oodness and greatness of God; and
through life she adhered to her simple faith, holding quietly and
resolutely to the ultimate truths of religion, regardless alike of
the censure of bigots or the smiles of sceptics. The theories of
modern science she welcomed as quite in accordance with her
religious opinions. She rejected the notion of occasional
interference by the Creator with His work, and believed that from
the first and invariably He has acted according to a system of
harmonious laws, some of which we are beginning faintly to
recognise, others of which will be discovered in course of time,
while many must remain a mystery to man while he inhabits this
world. It was in her early life that the controversy raged
respecting the incompatibility of the Mosaic account of Creation,
the Deluge, &c., with the revelations of geology. My mother very
soon accepted the modern theories, seeing in them nothing in any way
hostile to true religious belief. It is singular to recall that her
candid avowal of views now so common, caused her to be publicly
censured by name from the pulpit of York Cathedral. She foresaw the
great modifications in opinion which further discoveries will
inevitably produce; but she foresaw them without doubt or fear. Her
constant prayer was for light and truth, and its full accomplishment
she looked for confidently in the life beyond the grave. My mother
never discussed religious subjects in general society; she
considered them far too solemn to be talked of lightly; but with
those near and dear to her, and with very intimate friends, whose
opinion agreed with her own, she spoke freely and willingly. Her
mind was constantly occupied with thoughts on religion; and in her
last years especially she reflected much on that future world which
she expected soon to enter, and lifted her heart still more
frequently to that good Father whom she had loved so fervently all
her life, and in whose merciful care she fearlessly trusted in her
last hour.

My mother's old age was a thoroughly happy one. She often said
that not even in the joyous spring of life had she been more truly
happy. Serene and cheerful, full of life and activity, as far as her
physical strength permitted, she had none of the infirmities of age,
except difficulty in hearing, which prevented her from joining in
general conversation. She had always been near-sighted, but could
read small print with the greatest ease without glasses, even by
lamp-lig