This morning, when asked how she was, she replied, 'This has been a precious night; the Lord has promised me, He will be with me to the end.' Her cough was very troublesome, but she said, 'I feel no disposition to murmur, but I cannot help moaning. The Lord is very precious.' Part of the day she lay greatly composed, with her hands clasped. On entering the room she accosted me with: 'I am hard toiling to make the blest shore. I have been much harassed by the enemy, who tells me I shall be cast away; but I rest on the blood and righteousness of Christ: I have nothing else to trust in.' After a severe fit of coughing she said, 'The toil of life will there be o'er:' and again, 'Thankful I take the cup from Thee,' &c. In the afternoon I visited old Martha H., whom I found in a happy, and thankful frame of mind; all her cry is, 'Bless the Lord! bless the Lord!' So, at both ends of the village, God is fitting up His jewels. I walked on to the churchyard, and there found as many of my old acquaintances, as are now living in the village. I felt the solemn influence of association with the dead.--Hearing of a poor afflicted sinner, I went to see him; he appeared to welcome my visit, but insensible to his condition. During the night I could not sleep, but got upon my knees, and earnestly besought the Lord to give me a clear witness of His sanctifying power. He blessed me with a humble, settled confidence, and sweet peace.--Cousin had a restless night; the enemy was again permitted to try her sorely; but during the day, she was enabled to tread him down under her feet. 'I'll trust Him with my all,' she said, 'I'll trust Him with my all.'--The poor man above-mentioned, sent for me, apparently in an agony for the salvation of his soul; but whether it is the fear of death and its consequences, or sorrow for his sin, how difficult to determine! I endeavoured to show him that he was a helpless, undone sinner; and that all his hope was in the merits of Christ: staid with him nearly two hours, during which he seemed earnestly seeking mercy. I saw him again in the afternoon, but he was not in such agony. He thinks the Lord will not cast him off. The thought of the dying thief, alone, gives me room to hope. Oh! would'st Thou, Lord, the veil remove, And manifest Thy pardoning love.