The service was heard with deep and affectionate attention.

When we came to the grave, the hymn which Elizabeth had selected was sung.

All was devout, simple, animating.

We committed our dear sister's body to the earth, in full hope of a joyful resurrection.
Thus was the veil of separation drawn for a season.

She is departed, and no more seen, but she will be seen on the right hand of her Redeemer at the last day; and will again appear to his glory, a miracle of grace and a monument of mercy.
My reader, rich or poor, shall you and I appear there likewise?
Are we "clothed with humility," and arrayed in the wedding-garment of a Redeemer's righteousness?
Are we turned from idols to serve the living God?
Are we sensible of our own emptiness, and therefore flying to a Saviour's fulness to obtain grace and strength?
Do we indeed live in Christ, and on Him, and by Him, and with Him?
Is He our all in all?
Are we "lost and found," "dead and alive again ?" My _poor_ reader, the Dairyman's daughter was a _poor_ girl, and the child of a _poor_ man.