away my shield; but the Lord has stood by me, and I believe I shall come off more than conqueror.’—­About two o’clock we thought she was dying; she stretched out her hand to each of us, and drew us near, to kiss her; then shouted as loud as she could, ’Glory be to God!  I am going to glory; glory be to God!’ About five she revived again.  One said, ’Jesus is near,’ she responded, ’Glory, He is, He is’—­I was with her from two in the morning; she was restless, and in much pain, until about nine o’clock; when she changed for death.  Conscious that she was dying, she desired to be placed in a chair, and shouted with all the strength she had, indeed louder than we could have supposed her capable of, ’Glory be to God!’ ‘Glory be to God!’ many times, until her strength was exhausted.  She breathed till eleven, and then, without moving hand or foot; without a sigh or a groan; her happy spirit took its flight to the paradise of God.  Thus died Elizabeth Stables, in the thirty-fifth year of her age.  It had been for some time my prayer, that the Lord, if it pleased Him, would grant her an easy passage, and permit her to depart in the day-time.  In this He has mercifully heard me.  Before the crisis arrived, I felt a degree of timidity; and therefore, when I rose from my bed, I bowed myself before the Lord, before entering the room.  He graciously dispersed my fears, and filled my heart with peace.  To me the scene of dissolution was exceedingly solemn.  May my last end be like hers!—­I followed the remains of dear Elizabeth to the grave, to which we consigned them ’in sure and certain hope of a joyful resurrection.’  Surely this hope has preserved me from yielding to useless tears, as on former occasions;—­for I loved her.  Henceforth may it be my constant study to be found ready, that, like her, I may triumph in the prospect of dissolution.—­Visited two or three afflicted persons in the village, perhaps for the last time:  may I find them all again in the day of eternity.  Took tea with Mrs. B. and her daughter, whom I would gladly have persuaded to accept the offers of mercy; but the grace of God alone can affect the heart.—­After an absence of six weeks I returned home:  the day was fine.  Truly mercy follows me.  Through courtesy to a friend, I wounded my own soul by yielding to converse on subjects, which no way tended to promote fervency of spirit.  I felt humbled in consequence, and as if I could not lift my heart to God; but before the close of the service, which I afterwards attended, the Lord graciously softened my hardness down—­melting me into tears.—­I close the year fully bent upon giving myself to God.  While I write, I enjoy peace.  O Thou that seest me, Thyself unseen, direct my pen, and guide me to Thyself.  Here on my knees I surrender myself to Thee; if Thou discoverest any guile in me, reveal it to me, and make me wholly thine.  Surrounded with Thy presence, O fill me with Thy love!  From henceforth, may I dwell in the secret place of the most High, and abide under the shadow of the Almighty.