cut off from these, God demanded it. I at once found free access to the Father, Son, and Spirit, and had learned from the Word of God, that ministering angels surround his children below. In spirit I seemed in communion with the redeemed in heaven. . . In the enjoyment of God, I had no choice as to whether he would give me sickness or health, pain or ease, life or death, as nothing but good could come from my Redeemer's hands; whilst his wise and eternal purpose secured my present happiness and eternal benefit." Here was indeed the triumph of Christian faith; and in this most happy frame of mind, and standing as it were on the very threshold of heaven, Sarah Martin laid down her pen. The closing scene of her life is thus briefly described in the little work to which we have more than once alluded : "It pleased God to keep her in the furnace of great bodily affliction, even to the hour of her departnre, which took place in the month of August, 1843. About twenty minutes before her death, she begged for more anodyne, to still the pain: the nurse then told her, that she believed the hour of her departure had arrived; when, clapping her hands together, she said, 'Thank God!' and spoke no more, till she joined the heavenly choir in the full burst and perfection of that song which was her unceasing theme on earth; ، Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever!"" The following remarks of SARAH MARTIN, with reference to her own most useful career, cannot but be read with interest, and may tend, by the Divine blessing, to recommend her bright example to the imitation of others. "Few persons," she observes, "comparatively, are required to act in such a department as it has been my happy lot to fill; yet, important as it is, we blind mortals should be careful not to magnify the importance of our subject, so as to cast a thousand others into the shade. Individual responsiblity before God, and the Divine command 'Love one another,' invest all that lies before every individual, when called to think, and act, and speak, with the importance of eternity; whilst every Christian, in the path marked out by the wisdom of God's providence, whether in public or seclusion, will ever exhibit, by their lovely effects, the same grand and influential principles; for when a believing sinner is found looking unto Jesus, the heart is new; and gratitude delights in His commandments. "In this simple account, in the absence of all human sufficiency on my NEW SERIES.-NO. XXV. 1 part, whether of money or influence, or experience, it is plain, that God alone inclined my heart, instructed me by his word, and carried me forward in hope and peace. Hence arises the boundless encouragement which it presents to others; for the most humble individual in any department of the providence of God, may build on the promises as firm as eternity: 'Whatever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do.' John xiv. 13. And when life below is closing, and the happy departure is at hand, when the grateful heart looks back to the first moment of having seen the cross, it will declare with praise and thankfulness,‘In following my adorable Redeemer, the blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me.' Accounts of multitudes of cases in which "the blessing of him that was ready to perish" came upon her of whom we have thus given a brief memoir, might be extracted from her Prison-Books; but for such most interesting accounts we must be content, as we have said, to refer our readers to the little publication already mentioned. An extract from the Second Parliamentary Report of Captain William John Williams, bearing testimony to the character and labours of SARAH MARTIN, has been already given; and many other extracts might be quoted from later parliamentary reports bearing similar testimony to "this admirable person, of humble condition but exalted mind, who, for a period of twenty-three years, and until broken down in health for a short time before her death, devoted all her energies to the moral and religious instruction and reclamation of the otherwise utterly neglected prisoners in this (Yarmouth) gaol." A private letter written by Captain Williams in answer to one announcing the death of this remarkable woman, may properly find a place in this memoir: "Nov. 11, 1843. "Your letter of the 3d instant which only reached me yesterday, was the first intimation I received of poor Miss Martin's death; I thank you for the opportunity your communication here affords me, of expressing how sincerely I valued her while living; and how deeply, in companionship with all who knew her, I deplore her loss now dead. "Her simple, unostentatious, yet energetic devotion to the interests of the outcasts and the destitute, her practical and useful benevolence, gentle disposition, her temper never irritated by disappointment, nor her charity straitened by ingratitude, present a combination of qualities which imagination sometimes portrays as the ideal of what is pure and beautiful, but which are rarely found embodied with humanity. "I shall certainly feel it my duty to record her loss in my forthcoming report upon Yarmouth Gaol; and I am truly happy to hear from you, that other testimonials to her worth are in prospective. Indeed, it is by such means, that the void left by our valued friend is most likely to be supplied; her simple name, thus honoured, may stimulate others to 'go and do likewise.' "WILLIAM JOHN WILLIAMS, "Inspector of Prisons." The sentiment with which the above letter concludes, is in harmony with the hope implied in one of the last sentences which fell from the pen of her of whom we write. "Should this simple relation," she wrote during her last illness, "serve for the happy encouragement of any engaging in a similar work, my object will be obtained. It is the principle of truth in their hearts, the love of Christ constraining, which can alone support and carry forward the servants of the Lord." This may be regarded as the dying testimony of SARAH MARTIN. She was buried at Caister, a village about three miles from Great Yarmouth, by the side of the grandmother who had brought her up; her tombstone bearing a simple inscription written by herself, and commemorating simply her name and age. Her career of Christian benevolence needs no memorial; it has its record in the grateful hearts of multitudes, who on the morning of the resurrection shall arise up, and call her blessed. It ought to be mentioned that, with the exception of a few small legacies, Sarah Martin left her little property to " the British and Foreign Bible Society." AN ANECDOTE. INSCRIBED A FEW WEEKS BEFORE HER DEATH TO THE LATE A "magic wreath " a maiden drew |