Before I left my room for hers, there came to my mind these words—­“But now, thus saith the Lord that created thee, O Jacob, and he that formed thee, O Israel, Fear not, for I have redeemed thee; I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine.  When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.”  Trusting in that promise, I sat down, as it were, over against the sepulchre, to prepare my child for her entrance into it,—­nay, for her departure into heaven.

The gradual arrival of the truth to her apprehension, through questions which she began to ask, and my answers to them, finally led her to inquire if I supposed she could not live long.  I told her that the physician thought that she was extremely weak, and that we must not be surprised at any sudden event in her case.  She said, without any change of countenance, “Why, father, you surprise me; I thought that I might get well; is it possible that I cannot live long?  I have thought of recovering much more than of dying...  It seems a long space to pass over between this and heaven, in so short a time.  I wonder how I can so suddenly obtain all the feelings which I need for such a change.”  These expressions I wrote down immediately after the interview.  I told her, in reply, that she had been living at peace with God through his Son; that it had hitherto been her duty to live, and to strive for it; but now God had indicated his will concerning her, and she might be sure that God will always give us feelings suited to every condition in which he sees fit to place us.

On seeing her again towards evening, I found that the expression of her sick face—­the weary, exhausted look of one grappling with a stronger power—­had passed away, and, in exchange, there was peace, and even happiness.  She began herself to say, “When you told me this forenoon that I could not live, it surprised me; but I have come to it now, and it is all right.  Every thing is settled.  I have nothing to do—­no fear, no anxiety about any thing.  More passages of Scripture and verses of hymns have come to my mind to-day, than in all my sickness hitherto.”  Wishes respecting some family arrangements were then expressed, particularly with reference to the younger children, and these wishes were uttered in about the same tone and manner as though we were parting for a temporary absence from each other.  The mother of my youngest child had, at her death, given her in special charge to this daughter, and she wished to live that she might educate her.  She made the transfer of her little trust with calmness, and then her “Good night” was uttered with a gentle playfulness, like that of her early days.