grateful for the blessings we do enjoy, for are not friends--true,
tender friends, the greatest and holiest of blessings? and while we
have them God forgive us for murmuring at his dealings."

The last entries in her diary are: "Feb. 2. Very sick"; "Tuesday, 3rd.
No better." It is uncertain when the following lines were written, but
it might have been about this time:--

"I'm going home to that bright land of rest
Where pain and grief and sickness are unknown;
The year begins in sorrow, but will close
In joys that never end--I'm going home!
Last year the warning came on sunken eye
And wasted cheek. I gazed and thought to spend
My Christmas with the angels. God knows best;
And here I linger, weary sufferer still.
The morning comes long watched-for, long desired;
The day drags on, and then the sleepless night:
But this will have an end--it must be soon."

About six weeks before her death she was taken with nausea and
vomiting: everything she took distressed her, and for the last
twenty-three days she took no nourishment save what water contains.
Her prayer--

"Close to the Cross, close to the Cross. God grant I may be found
When death shall call my spirit hence, or the last trumpet sound,"--

was indeed answered. Her end was very peaceful and happy. For several
weeks not a cloud seemed to pass over her mind; and though often in