oot of the bed, leaning upon the
post, and unable to take his eyes off the child from whom he was so soon
to part.

Elizabeth's eyes were closed, and as yet she perceived me not. But over
her face, though pale, sunk, and hollow, the peace of God, which passeth
all understanding, had cast a triumphant calm.

The soldier, after a short pause, silently reached out his Bible towards
me, pointing with his finger at 1 Cor. xv. 55, 56, 57. I then broke
silence by reading the passage, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave,
where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin
is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through
our Lord Jesus Christ."

At the sound of these words her eyes opened, and something like a ray of
divine light beamed on her countenance as she said, "Victory! victory!
through our Lord Jesus Christ."

She relapsed again, taking no further notice of any one present.

"God be praised for the triumph of faith!" said I.

"Amen!" replied the soldier.

The Dairyman's uplifted eye showed that the Amen was in his heart, though
his tongue failed to utter it.

A short struggling for breath took place in the dying young woman, which
was soon over; and then I said to her,--

"My dear friend, do you not feel that you are supported?"

"The Lord deals very gently with me," she replied.

"Are not his promises now very precious to you?"

"They are all yea and amen in Christ Jesus."

"Are you in much bodily pain?"

"So little that I almost forget it."

"How good the Lord is!"

"And how unworthy am I!"

"You are going to see him as he is."

"I think--I hope--I believe that I am."

She again fell into a short slumber.

Looking at her mother, I said, "What a mercy to have a child so near
heaven as yours is!"

"And what a mercy," she replied, in broken accents, "if her poor old
mother might but follow her there! But, sir, it is so hard to part!"

"I hope through grace by faith you will soon meet to part no more; it
will be but a little while."

"Sir," said the Dairyman, "that thought supports me, and the Lord's
goodness makes me feel more reconciled than I was."

"Father--mother," said the reviving daughter, "He is good to me--trust
Him, praise Him evermore."

"Sir," added she, in a faint voice, "I want to thank you for your
kindness to me--I want to ask a favour;--you buried my sister--will you
do the same for me?"

"All shall be as you wish, if Go