schools and cottages, and doing her works of kindliness, this honoured lady was kept in perfect peace.
A severe illness in January, 1861, from which she recovered, was felt as a premonition of the end. She diligently began from that time to set her house in order; comforting her heart by thinking of others, and devising good to the hundreds of children in her schools and to their parents.
Her last illness was rather sudden, and it does not seem that she was aware of its alarming character; but her life had long been a preparation for death. Holy living is what we should emulate, and leave the dying testimony to shape itself as the Lord directs.
On Sunday evening, the 31st of January, in her seventieth year, she closed her eyes on this world, to open them in the land of the blest; realizing the words of her favourite hymn, on the last words of Rutherford:—
"The sands of time are sinking;
The dawn of heaven breaks;
The summer morn I've sighed for—
The fair sweet morn, awakes.
Dark, dark, hath been the midnight,
But the dayspring is at hand;
And glory, glory dwelleth
In our Immanuel's land."
