(both names meaning Gazelle,) had distinguished herself and honored her religious profession, by the generous and charitable deeds which constantly employed her hands. This lady, so respected by all, and so loved by the poor, who gave witness to her goodness,—such an honor to the religious community which she had joined,—seemed to have so nobly done her part in life, that the order of Providence had apparently called her to rest from these labors, in that sleep from which no piety nor usefulness can save or recall their possessor. After a few days of illness, she died, and was, after the usual funeral ablutions, laid in an upper chamber, to await the burial. In the midst of the universal grief for this sad loss, the members of the church at Joppa, knowing that Peter was in Lydda, within a few hours' journey, sent two messengers to him, to beg his presence among them, as some consolation in their distress. Peter, on hearing of this occasion for his presence, with great readiness accompanied the messengers back, and on arriving at Joppa, went straight to the house of mourning. He was immediately led into the chamber, where he found a most affecting testimony to the nature of the loss which the afflicted community had suffered. Around the dead, stood the widows who, in their friendlessness, had been relieved by the sympathy of Dorcas, now pouring their tears and uttering their lamentations over her, and showing that even the garments which they wore were the work of her industrious hand,—that hand which, once so untiring in these labors of love, was now cold and motionless in death. From that resistless doom, what mortal voice could ever recall even one so amiable and useful? But, while they were sorrowing thus, Peter ordered them all to leave him alone with the dead; and when all witnesses were removed, he kneeled and prayed. The words of that prayer are not recorded; and it is only by its successful efficiency that we know it to have been that fervent effectual prayer of a righteous man, which availeth much. It was such a prayer as, of old, the son of Shaphat offered over the dead child of the Shunamite, when alone with him; and its effect was not less mighty. Rising at length, and turning towards the body, he said "Tabitha, arise!" Awaking from the unbreathing sleep of death, as from a light slumber of an hour, she opened her eyes, and when she saw the majestic man of God alone, and herself robed for the tomb, she sat up and gazed in amazement. Peter, then, giving her his hand, lifted her from the funeral couch, and calling in the brethren and the wid-
