of my uncle, and, though he still breathed, I was
not to hear it again. He had sunk gradually for
weeks, and now, though his lips moved a little, a
word could not be heard. His face was sunk and
pallid, his breathing uneasy, and his eyes were closed.
After a short time we left, and at four o'clock in the
morning, without a struggle, his spirit passed quietly
away to his "eternal inheritance." "They that turn
many to righteousness shall shine as the stars for
ever and ever." I never, I believe, shall forget how
forcibly came to my mind, as I sat beside his lifeless
form, the words, "To this end Christ both died, and
rose, and revived, that He might be Lord both of
the dead and the living," and my thoughts turned
on many a solemn and blessed trust implied in them.

Her uncle, Samuel Rundell, died on the 4th of 5th Month, 1848, at the
age of eighty-five. In the _Annual Monitor_ for the following year is
a short Memoir of his life.

It had been for some years a frequent occupation with Eliza, together
with her sisters and cousins, to spend the long winter evenings with
her aged uncle and aunt, and after the decease of the former these
attentions were more constantly needed by the survivor. It was
striking to notice Eliza's cheerful alacrity to relinquish, when her
turn came round, her favorite pursuits, often for some weeks together,
in order to comfort and enliven the declining days of this aged
relative.

_7th Mo. --th_. My mental condition a quiet but