But how? Only through Christ, wilt Thou exalt the riches of Thy mercy by preparing this poor sinner's heart, and snatching him as a brand from the burning.--Visited the poor man again, and came home thankful, that I had the opportunity to do it. He now resolves on the side of virtue. Oh! that his decision may be sustained by the strength of the Lord!--Cousin was oppressed with sickness during the night, but her cry was; 'Help me to suffer as a Christian.'--When I asked how she was, she said, 'I have had a sweet night-so many precious promises brought to my mind. Praise the Lord; 'to them that believe, He is precious.'--Much worse, able to say little. In the evening she desired me to pray; it was truly a blessed season. When I rose, she exclaimed: 'We'll shout by turns the bursting joy, And all eternity employ In songs around the throne!' 'Glory be to God, cousin, we shall; yes, we shall.'--This morning I awoke a little before three, and got upon my knees. He, who slumbers not, was present to bless me. At ten I accompanied my friends to chapel: a blessed sermon! I was so much affected while Mr. C. was speaking of the Lord's ability to deliver us from our spiritual foes, that I could do nothing but weep for joy. My enemies seemed all vanquished, by the revelation which my faith realized of the power of God. 'Faith, mighty faith, the promise' _saw_. O may I never doubt again. I feel all peace, and tranquility, but no particular joy: I perceive myself nothing; but through the blood of Jesus, I claim salvation. Elizabeth is increasingly weak, but enjoys great peace. She was unable to turn herself; but after an ineffectual attempt, upheld by the power of God, she exclaimed, 'Praise the Lord! I _cannot_ praise Him enough: though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.' This evening I overheard, 'Precious God,' 'Salvation,' 'My Jesus.' Then turning her head, she said, 'Since I have been afflicted, the enemy has tried many ways to take away my shield; but the Lord has stood by me, and I believe I shall come off more than conqueror.'--About two o'clock we thought she was dying; she stretched out her hand to each of us, and drew us near, to kiss her; then shouted as loud as she could, 'Glory be to God! I am going to glory; glory be to God!' About five she revived again. One said, 'Jesus is near,' she responded, 'Glory, He is, He is'--I was with her from two in the morning; she was restless, and in much pain, until about nine o'clock; when she changed for death. Conscious that she was dying, she desired to be placed in a chair, and shouted with all the strength she had, indeed louder than we could have supposed her capable of, 'Glory be to God!' 'Glory be to God!' many times, until her strength was exhausted. She breathed till eleven, and then, without moving hand or foot; without a sigh or a groan; her happy spirit took its flight to the paradise of God. Thus died Elizabeth Stables, in the thirty-fifth year of her age.