238 John Bacliman. 



deavoring to use her own words, but tlie love that 

 shone in her countenance, and the fervor of the soft 

 and gentle tones of her voice, no language can 

 convey. 



For some time before her death she had expected 

 the event and sought, by the help of God, to prepare 

 for it. Yet, she concealed her impression from us, 

 for fear of giving us pain. When she disclosed her 

 mind to me, I found that she had already advanced 

 far in the Christian life. She lost every fear of 

 death, and her hopes became brighter and brighter. 

 "She was waiting," she said, "'for the joyful hour, 

 when her Saviour would call her to His blessed 

 arms." Her natural reserve and timidity were 

 thrown off. There was a purity of thought and a 

 propriety of language, that indicated that we had 

 never sufficiently appreciated the powers of her 

 mind. Her aunt Maria likened it to inspiration. 

 While still on earth she seemed to partake of the 

 angelic character. I have never witnessed in my 

 long ministry so triumphant a death. 



We are, as you may suppose, worn with watching 

 and sorrow, and w^ill, therefore, linger for a week at 

 '• Blue Sulphur " for rest. 



Think not that grief has unmanned me. I trust 

 in God, and I will not repine. My energies will 

 soon be restored, and I shall seek to perform the 

 manifold duties that are yet enjoined upon me. 



The departed had said to Dr. Burke, " Promise 

 not to give me anodynes to deaden pain ; I w^ould 

 far rather bear the greatest suffering, than to have 

 my intellect clouded in the smallest degree ;" and to 

 her Father, " Remember, bury me here ; do not take 

 my body over these rough, steep mountains, it is un- 

 necessary trouble and expense. I can rest here just 



