eavenly Father, give me strength in this mine hour of
tribulation and suffering? Not my will, but Thine be done!"

Surely "Angels ever bright and fair" bore away these half-whispered
words to Heaven like sweet incense.

For awhile Agnes seemed to be wandering, or perhaps she was dreaming;
for her eyes were closed as though in slumber, and a smile like she
used to smile, flitted over her pale face, as she stretched out her
arms to embrace some one, and exclaimed:

"Come, mother dear, a kiss! I am going to bed. Kiss me good-night
mother darling."

Sweet girl, noble young soul! You were indeed going to bed, but it was
in the dust of the valley.

Sister Mary bent down and kissed her fondly. Her hot tears falling on
the cold face roused Agnes, and she opened her eyes. Bidding all
about her, O such a farewell! such a farewell till eternity, she
crossed her hand peacefully over her breast and murmured:

"Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee."

The words had not left her lips ere she was in God's presence, a
pure, beautiful seraph of light.

ANGEL AGNES, FAREWELL!

Sister Mary, during the very short intercourse she had had with Agnes
Arnold, had fallen in love with the sweet, good girl, and when she
died she wept over her as an elder sister might have done.

She was particular to see that the last wishes of Agnes, in regard to
her being buried in a separate grave beside young Harkness, were
carried out to the letter. No mourner save herself was at the funeral,
for there were more sick people than well ones to attend to them. And
even Sister Mary could not linger by the grave of her dear young
friend as she would have liked to do. She was obliged, after seeing
the coffin lowered into the sepulchre, to hasten back to her patients.

AGNES' LAST LETTER TO HER MOTHER.

Never was there a more touching, more loving, more solemn epistle
written from a daughter to a mother than that which Agnes Arnold,
while dying, dictated to Sister Mary to be forwarded to her mother
after her death. Sister Mary, in concluding her own letter, in which
that of Agnes was enclosed, writes:

"I assure you again, Mrs. Arnold not merely myself, but no one else
here who has come in contact with your noble and self-sacrificing
daughter, will ever forget her, but will ever hold her memory most
dear. No words would suffice to accurately describe the love and
almost veneration with which we esteemed your sweet, de