The touching account of the death of his companion we give in Mr. C.'s own words: "For several months past Mrs. Comstock had been blessed with unusually good health; and we had repeatedly spoken with gratitude of the goodness of God in granting us so long an exemption from sickness. We hoped, too, that we should be permitted to labor more vigorously and uninterruptedly for the good of the heathen than we had been able to do. She had just completed a Book for Mothers, which, I think, was greatly needed, and will, I trust, prove very useful. She was contemplating a work for children, and had begun to inquire for scholars to attend during the rains, just at hand. We had, too, already decided to spend a month or two early in the cold season at Cheduba, and then take a tour of a month to Ava and the villages on the way thither. Our prospects for the future appeared to be unusually encouraging; and we fondly hoped that we should be permitted to see many turning unto the Lord in Arracan. We did not, however, forget that death might destroy all our plans, and often conversed together freely on the probability that one of us might be called speedily into eternity. She had no fear of death nor any anxiety as to the time or manner of her departure, but only spoke of it as affecting our future course. "She was taken ill on Saturday, April 22. Our English doctor was then absent from Ramree; but, had he been here, we should not, probably, have thought it necessary to call him, as Mrs. C. had prescribed for many similar cases with entire success. On Monday I saw that her disease was very severe and obstinate, and asked her if I had not better call the Mussulman doctor who is left in charge here when the English one is absent. He came Tuesday morning. He prescribed for her, but wished the English doctor sent for; and I despatched a messenger for him. He arrived early on Wednesday morning, and faithfully and assiduously tried every remedy to arrest the disease, but in vain. On Friday evening, the 28th, at eight o'clock, she very suddenly expired. Occasionally there were slight symptoms of amendment; and I fondly hoped, to the very last, that she might recover. A minute or two before her death she took some nourishment, and remarked that she thought she should soon regain her strength. I trusted that it might be so, and stepped on to the veranda to say to the native Christians that there was still a little reason to hope. I heard her speak, and hastened to her just in time to see her sink back upon her pillow, and. without a struggle or even a gasp, breathe her last.