"Be faithful till the Master calls!" then grasping the hands
reached out to hers, she was gone--gone from a finite life into
heavenly rest!

One or two other items I must note. In looking over my father's
papers, I find that he kept a private diary (which forms a part of
the contents of this work) of the texts and sermons he heard on the
Sabbath, from the year 1858, to the Sabbath before he died, and
much significance is given to one he heard you preach from the Book
of Jude, 23d verse: "Hating even a garment spotted by the flesh." I
feel confident that he grew in grace under the Word of Life
conveyed to him by you, and assisted by a close study of his own
Bible. In his usual course of reading the Scriptures, he read on
the day he was taken sick the 20th Psalm, though not permitted
again to drink from the same fountain of Eternal Life, for he was
going, unconsciously, to realize the efficacy of the 21st Psalm--a
favorite with him--and to receive the crown of gold and life
everlasting.

The general remarks of the outside world at the time fostered great
interest in the fact of such peaceful "goings" from earth to heaven
of two such worthy Christians, at dates so close to each other.

Neither of them feared death. Both had lived and worked in harmony
for the same great end.

Both to be ultimately called up higher in one week and two hours of
each other.

WILLIAM KNOWLES.

I desire to supplement the foregoing account of the "Last Hours," by
stating that when we reached the house of sickness and death, we found
her son reading that precious portion of God's Word, the 14th chapter
of St. John's Gospel, "Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in
God, believe also in me. In my father's house are many mansions; if it
were not so I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you,"
etc. The scene was deeply affecting. Loved ones were gathered around
the bedside.

After reading the Scriptures, and prayer, we united in singing that
well known hymn,

Jesus, lover of my soul,
Let me to Thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll,
While the tempest still is high,
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,
Till the storm of life be past;
Safe into the haven guide;
O receive my soul at last!

The dying missionary endeavored to join in the singing though extremely
faint, and life's latest