he was very patient, and generally cheerful, tho'
at times her courage fainted and she thought that she should not
recover,--wishing only that she could see her friends at home once
more before she died. At such moments she loved to repeat these
lines [by Andrews Norton], which seemed to soothe her feelings:--

"Father! I thank thee! may no thought
E'er deem thy chastisements severe.
But may this heart, by sorrow taught,
Calm each wild wish, each idle fear."

On Sunday, the 22nd, all her pain had left her, and she said she had
not felt so well during her sickness. On this day, too, we received
a letter from Margaret, which gave her great pleasure, and renovated
her spirits very much. But still from day to day she gained no
strength. In this situation she continued during the whole
week--perfectly calm, cheerful and without any pain. On Friday
another letter came from Margaret, and she listened to it with
greatest delight. A few minutes afterwards a letter from you and
Eliza was brought in, which I reserved for the next day. When I went
to her on Saturday morning I found her countenance much changed, and
my heart sank within me. Till this moment I had indulged the most
sanguine hopes;--but now my fears overmastered them. She was
evidently worse, though she felt as well as usual. The day passed
without change; and towards evening, as she seemed a little restless
and could not sleep, I sat down by her bedside, and read your letter
and Eliza's to her. O, I shall never forget how her eyes and her
whole countenance brightened, and with what a heavenly smile she
looked up into my face as I read. My own hopes revived again to see
that look; but alas! this was the last gleam of the dying lamp.
Towards ten o'clock she felt a slight oppression in the chest, with
a difficulty of breathing. I sat down by her side and tried to cheer
her; and as her respiration became more difficult, she said to me,
"Why should I be troubled; If I die God will take me to himself."
And from this moment she was perfectly calm, excepting for a single
instant, when she exclaimed, "O, my dear Father; how he will mourn
for me." A short time afterwards she thanked Clara for her kindness,
and clasping her arms affectionately round my neck, kissed me, and
said, "Dear Henry, do not forget me!" and after