might be manifested in the life, the reign, of the maiden Monarch, even as it was in the inimitable beauty of those exquisite flowers. The prayer is recorded on high: oh, God grant that I may yet live to render thanks for its accomplishment!

But no bright blossoms were around me now: the unoccupied hands hung listlessly down that had then so cheerily laboured through the night; and oppressed with thoughts of grief I held a solitary vigil, ever and anon looking forth, with a vague apprehension that the expected removal might be accomplished under the shadow of midnight. I watched until the full pure light of morning had succceded the glare of lamps, and every closed window along the silent street suggested a strange contrast between the darkened rooms within, and the silvery brightness of early day without. Still no movement appeared, save the measured tread of the relieving guard on their march to the old palace gate. The procession was to start at three; half an hour had elapsed since St. James' clock proclaimed the appointed time; and I could no longer resist the impulse that prompted a movement towards the scene of sorrowful expectation. It was not difficult to induce a sympathizing friend to accompany me, and we crossed the court-yard, bent our steps along the Mall, and reached the place which I can well remember, as that where the stately old red brick palace of Queen Charlotte looked over the length of a straight canal towards the Horse Guards. All is changed since those days-the canal, the park, the palace, the court, the times-a mighty change hath passed on all.

It was a lovely morning: freshness characterized

alike the clear blue sky above us, the verdant plantation beside us, and the unfettered breeze so delicious after a night of sorrowful watching. Groupes of respectable persons were collected in front of the palace, serious, earnest, and expectant; and this I could account for. Carriages with closed windows were from time to time arriving and filing off towards Pimlico, there to take up an assigned position, and for this too I could account: a commanding officer of Dragoon guards, fully equipped, was walking his charger to and fro, while in the more distant guard-house soldiers were seen looking out upon the morning's light; and this was not strange to me, for I knew the customs of a garrisoned place: but for one thing I was at a loss to assign a cause. A formidable body of the Metropolitan Police took their station in such wise as to present to those assembled a front that certainly bespoke a purpose of intimidation. As my eye ran along the extended line of this fine body of men, drawn up with military precision, and evidently prepared to act with instantaneous effect, I could not but mentally ask, What prompted this idle precaution? Does any terror that mortal hand may dispel lurk around the breathless body of an innocent maiden, already pent close in her narrow coffin? It was an unseemly spectacle in my eyes: but the spirit of change has passed over all things.

A thrill ran through the quiet assemblage; they gathered closer to the railing that encloses the palace; and all eyes were fixed upon the object that slowly passed across the spacious court. It was a hearse, overtopped with sable plumes, that with almost imperceptible motion drew up before the centre door of the right wing, and there remained stationary.

The infirmity of corrupt nature was strong upon me, and had thought been allowed to pursue its obvious track, dark indeed as the black plumage drooping before us would its angry complexion soon have become; but a sudden and sweet turn was given to the course of those troubled thoughts: for immediately on the hearse becoming an immoveable object, the sun attained a height that enabled him to shoot a most brilliant ray over the tree-tops under which I was standing:-it fell upon a window in a direct line above the sable bier; and such a dazzling glory as rested over it, while every pane of glass lost itself in the flashing blaze of that magnificent beam, I scarcely ever witnessed. The contrast was perfect: sin, sorrow, death, corruption below-salvation, light, life, glory, immortality and everlasting joy above,my inmost heart responded to the signal. The tears then swelling were those of bitter indignation mingled with sullen grief-the tears that presently overflowed were full of softened gladness, for well I knew that though the body was enclosed in impenetrable darkness, the soul was enfranchised in fields of unextinguishable light.

And was it so? Was the Lady Flora Hastings indeed a child of God? Did her path of almost unequalled sorrows eally "lead to the world where sorrow is unknown?" Can you certainly tell us to think of her as a departed sister in Christ Jesus?'

Yes, God be thanked, I CAN and never were the pages of a Christian Lady's Magazine more suitably occupied than with the record that is now to be engraven on these pages-facts, not collected from public documents, or from the hearsay of multiplied reporters of what others have told, but personally

derived from a source the most unquestionably correct. What I am about to state in this brief memorial I know to be strictly, literally true; and if the tale draw tears of tender sympathy in the past sufferings of our departed sister, let it also open every lip in thanksgiving to God and to the Lamb, who, by the operation of the Holy Spirit, so beautifully fitted her for her present inheritance among the saints in light.

The Lady Flora Hastings was, from a very early age, deeply impressed with the importance of vital religion; and so far as opportunity allowed it, she availed herself of the helps afforded in seeking far better things than rank and affluence could bestow. Witness among others the touching testimony given when, with dying hand, she delivered to her fond brother a little Bible, the gift of her mother, requesting him to restore it to that beloved parent with the assurance that, from the age of seven years, when she received it from her, it had been her best treasure; and, she added, her sole support under all her recent afflictions. Naturally retiring, timid, sensitive, modest even to a painful degree, she wrapped up in her own bosom many a thought that it would have gladdened pious friends to hear her utter; and the habit of deep abstraction, while thus meditating, sometimes occasioned among those who knew her not aright, a most injurious surmise-they called it pride! Her meek and quiet spirit was as far removed from worldly pride as any child of Adam's can be.

Brought up in intimate association with the highest in the land, Lady Flora formed a strong attachment to her royal mistress, the mother of her future

Queen, in whose household she held an honourable appointment: and this attachment deepened in proportion as its value became enhanced to its object. Many sorrows pierced that royal lady, and among the more recent was the early death of Lady Mary Stopford; an event that called for redoubled attentions on the part of Lady Flora, who loved with filial affection one who never failed to manifest a maternal tenderness for her. In this we have a clue to the solution of many questions, as to why did Lady Flora, while alive to spiritual impressions, continue a partaker in pleasures wherein those who live are by scripture declared to be dead? To her they brought no enjoyment: far rather would she have devoted herself to the Lord's service in a secluded path of usefulness; but He who giveth no account of his matters saw good to leave his dear child where a furnace was being heated for the trial of her faith and the consummation of her eternal bliss.

Lady Flora's happiest hours were passed in meditation on God's word, in prayer, and in efforts to promote every good work brought under her notice. Some beautiful productions of her pen I have seen, which shew the heavenward tending of her thoughts, and a clearness of apprehension concerning the love of God in Christ to her soul, such as the natural heart never conceived. Still the excess of her retiring modesty shrank from every semblance of display; and while striving to perform her difficult duties in the path wherein she found herself, she walked before God in lowliness of heart, and knew no delight apart from communion with him.

Such was Lady Flora Hastings; and such she had long been, at the time when the storm fell upon her.