great distress there was no impatience manifested, nor did a murmur
escape her lips. She said, "It is nothing to die: 'the sting of death
is sin,' and when sin is taken away the sting is gone." On another
occasion she remarked: "I have often heard the words sung--

'Jesus can make a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are'--

and thought they were not strictly true; but now I know that they are
perfectly, _perfectly_ so." Once as we stood by her bedside she
observed her mother and sister weeping, and with a countenance beaming
with joy (sufficient to remind us of 1 Pet. 1:8) she expressed
surprise, remarking: "It seems to me I am only crossing a narrow
brook, and as I look back I see you all coming--we shall soon meet."
Her view of her own weakness and sinfulness was indeed clear, but she
had such unwavering faith in her Redeemer as enabled her to say:
"Dying seems to me like laying the head back and closing the eyes,
just to open them in a few moments on the joys of paradise." The
following lines, written with a pencil on the cover and blank leaf of
her French Testament, were the last she ever wrote. They are dated
March 3--just ten days before her death--and give indubitable evidence
of the clearness of her intellect and the strength of her faith while
passing through "the valley of the shadow of death":--

"Jesus, I know thou art the living Word!
Each blessed promise to myself I take;
I would not doubt, if I had only heard
This--this alone, '_I never will forsake!_'

I have no fear-the sting of death is sin,