On November 26th, being her eldest sister's birthday, she wished us to get a card for her. One being selected with the words, "The Lord will bless His people with peace," she said, "Yes, that is the peace Mr. Hull spoke of at St. Ives, and God has given me that peace." In presenting the card, she said to her sister, "Take it from me. It will be the last present I shall give you on your birthday. Before another I shall be in heaven. "Yes, I shall soon be landed On yonder shores of bliss; There, with my powers expanded, Shall dwell where Jesus is." During the night she remarked, "How good Jesus is in taking me away so gently! I thought, after all I have done and said, I should suffer much more. My sufferings are nothing to what Christ suffered on the cross." The next day Mr. Oldfield came, and she wished him to read Psalm ciii.--"Bless the Lord, O my soul"--and the hymn commencing, "My hope is built on nothing less." He commented on the last verse, and spoke of the robe prepared for her, and the glory that awaited her in heaven. On Monday, November 28th, with deep feeling, she said-- "E'er since by faith I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply, Redeeming love has been my theme, And shall be till I die." One day, her doctor said he thought her a little better. When she was told, she burst into tears, and said, "Oh, I do not want to get better! Dear Jesus, do come and take me! "Weary of earth, myself, and sin, Dear Jesus, set me free! And to Thy glory take me in, For there I long to be." Another time she said, "I think I shall soon reach my journey's end now. Won't it be nice when my last day comes? I did not think I should be taken first, but I do now. I wonder who will be the next? Jesus knows. I should like to have on my tombstone, 'To depart and be with Christ is far better,' and I hope Mr. Oldfield will bury me; but it little matters about my body. I shall be singing in heaven when they are putting my poor body in the grave." The last time Mr. Oldfield visited her she could say but very little to him, her cough being so incessant. He read Psalms cxv. and cxvi., and remarked, "The heathen have no God to cry to in their affliction, but you have. What a mercy! "When your poor, lisping, stammering tongue Lies silent in the grave, Then, in a nobler, sweeter song, You'll sing His power to save. "You have had a foretaste of heaven here, haven't you?" She answered, "Yes, I have." At times her sufferings seemed more than she knew how to bear, and caused her to become impatient; but afterwards she would express much sorrow for it, and beg earnestly of the Lord to forgive her, and enable her to bear all He should see fit to lay upon her, adding, "My sufferings are nothing to what Christ suffered." On Sunday, December 18th, she said but little during the day, but in the evening she wished the hundredth Psalm to be read, and the hymn, "Oh, bless the Lord, my soul."