AGNES’ LAST LETTER TO HER MOTHER.

Never was there a more touching, more loving, more solemn epistle written from a daughter to a mother than that which Agnes Arnold, while dying, dictated to Sister Mary to be forwarded to her mother after her death.  Sister Mary, in concluding her own letter, in which that of Agnes was enclosed, writes: 

“I assure you again, Mrs. Arnold not merely myself, but no one else here who has come in contact with your noble and self-sacrificing daughter, will ever forget her, but will ever hold her memory most dear.  No words would suffice to accurately describe the love and almost veneration with which we esteemed your sweet, departed daughter.  She was so heroic, yet so quiet and modest; she was so prompt and decisive, yet so winning and amiable; she was so devoted to religion, yet never melancholy or austere.  Ah, no! she was like God’s own bright blue sky and genial sunbeam.  Her very presence in the chamber of the sick appeared to have an instant and magnetic effect for the better.  She was God’s own dear child and handmaiden, and He has taken her home to himself.  I only hope that when I come to die, my death may be so completely beatific as your daughter’s was.

“Just before she passed into immortality she asked me to let her kiss me.  ‘Now,’ said she, ’if you ever see my dear mother, give her that kiss, and tell her she was the last one I thought of when I was dying.’  And believe me, Mrs. Arnold, I shall endeavor to fulfil your daughter’s tender request should it be the good will of God for me to escape from the pestilence which is raging around us.  Mr. Harkness’s gold watch I have placed with the Express Company, which will carry it to you for your disposal.

“Most affectionately, madam, I am ever yours,
          
                                                Mary.”

Agnes’ letter, which, as we have said, was enclosed in the above, was worded as follows: 

Shreveport, La., Oct. 2d, 1873.

My Darling, Ever Beloved Mother: 

You will notice that this letter is written by another hand than mine.  The reason you will find further on.  You will remember when I left you to come here I told you that I had resigned myself to the will of Him in whose merciful service I enlisted.

I have devoted myself to the work with my whole soul, my heart being thoroughly in the good cause.  And I believe that I have been the humble means of saving several lives.

I have not got the fever, but night before last, while nursing a child, I carelessly fell asleep—­being very much wearied—­and fell down stairs.  Thank heaven, I saved the little one’s life.  I struck the small of my back causing a fracture and some internal injury.  The doctor has done all he could for me, but it will not avail, and I must go away from you, at least on this earth.