Lizzie Winchester, of Cross-in-Hand, was a constant reader of the GLEANER, and of other good books, but not to the neglecting of her Bible. She was a scholar in the Sunday School at Ebenezer Chapel, Heathfield, where she was always very quiet and attentive, and she was also very fond of her teacher. When she left school, she regularly attended chapel with her sisters, sitting where she could see the school children, and would complain when she got home if she saw any that did not behave themselves properly. She had a great reverence for the house of God and for the servants of God. She had but few companions, but was much beloved for her little acts of kindness in sending to one and another small presents. Some little time before her death she sent "The Sack and its Treasure" to a young friend at Eastbourne, as a birthday present; and who can say how much real good may result from such little gifts as that? I should not think that any one could point out a flaw in her moral character. But this was not grace; and although she needed no outward reformation, yet if the heart be not changed, there can be no entering into the kingdom of God. The last time that she walked to chapel, a distance of three miles--making six miles both ways--was on August 21st. It was not then known that anything was the matter with her. First her throat was sore, and she felt poorly, but she still kept about. On Wednesday, September 14th, she was out, and gathered half a gallon of blackberries. She was up on Thursday and Friday, and put her clothes on on Saturday, but could not get down stairs. Towards night she was much worse, and it was found that her affliction was diabetes. On Sunday she was very ill, and the doctor said she could not last long. Her Sunday School teacher, Miss C----, was sent for, and when she arrived, she saw that Lizzie was sinking fast, and found that she could say but little. I am not going to set her up, and positively say she was a partaker of grace, for the very few words she uttered are not of themselves sufficient evidence for that. About five o'clock, during her mother's absence, she said, in a very low tone of voice, "I hope Jesus will heal my soul," or, "Perhaps Jesus will heal my soul." Miss C---- could not distinguish the words so as to be sure which. Early on Monday morning, the 19th of September, 1887, she died. Had she lived till the 26th, she would have been eighteen years of age. Just as she departed there was a beautiful smile came over her countenance; and as Miss C---- afterwards went with several friends to see the corpse, these words came into her mind as if some one had spoken them to her-- "Not a wave of trouble rolls Across her peaceful breast."