Chapter XIV

Uring the previous summer, Alice’s little

namesake, Alice W. S, opened her blue

eyes upon the world, and when she was four weeks old Alice had the pleasure at Atlantic City of holding her for a few moments in her arms. A sweet picture they made; the one so soon to leave the cares and joys of earth for her home in heaven, the other just entering upon life, with all its uncertainty as to earthly joy and prosperity.

Upon first hearing of her birth and name, Alice thus writes to the little one’s mother, her “sister-cousin:” —

“Ain’t I proud, though, to have a namesake! I am delighted. May the dear little pet be a great comfort to her mamma, and may she early know, love, and glorify our precious Lord and Master, is the prayer of her loving Aunt Alice.”

In the fall of this year Alice’s health seemed so much better that it was thought advisable to try a journey northward, and she was taken to Saratoga, Pittsfield, and New Bedford. During her two months absence from home she continued to improve, slowly but steadily. Long rides over the mountains seemed to agree with her, and she often spoke with pleasure of these delightful excursions, some of which required the day to accomplish.

She returned to her home the last of eleventh month, so much stronger and better, that hopes were raised in the hearts of her friends that she might ultimately recover. But it was not the will of her Heavenly Father that she should tarry on earth much longer. About the first of first month, 1868, her appetite again began to fail, and she grew rapidly weaker, until all became apprehensive that she could not remain longer than the spring. She had lost her voice some weeks previously, and from that time was never able to speak above a whisper, but her energy and cheerfulness continued undiminished, and she wished to be carried down-stairs and out to ride until a few days before her death.

Although so weak in body, she still neglected no opportunity of speaking to others of their souls’ salvation.

Since her death, M, a girl who sometimes

waited on her, acknowledged that her first serious thoughts on the subject of religion were consequent upon personal appeals made to her by Alice, during her illness.

One of her sisters writes:” I remember now, her telling me at the time, of the first conversation she

had with M on the subject. It was one morning

when I was unable to assist her in dressing. When

M came in the room, although she really longed

to say something to her pa anally, it seemed like ajreat undertaking, a perfect mountain before her.

gT

Satan suggested that she needed all her little strength for dressing, which always so much exhausted her; and in reference to her weakness she said, ‘I never felt more entirely without strength, and unfit to say a word; indeed I seemed not to have a word to say; “but I knew that God could speak through me, supplying all needed strength; so I just cast myself on Him, and asked Him to open the way for me to introduce the subject easily and naturally; and I don’t think I ever spoke with less effort to any one, or with more conscious power of the Holy Spirit.’

“I remember the animation with which she spoke of this way of faith, saying that it made hard things so easy, removing in a moment mountains of difficulty.

“How my heart rejoices that the precious seed sown by her in so much weakness, has been made fruitful by the Holy Spirit to another heart. How rich will be her reward as she meets these redeemed ones at that last great day! Many, we believe, will be gathered through her words and prayers, that we shall never know of here, but they will shine as stars in her crown of rejoicing.”

Often during Alice’s illness a few of the disciples of the Lord Jesus gathered in her room on the first day of the week, as did the early Christians, to break bread in remembrance of their Lord. Several weeks before her departure she wished once more thus to show forth her Lord’s death, but she evidently felt that it was the last time she would meet with His children, thus to remember Him on earth. Her eyes filled with tears, and although she said nothing, it was one of the very few occasions on which sls

R seemed to feel the coming separation from all earthly ties and fellowships.

Many times during those last months she spoke of her departure. She seemed to be quietly waiting by the river, clinging to nothing on earth, but ready at any moment for the summons. She often said, “I am very happy; Jesus keeps me in perfect peace, resting upon Him,” and upon several occasions remarked, “It seems almost wrong in me to be so happy at the thought of going, when I know it makes you all feel so sad.”

Her sister from St John was not able to reach Tswedelle before the last of third mo. on account of severe storms, and at times it seemed doubtful whether Alice would live to see her. In speaking of it, she said, “I would love to see dear Annie again, and I know it would be a great satisfaction to her to be here, but 1 feel no clinging to it; I know it will be just right.”

Several weeks before they met, Alice wrote her the following little note: —

“March 12, 1868.

“My own Sweet Sister, —

“I feel as if I could not stand it another minute without writing to thee; it makes thee seem so much further off when I don’t talk to thee myself.

“Carrie has told thee, of course, how much worse I am in body; but I am very happy. I think the thought of just falling asleep in Jesus is perfectly sweet. It is so different from my old view of death: and this is all that death is to him who trusts in Jesus — just falling asleep on Jesus’ breast to awake at the dorious resurrection morn. &” Yesterday, and indeed for two or three days, I seemed so prostrated, I thought the end must be verynear, and I longed to write thee a love-greeting once again, my precious one. But I feel so much revived after a better night, that when I found I could eat a little breakfast this morning, I almost felt as if I might last until thou comes; but whatever is His will, darling, we know He will make sweet to us.

“Jesus is so strong and so loving, we haven’t anything to be afraid of while He is near. And He is very near to sustain me, and I trust He will be so to the end, and I trust Him, too, to sustain all of you, my dear ones.

... “I am thy own sister; best of all, one in Jesus, and soon, oh, how soon, we shall together 1 hail Him triumphant descending the skies tJ It will only be a little while at longest. Lovingly,

“Alice,”

After embracing once again this dear sister, it seemed as if Alice had nothing more to desire in this world, saying that her Heavenly Father had mercifully given her all, and more than she could have asked. She had taken a last farewell on earth of almost all her friends, many of whom came from a distance to see her once more. For most of these she had some parting token of her love, some of which were presented by herself with tender words of farewell; and although these partings were inexpressibly sad to her family and friends, they cannot be looked back upon as mournful. It was as if she were going on a pleasant journey, and had prepared these as tokens of loving remembrance during her absence. Those who received them made great efforts not to sadden her peaceful spirit, by manifesting in her presence the grief of their own hearts. A happy smile often rested on her face, and several times she made such remarks as the following: “What a blessing it is that almost all my friends are Christians! Some of them do not enjoy the full assurance of faith, but it is very sweet that I can say to nearly every one, ‘We shall meet in heaven.’”

To others of her friends these memorials came not until Alice had gone to her home above, and then the message accompanying them — sometimes a peculiarly appropriate text — came like a breath of inspiration from the spirit-land, impressing, in her well remembered and loving accents, the word of truth upon the heart.

She sent the 14th verse of the 27 th Psalm, which was a great favourite of hers, as a farewell message to a friend who was unable to come to see her. To another she wrote a few parting words, closing with: —

“My dear friend, cleave close to Jesus; let Him

be your all in all. The joys He gives are far better

than what the world can give, and I pray you not to

let it draw your heart away from heaven, from Jesus,

our Jesus, who loves us so much, and longs to have

us live very close to Him, because He does love us

so much. Oh, the wonderful depths of that love! I

am just revelling in it now. The love and the mercy

and the grace are all true, and our King changes not.

What a resting-place is the bosom of Jesus for the

dying sinner!

‘I am a poor sinner, and nothing at all,
But Jesus Christ is my all and in all.’”

The following extracts are taken from memoranda made by one of her sisters during the last month of Alice’s illness: —

“4th mo. 6th. Dear Alice is too weak to say much, but every member of the family receives at all times a loving smile and hearty welcome to her room. “When dressed for the day, and occupying her usual reclining position on the sofa, she enjoys much having us all gather in the room, and listens with interest to the cheerful conversation, sometimes taking part by a few words, or a smile of assent All that she says is spoken in a whisper, and a few words at a time, as she finds breath.

“She seemed quite surprised to-day when I told

her that A. T (a very skilful nurse, who had

been much with her, and to’ whom she was much attached) thought that in two or three weeks she could come to be with her through the summer if she needed her. She looked up and said, in her old quick way, ‘I should like to know how much longer she thinks I am going to live.’ I replied, ‘She told me she thought thee might be with us for weeks, or even months.’ I knew that Alice was hoping that the summons would come unexpectedly and very soon, and that this was far from good news to her; but in an instant she checked the little impatience of her manner, and, although her eyes filled with tears, she said, quickly, ‘I would not have it any way but the Lord’s way; still I feel so weary sometimes, — I just long to fall asleep in Jesus.’ I told her she must remember what a precious boon every added day and hour of her stay was to us, while she was not suffering more than at present, although we could only say with her, ‘Thy will be done.’

“4th mo. nth. This evening, when Annie kissed her good night, she said, ‘Such a happy thought has been filling my mind to-day, — I do not think any of us realise how near I shall be to you, — when I have left this body, and am with the Lord. — In all your communion with Him I shall be there! ’

“4th mo. 15th. Dear Alice suffered much from oppression to-day; but when Annie told her that, although we can do so little to show our sympathy, we do feel for her from the depths of our hearts, she said, ‘You must not sympathise with me, for I don’t feel as if I need any sympathy. — I do not want you to feel sorry, but to praise the Lord that I am kept in such perfect peace. — It don’t seem as if I have to bear my suffering; — I seem to be carried through it:”

The preceding extract gives evidence of dear Alice’s thoughtfulness for others, which was a most touching feature all through her illness, and which shone conspicuously as her life wore to its close. She kept hidden, as much as possible from her beloved friends, the suffering she was enduring, that their feelings might not be wrought upon by perceiving its full extent; and, indeed, it really seemed as if she so entirely cast herself upon her Saviour for bodily relief and comfort, as well as for spiritual, that she realised in a degree the literal fulfilment of the prophecy spoken of by Matthew: “Himself took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses.”

Two of the little band of cousins before spoken of made a farewell visit to Alice on the 22nd of the 4th mo. They thus write about it: —

“We found darling Alice very weak, and unable to speak above a whisper. She was lying on the sofa in the large front room; the soft spring air stealing in through the open window. Everything about her wore a bright and cheerful aspect, and all her surroundings, even to her little round table, with its vase of delicate flowers, glass of ice-water, and dainty little saucer of gum arabic, bore witness to the refinement of her taste.

“The gentle invalid herself never looked more lovely as she welcomed us each warmly with tender kiss and pressure of the hand. Her soft hair, turned back from her sweet pale face, revealed an expression of almost heavenly loveliness. She looked only too ready to depart.

“Our conversation soon turned upon heavenly things, and for the few short hours of our visit we enjoyed the privilege of holding with our precious cousin sweeter communion than we had ever known when all in the buoyancy of health. The glory and joy of the resurrection were themes upon which Alice dwelt with delight, and vividly did she seem to realise that she should be a partaker of the coming of Christ, and of the glory that should follow; that as she had suffered, with Him, so also she should reign with Him. While she thus fully entered into the enjoyment of all the glorious future as revealed in the Scriptures, she was not dismayed because there is so little direct revelation with regard to the intermediate state of those who sleep -in Jesus, but had intense comfort in the assurance that she would immediately see and enjoy her Saviour. ‘I shall be with Jesus, and that will be enough,’ she said, and these words; so full of reality to her, were to us words of great solemnity.

“It was remarked by one present that as she lay there so patiently suffering she was permitted to glorify her Lord. She replied, with evident feeling of her own nothingness, ‘How wonderful that a worm can glorify Him! ’

“The thought was suggested to her, that as she was the first of the group of cousins who had thus tried the power of their Saviour, she was the means of greatly strengthening the faith of the rest in manifesting that He took away all fear of death from one who simply trusted in Him for salvation. She replied, stopping after every few words to take breath, 1 What a privilege it is to prove Him; it has been my privilege to do this both for a sudden death and a lingering one. — When I thought myself dying (from poison) — four or five years ago, — I felt no fear, for I could just cast myself on Jesus, — and now I can trust Him in the same way for a lingering death, — although it takes much greater faith to keep trusting Him for so long a time, — for Satan never wearies in tempting. — Sometimes he comes in the night and says, “You know you would be dreadfully frightened if you should have to die now, — to-night.”’ On being asked how she met such suggestions: ‘Oh V she said, ‘I tell him to be gone. — If I depended on him, I should be frightened at the thought of death, — but my dependence is placed on One stronger than he, — and I know that He will never leave me nor forsake me.

“In reply to one who remarked what a comfort it was to see her so happy, she said: ‘My heavenly Father is so good! it seems almost too good not to let any clouds come in; ’ and afterwards, ‘I know what it is to abide in Christ; I feel extinguished in Him.’

“Dear Alice’s voice was so low, we had to be very quiet to catch all she said. She kept her eyes mostly cast down, but now and then she would look up, with a kindling glance of earnestness and love, as she said something of her Jesus, or responded to His praises from another. We did not let her see the anguish of our hearts as we thus looked upon her for the last time on earth. Once when she noticed the tears that would not be withheld, she said that she did not dare to let her thoughts dwell upon the separation from her loved ones; it wrould be too agonising for her to bear; and hearing her mother’s step outside, she said, ‘There’s darling little mother; I can’t think about her.’

“When we bade her farewell she kissed us again and again, and said, ‘It won’t be long.’”

Another dear cousin about this time made her a parting visit. He writes: —

“Never shall I forget the impression left by this visit. Dear Alice appeared like one about to start on a pleasant journey, which she had long looked towards, and now that its realisation was near, she seemed unable to conceal a certain exuberance of joy. As I was about leaving, she called me to her

side, and said, ‘Dear cousin J, I want to give

thee the words of the Psalmist. ‘Wait on the Lord, be of good courage, and He shall strengthen thine heart.’ How often since her death has this promise, given of the Lord, and confirmed by her angelic departing spirit, come to me with power. ‘She being dead, yet speaketh.’”

One of her friends who visited her at this time writes: —

“I remember how dear Alice, characteristically drawing a spiritual significance from little things, called my attention to an odorator which had been given to her. As her sister gently breathed into it, and diffused its perfume through the room, she said: ‘Isn’t it like the Christian? He may have Christ in his heart, and enjoy the possession of the gospel, but it is only when breathed on by the Holy Ghost that he has power to convey to others the blessing of it

?

One of dear Alice’s greatest enjoyments and comforts was to hear portions of Scripture and familiar hymns repeated. This was done many times a day* She did not weary of repetitions of the same, but wanted to hear them again and again, each time seeming to receive fresh nourishment and strength. At one time, when taken suddenly in the night with a spell of suffocation, one of her sisters being alone with her, was so anxious to relieve her physical distress, by getting ether, fanning her, &c, that she forgot to repeat texts, as Alice had before requested her to do at such times. But Alice, who seemed to value spiritual comfort more than that intended only for the body, afterwards begged her never to forget it again, saying that at such times it was impossible for her to think — mind and body seemed a chaos of suffering; and, she added, “You don’t know how the precious words and promises of Scripture fall upon my ear, as if Jesus himself were speaking, and they seem to do me more good than anything else.”

When at all able, she requested to see every one that called, silently and cheerfully bearing any additional suffering their presence in her room might cause, being anxious to gratify their desire of seeing her once more, and wishing to neglect no opportunity of witnessing for Jesus, even with her latest breath. Although daily and hourly growing weaker in body, her spiritual strength seemed to be continually increased, and her mouth opened by the Lord to speak constantly of heavenly things.

On the 25th of 4th mo., twelve days before her death, one of her sisters writes: “When suffering a great deal from oppression and nausea, so that the tears would come, she said:” I seem to you to be suffering a great deal — and I am so weak that even a little pain will bring the tears — but underneath it all I take a great deal of comfort; — I have been having such a sweet, happy time to-day.’

“In the evening, when Annie bade her good-night, wishing her sweet and comforting thoughts, she said: ‘You cannot know how full of happiness I am within. I want you to know — so that you may not mind so much seeing me suffer.’

“4th mo. 29th. On reading the forty-sixth Psalm to her, and remarking how she had marked and underscored it in her Bible, she said: ‘Yes, I love that Psalm — I want you to say it to me when I am dying.’

She asked me to copy a favourite hymn, entitled ‘Lean Hard,’ for her to send to a friend, saying — ‘It is beautiful; it grows upon you/

“This evening, after her position had been changed, and she was, consequently, much fatigued, I repeated a little verse which had been a favourite during the past winter: —

‘Pilgrim of earth, who art journeying to heaven! Heir of eternal life, child of the day! Cared for, watched over, beloved, and forgiven, Art thou discouraged because of the way? ’

“She answered me at once with a very emphatic ‘No,’ adding, ‘God has been so good to me!”

“5th mo. 1st. This morning, when the eighth chapter of Romans was read to her, she said with a heavenly smile, ‘Is not that glorious? ’ and later when physical suffering caused the tears to roll down her cheeks, she said, ‘These tears have no business here; but they are only outside tears, — for my heart is not crying, — when I think where I am going, — and

“’tis but a little longer/” referring to A. S ’s

verse: —

’ ‘Tis but a little longer;

Methinks the end I see:
Oh! matchless love and mercy,

The Bridegroom waits for me, — Waits to present me faultless

Before His Father’s throne;
His comeliness my beauty,

His righteousness my own.’

She could only follow these lines with her lips, excepting the last, which she said aloud.

“Later she said: ‘Tell me the old, old story.’ We thought she meant the story in verse, and upon search being made for it, she said: ‘You know it; I want it from the Bible, Many verses were repeated to her, but she said: ‘About Moses lifting up the serpent.’ — When it was finished, she said: ‘That is it — when you want to comfort any one — point to the object of our faith — Jesus Christ crucified. — The nearer I approach to death — the more clearly I see the glorious truth, — that we are justified by faith in Jesus alone, and that works have nothing to do with it, — excepting as the fruits of faith. — I feel that my works are nothing, — nothing but filthy rags —

” Thy righteousness, O Christ!
Alone can clothe and beautify,
I wrap it round my soul,
In it I ’11 live and die.’”

“After passing through a severe turn of difficulty of breathing, she said: ‘When I was suffering so much from oppression a while ago, — that verse was such a comfort to me — “He that trusteth in the Lord shall never be confounded.” ’

“5th mo. 2d. This was a day of peculiarly sweet and heavenly intercourse, although dear Alice’s weakness prevented her taking part in the conversation, excepting in broken sentences, and by expressive looks and words of assent.

“The 53d chapter of Isaiah and the 8th chapter of John were during the morning particularly the subject of our conversation. In dwelling upon the precious truths contained in these portions of Scripture, the communion of spirit that was enjoyed we felt to be more precious than if it could have been expressed in words.

“She took pleasure in looking out of the window for the first time for many days at the beautiful landscape which lay smiling in the sunlight; but the beauties of earth seemed only to make her think of the transcendent joys and glories of heaven.

“When it was remarked how sweetly the birds were singing, she said: ‘Singing praises, and added, looking lovingly at father, who with several others of the family were gathered round her, ‘I wish we could sing a hymn of praise all together. — I want to die singing praises; ’ and indeed I think we could have sung a song of thanksgiving and praise even then, for the atmosphere around our precious one was such that the unseen and spiritual seemed the only real things in life, and for the time we could share her joy at the thought of so soon entering into the unveiled presence of her Beloved. Jesus seems very near to her; she said: ‘I used to rest in the promises, but now I rest in the Beloved/

“She sent a message to Aunt M. E. ‘Tell her

that in the hour of trial I find Jesus all sufficient — all is peaceful, and I know that I am going to be with Him who died for me, — and my great comfort is that Jesus Christ did all for me, — and all I have to do is to rest and trust in Him. — Tell her I long to meet her among the glorious company of the redeemed at the resurrection. — I send her for a text, John iii. 14-18,” To dear mother, who with tears was speaking of what her loss would be, and saying that Alice had always been to her all and more than her heart could have desired in a daughter, she replied, — ‘It is the greatest comfort to me that you all give me up so sweetly, and the more precious and lovely I am to thee, darling mother, — the greater will be the sacrifice to give me up to Jesus; — and it is so sweet to give our most precious things to Christ.’

“5th mo. 3d. A lovely first-day morning found our precious one still lingering in the ’ border land.’ She said — ‘Before another Sabbath morning I shall be in heaven.’ I drew her reclining chair toward the window that she might look out, involuntarily exclaiming, as my eyes rested on the green fields and distant blue hills spread out as a panorama before us, 1 If this world is so beautiful and fair, what must heaven be? ‘She kept her eyes closed, and replied as in a murmur from the spirit land: ‘And how fairer than all is He, the source and centre of all blessing.’ / was looking at the fading beauties of this world; she was beholding, although as yet through a glass darkly, the matchless beauties of the eternal, invisible One.

“About noon, when asked if she was much oppressed, she replied, ‘Yes, but I don’t mind it;’ and afterward, when somewhat relieved, said, ‘I feel better now.’ — ; How sweet it is, — so many kind friends.’

“Very much that she said we could not hear, only words occasionally, as, ‘beautiful, ‘lovely.’ When asked if she felt more comfortable, she said, ‘Nothing would be suffering — while realising His near presence, as I do now.’ She always endeavours to direct our thoughts from herself to the Saviour, saying at different times, when asked how she feels, or if she is suffering much, ‘I am resting on Jesus, or ‘The Lord is so good.’

“During this day 1 Cor. xv., and 2 Cor. v., and the four last verses of the fourth chapter, were read. Also, among many others, the twenty-seventh Psalm. She requested the first verse of this to be repeated to her several times, saying, ‘I was trying to remember that verse this morning, but I could not quite get it.’ Many sweet hymns were also read to her. She enjoyed particularly, ‘Rock of Ages,” How firm a foundation,’ and ‘Jesus, lover of my soul.”

11 In the afternoon she expressed a wish to see her nephews and nieces, feeling that her departure was hastening, and the time of her leave-taking getting very short. They were brought in one at a time. She kissed all very lovingly, and to the older ones said a few parting words.

“5th mo. 4th. 2d day. This morning early dear Alice remarked, ‘How sweetly the birds sing — they began just at four o’clock; ’ and then reflecting on the mercies of God toward herself, and her near prospect of entering upon an eternity of happiness, said, ‘We will shout and sing praises to the Lord. — Oh, it is glorious! — I wish you would all shout for joy and sing praises.’

“After a while she said, ‘The name of Jesus is so sweet to me, — say, “How sweet the name of Jesus sounds.”’ She followed with her lips the last two verses: —

* Dear name! the rock on which I build,

My shield and hiding-place;
My never-failing treasury, rilled
With boundless stores of grace.

1 1 would Thy boundless love proclaim

“With every fleeting breath;
And may the music of Thy name
Refresh my soul in death. ’

And then added, ‘Indeed it does refresh me.’

“Again and again she asked for familiar passages of Scripture, and often when thought to be asleep would say, ‘Go on; it does me so much good.’ Once she said, ‘Be sure you say some of those passages when I am dying.’

“Early in the morning she asked for the hymn, * Anywhere with Jesus,’ and a few hours afterward asked for it again. Dear Alice, who was resting with her eyes closed, remarked on the sad tone in which it was read, and, looking up, seemed much surprised at seeing us all in tears; then, as if suddenly remembering the cause of our grief, said, ( ‘Let the Lord strengthen your hearts so that you will not cry; — it makes me feel as if I ought to be sorry too.’

“When Annie spoke of her suffering, she said, ‘It is little I can bear for His sake; — it is the only way I can show I appreciate what He suffered.’”

On the morning of the 5th, third day, it was evident dear Alice’s departure was near at hand. Her sister writes, “We thought this would be our darling’s last day on earth. In the morning her pulse seemed to be growing weaker, and she called us all to come close to her, one at a time, and gave us each a loving farewell.” It was, however, her Heavenly Father’s wrill that she should have another dav and night of suffering. She revived somewhat and fell into a doze for a few moments, and on awaking said,

s a I hoped I was going to rest when I went to sleep that time.” Some time after, knowing how she longed to go, her sister Carrie leaned over her and said, “Darling, don’t thee ever ask the Lord to take thee home soon? - She replied quickly, “No; I leave that to Him; He shall do just as He pleases about it.”

She took her mother’s hand, and said, “Dearest mother, thee ought to rejoice, — it is so sweet, — Heavenly Father, bless dear mother — and comfort her, for Jesus’ sake.” And later, when a sudden thought of the future led one of her sisters to exclaim, “How shall we ever live without thee?” she replied, “The Lord — trust Him; — let Him be your all.”

In the afternoon she said, “I am suffering greatly; but I rejoice to suffer, as He gives me strength.” And again: “Mine is no ecstatic vision, — it is simple faith, — just resting and trusting in Jesus. I am so happy, — but it makes no difference how I feel, does it? His love is always the same,” — then adding with more energy, “It is an absolute duty to have faith in God.”

A friend, for whose salvation she longed, was admitted for a few moments to her room. Dear Alice said, as she gave her a parting kiss, “I want to tell thee, dear, that all we have to do is just to trust in Jesus — He has paid all our debt; — He has done it all; — we have only to trust in Him, and be happy.” To another, who came from a distance scarcely hoping to see her, she said, “I want to add my testimony to those who have gone before, — that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin.”

Later in the afternoon she said, “Tell everybody what a Saviour Jesus is; and then, with her characteristic energy and warmth, added, “He’s such a splendid Saviour!”

Toward evening she said, “All is peace;” and then quoting the two lines which had been the expression of her earliest Christian feeling,

“I am a poor sinner, and nothing at all,
But Jesus Christ is my all and in all,”

she set the seal thereto with her dying lips, saying,

emphatically, “That’s true;” and then, “Where

should I be now if I trusted in anything but Christ?”

She seemed much pleased to see her aunt M.

W, who came from Philadelphia to stay all night,

and see dear Alice once more. In the evening the last nine verses of the seventh chapter of Revelation were read to her, and many comforting texts repeated. Prayer was also offered by her side for her release in the Lord’s own time; “for,” writes one of her sisters, “we could not but feel with her, in the language of one of her favourite hymns —

‘I know not what my soul might lose
By shortened or protracted breath.’”

Late in the evening she asked for the first chapter of 1 st Peter, but by mistake 2d Peter first chapter was begun. She said, “That is not it; I want the one where it says, ‘All flesh is as grass,... but the word of the Lord shall stand for ever.’”

All night she lay upon her large reclining chair. At her earnest solicitation her parents left her for a short rest, and those who remained in the room said little to her during the hours before midnight, hoping that she might be refreshed by sleep. She lay most of the time with her eyes closed, for her weakness and oppression were such that she could say but little. Occasionally the upward glance of her pleading eyes, and the clasping of her hands as if in prayer, revealed the communion she was having with her Beloved. So peaceful she looked, so little trace was there upon her countenance of the suffering she was enduring, that her aunt could hardly realise she was otherwise than comfortable, and, bending over her, asked with affectionate solicitude, if she was suffering much. With clasped hands she replied, “Agony! agony I” All praise to her covenant keeping God, who so strengthened the frail tabernacle as to4et the taking down of the pins thereof be known only to Himself.

After midnight, finding that it was impossible for her to rest or sleep, her sisters endeavoured to comfort and strengthen her by reading or repeating portions of Scripture. She seemed to feel very grateful for this, saying, “You don’t know how much good it does me.” In her very weakened condition she could not, without effort, recall the whole of the texts which arose in her mind, and these she brought to their notice for them to take up and finish, by repeating, in a whisper so faint as sometimes to be scarcely understood, the first two or three words, as, “The Lord is my shepherd;” “God so loved the world.” These comforted her much, and she liked to hear them again and again, saying, “You need not mind repeating the same texts many times, for I like to let my mind rest upon them.”

Her sufferings every hour became much more acute, but not one word of repining escaped her lips. She many times clasped her hands, and moved her lips in prayer, exclaiming, “Come! come J “Once, when in great distress, she said,” Father, my times are in Thine hand;” and again, when almost in agony, and realising the pain it gave those around her to see her in so much suffering, and fearing they might be tempted to doubt the goodness of the Lord, she said, * Don’t let it shake your faith, — there is some good reason.” Her sister writes, “And we who were privileged to watch her in these hot fires, could see how the gold was being purified, and she was every hour growing in likeness to her dear Master. Never shall we forget the heavenly beauty deepening in her face, and the meek, loving, trustful look which grew in her patient eyes.” And another sister adds, “I never could realise before how our Saviour must have looked when He was led as a lamb to the slaughter, meekly willing to surfer all His Father’s will. It was only the reflection of His image in our darling’s face that was so lovely. Truly her prayer of last summer was fully answered — ‘Thy will be done, and make me love it.’”

Several times the beautiful verse was repeated to her —

“And welcome, precious, can His Spirit make
My little drop of suffering for His sake;
Father, the cup I drink, the path I take,
All, all are known to Thee;”

when her eyes always gave the full assent which she was too weak to speak.

She asked for the second chapter of Songs of Solomon, but being so low, she fell into a doze as it was read, and on awakening she said, “Did you read it all? I did not hear about the spring-time coming, — and the singing of birds.” — It was read again.

About four o’clock her sisters began to sing some of her favourite hymns. This appeared greatly to relieve the feeling of bodily distress, and she followed the words whenever she was able with her trembling lips. After singing one or two, fearing she might be tired, they would stop, when, looking at them affectionately, she would say, “When you are rested sing it again.” The one she seemed most to enjoy was

“REST FOR THE WEARY.”

“In the Christian’s home in glory
There remains a land of rest,
There my Saviour’s gone before me,
To fulfil my soul’s request.
There is rest for the weary,

There is rest for me,
On the other side of Jordan,
In the sweet fields of Eden,
Where the tree of life is blooming
There is rest for nve.

“He is fitting up my mansion,
Which eternally shall stand;
For my stay shall not be transient
In that holy, happy land.

“Pain and sickness ne’er shall enter,
Grief nor woe my lot shall share,
But in that celestial centre
, I a crown of life shall wear.

“Sing, oh sing, ye heirs of glory;
Shout your triumphs as you go;
Zion’s gates shall open for you,

You shall find an entrance through.”

This they sang again and again, Alice asking for it many times, and their dear Saviour, who was manifestly present with that little band, enabled her beloved sisters to sing these touching lines with steady voices, and to join with her in looking forward with longing hope to the time which was soon to take their darling from them.

Thus through the still hours of the night from that chamber of death, instead of the voice of weeping, arose hymns of faith and hope, mingled with songs of praise.

Early in the morning she was removed from the chair to the sofa, which was placed in the centre of the room that she might have air from the open windows. The rosy light crept over that landscape upon which dear Alice’s eyes had so often delighted to linger, but for her another and a fairer vision was opening into view.

About half-past five she seemed to be passing away; her breathing grew faint, and her colour faded, and those of the family who were not present were called. Her father held one hand, her pulse each moment becoming more feeble and fluctuating. Her sister bent over her and said, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning,” “Into Thy hand I commit my spirit; Thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth.” Her face lit up at once with a sweet heavenly smile, and she bowed her head in token of assent.

One by one the little group around her bent over her for their last kiss, and to each she gave a sweet, loving look and smile, and then closed her eyes and said,” It is so lovely to be going.’’

But, although her pulse had nearly ceased, it was her Heavenly Father’s will she should again revive. Feeling herself getting stronger, she looked around upon her friends, and said, “Are you sure I am not reviving?” and in a few minutes, with an appealing glance to her father, “Father, am I dying? “He could not bear to tell her — what he knew would be a disappointment to her — that he thought she might live many hours — but one of her sisters, who during the night while praying for her, had been impressed with the belief that she would soon be released, said,” Yes, darling, I am sure the Lord will take thee home this morning.’’ But she still repeated, “Father, am I dying?” He told her her pulse was getting stronger. She said, “It is all right; I want the Lord’s will done.”

When feeling somewhat better, she asked for the story of Stephen; and later said, “Read me about the crucifixion.” She seemed much strengthened and comforted by these Scriptures, and other portions which were read to her, particularly the fifty-third of Isaiah. She repeated, “He was oppressed.”

The hymn

“I know not the way I am going,
But well do I know my Guide,”

was repeated to her, and several times, when emotion caused a short pause, dear Alice went on with the next line, thinking it was forgotten.

The valley of the shadow of death was so lighted by the presence of Jesus, that she saw no darkness, and, in reply to one who said, “The valley is not so very dark, is it, darling? “she said,” Oh, if I could only get into the valley! “and afterward,” Come,

Lord Jesus, come quickly; “and again, quite distinctly,” Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.’’

But a short time before her spirit took its flight she folded her hands, and with a sweet upward look, as though gazing upon “Him who is invisible,” she said, in faintest whispers, “My Beloved is mine, and I am His.”

The doctor came, and, after the usual greeting, she asked him how long he thought she would last. Upon his replying, “Not more than a few hours,” she raised her eyes to heaven with a smile full of rejoicing. But she did not have even a few hours more of suffering. The doctor administered an opiate, which seemed to relieve her very much, and she .said, gratefully, “I feel so much better.” He then recommended moving her a little upon one side, to relieve the fatigue of having for many hours reclined in one position. Just before she was moved, her sister leaned over and said, “Jesus is very near thee still, is He not, darling?” She replied, “Yes, He is to be praised.” Her position was changed, and almost in a moment, without a groan or struggle, she slept in Jesus. One sister was supporting her, the other knelt beside her holding her hand, and thought, as she nestled her head among the pillows, “how comfortable she is;” but in a moment, perceiving that she was passing away, exclaimed, “Almost home, darling, almost home! “and as she drew her last breath, said,” With the Lord — for ever with the Lord!;’

Thus did this young disciple, in the twenty-ninth year of her age, pass from earth to heaven, with songs of praise upon her lips, and was ushered into the presence of her Beloved, with words of faith and hope from those she loved best on earth. Her sister writes, “Praise was the most fitting language to express the feeling left in that chamber of death. We could but give thanks that our darling was safe at rest in the bosom of Jesus.”

“Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord! Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours 3 and their works do follow them.”

Her “sister-cousin,” on hearing of her death, expressed not only her own feelings, but those of most of the family, when she wrote: —

“I have just heard the sad and yet joyful news of our precious Alice’s release from this world, and her entrance into everlasting rest.... It is almost hard as yet to think of the blank she has left, so vividly do I realise her overwhelming, transcendent joy in at last seeing Jesus face to face, and sitting down in His presence never more to go out for a second, never more to feel a temptation, never more to lose sight of His loving smile, never to miss for an instant the touch of His hand. Oh, it is perfectly glorious to think of it! Darling, sweet Alice is satisfied at last! Satisfied! It fills my whole soul with joy to imagine it, and to try to realise a little of her rapture.

“I know well that for myself there is a very precious thing taken out of life, but it seems to me I could shout a song of thanksgiving as I think of the untold and unspeakable bliss upon which she has entered. Two days already she has been with Jesus! It thrills my soul to think of it, and to realise a little of what it must be!”

Her aunt M. W writes: —

“I feel so thankful to have been privileged to be present at her sweet, lovely death-scene. Her beaming countenance at moments when she looked round upon you all, the felt nearness of the dear Saviour, are among our precious memories to be cherished.”

One of her cousins writes: —

“How sweet the remembrance of dear Alice is, even to those of us who saw but little of her, as she faded away; that little revealing, as it did, the perfect support and consolation she found in her Saviour, greatly strengthens our faith in Him.

It seemed strange that she, the youngest ot the cousins, should be called first to test the faithfulness of that Saviour whom we all learned to love together. But I don’t believe any of the rest of us could have glorified Him so much in the furnace. By the longest and most painful life, she could not have borne a more faithful witness to the power and love of her Lord than she did in her short, happy life, and most triumphant death.”

Another one of the five cousins writes: —

“Not only her life, but her death, has been blessed

to us all. It seems as if she brought Jesus down to

us. I have felt Him so much nearer and more real,

since He was so manifestly with Alice. And it is so strengthening to my faith to realise how He supported her to the very end. Sweet Alice!

* How many burdened hearts have prayed,
Their lives like thine might be,

But more shall pray henceforth for aid
To lay them down like thee.’

“The priceless memories of her pure and holy life, and the hallowed recollections of her peaceful death, are, indeed, a treasury of blessings,”

The following extracts are from the letters of two very dear friends: —

“I do not suppose any one not of your immediate family could have loved sweet Alice more than I did. She occupied a very warm corner of my heart, and I feel as if one of the loveliest flowers of my heart’s garden had fallen — ’ the wind passeth over it, and it is gone ’ — great was ’ the grace of the fashion of it. Thanks for such a precious gift as that sweet child!”

u In the midst of all the sorrow of to-day, I felt how near Jesus was — the same Lord who wept not for Lazarus, but for the bereaved sisters. How real this sorrow makes the sympathy of Christ, and how the heart can rest upon Him through it ail.

“You are rich in the memories of a life so truly hid with Christ in God, — memories now beyond all value, and pointing us to the source of all her joy and hope and victory over the world. May we have grace to walk in her footsteps, in living faith, and practical devotedness of heart to the Lord!

There is the same living fountain for us that so filled her soul, and overflowed to all around.”

All through her illness dear Alice had a vivid realisation of the sadness to the surviving relatives, of all connected with the body after the spirit has departed. Once she said to her sister, “I should feel so differently about it if I could only take my body with me, but I cannot bear to leave it to be a care to you.” In connection with this her sister writes, “She would not have said so if she could have known how all the distressing sadness was taken away. It was remarkable how sweet and almost beautiful everything connected with her death was. Entering the small hall chamber, where all that was left of our dear one lay, you could scarcely help the unexpressed wish that she could look down, and see how lovely and attractive her resting-place had been made. The soft light fell through the curtained window on the central object, draped, as was the room, in white. The choicest blooming plants from the conservatory had been brought to adorn the chamber, and on a little round table beside our dear one, just as her weary eyes had so often rested upon it, stood a beautiful tea-rose in full bloom, with her Bible beside it, and the easy-chairs drawn up close, as if we could read to her her favourite passages, as we had so lately done. It was a sacred place for reading and prayer, and several times we collected there and read together those words which were so precious to her. Even at the grave the sadness of death seemed swallowed up in resurrection, and almost more real than the lowered casket was the happy anticipation of her glorified body, radiant with life and beauty, rising joyfully to

“Hail Him triumphant descending the skies.”

The following extract is from an account of her funeral, written by one of Alice’s dear friends, to another at a distance who was unable to attend it: —

... “As I sat and gazed upon her sweet pale face, upon which was an expression of settled peace I could not help saying to myself again and again, ‘As a bride adorned for her husband!’ And when I remembered her dying words, ‘My Beloved is mine, and I am His,’ it did really seem as if we had only given her to the arms of Him whom her soul loved. One bright ray of sunshine fell across the darkened room, and rested like a smile upon her lips, as if to lead our thoughts away from our grief to the joys which she had found. Such was the peace pervading the household, that it could not seem like a house of mourning. There we sat around dear Alice, knowing that she was with her Beloved, where she had so often longed to be; and as the voices of the gospel messengers uttered one after another precious Scripture truths, I could almost hear her earnest voice assenting, and pressing home the subject upon our hearts, and see the still features warm into the old animation as the name of Jesus was exalted.

“I never felt so at a funeral. I have often felt the hush of peace at the Christian’s burial, but never such a sense of joy. Death was indeed swallowed up! And when we gathered around the grave at Laurel Hill, nothing could exceed the beauty of that lovely spot. Under three beautiful trees it lay, with the hills sloping down to the river in front, and rising picturesquely across the water! As we gathered round, and stood beneath the trees, the birds singing down to us from above, a solemn hush was upon us....

... “Presently the silence was broken by her brother-in-law repeating some of those lovely promises of resurrection in 1st Cor. xv. Then he gave Alice’s messages. Oh, they were so sweet, so full of the love of Jesus! Tears fell fast, not from grief, but feeling. Then followed a prayer, and as we slowly turned to leave, our hearts were filled with thanksgiving.

“Whom He called, them He also justified; and whom He justified, them He also glorified,” “that we might be to the praise of His glory.”

The following hymns were very frequently quoted, and were particularly enjoyed by Alice; and, not being found in ordinary collections, are here inserted in order that her friends may have the satisfaction of

referring to them.