She spoke to those around her in a striking manner on the unsatisfying nature of all things here.  “Oh, they are nothing—­less than nothing and vanity—­nothing to me now;” earnestly encouraging all to prepare for heaven—­to serve the Lord; quoting very fervently and beautifully our Saviour’s words, “’I ascend unto my Father and your Father, unto my God and your God.’ * * Upwards! upwards! upwards!—­I hope we may all meet in glory.”

A short time afterwards, appearing a little discouraged, she asked, “Do you feel assured for me? can you trust for me?” And on being told that we felt no doubt, her diffident mind seemed comforted; “but,” she added, “I want assurance:  I hope; but I don’t feel sure—­I do hope in Christ.”  The text was repeated, “’Lord, I believe:  help thou mine unbelief.’” She was reminded that He died for all.  She rejoined, “Then for me; but I have nothing of my own—­not a thing to trust in, only in the mercy of God.  I don’t feel any burden of sin—­only of neglect.  I hope it is not a false peace.  Do you think it is?” Her aunt repeated, “’Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.’” “Oh, precious!” she exclaimed:  “though He hideth His face, yet will I trust in the Lord; I will trust in the Lord, for He is faithful—­faithful—­faithful!  I have a humble trust, but no rapture.  But I don’t feel sure that I shall die now; I cannot see how it may be.”  Again and again were her eyes turned to heaven in earnest prayer, “If I die, oh, receive me to Thyself.”

Throughout her illness a holy feeling of serenity and love pervaded the sick-chamber:  she affectionately acknowledged every little attention, and frequently expressed a fear of giving trouble, saying, one night, “What won’t any one do for love?”

No expression of regret escaped her lips at leaving her earthly prospects.  Her possessions in this world were loosely held, and therefore easily relinquished for those enduring treasures which had long had the highest place in her heart.

Her heart overflowed with love to all around her, saying, “All is love;” and many were the messages she sent to her absent relatives and friends.  “Give my dear love to father and mother:  tell them how glad I should have been to have seen them; but how glad I am mother was not here!  I know she could not have borne it.  Tell them how thankful I am they brought me up for heaven.  Tell them, not raptures, but peace.  Tell them not to grieve, not to grieve, not to grieve!  Tell them how happy I have been here; that I wanted for nothing.”  To her sisters, “All love—­nothing but love;” adding that she might have had much more to say, had she been able, “but I must not; I must be quiet.”