We come now to the time when the clouds gathered heavily over the happy family, and its sweet light went out in darkness. My mother had not been in her usual good health during the summer, and had been at times a little low-spirited. On Monday, July 19, 1848, my father went on a short business trip to Boston, and returning found my mother quite poorly. On Friday she felt decidedly ill and asked Lucinda to remain at home to assist her, which she gladly did. That evening my father, who was suffering from severe headache, asked my mother to offer prayer at the evening worship, as she often did, and Lucinda, whose recollection of those scenes was very vivid, describes it as one of the most remarkable prayers she ever heard. The mother's whole soul seemed drawn out in special pleading for her children, that God would make them His own, and would care for them if she was taken away from them. On Saturday she was much worse, and on Sunday her condition was very alarming. The disease having developed as malignant erysipelas, one of the most experienced and skilful physicians from Hartford was called, a good nurse put in charge, and all that human skill could do was done to save the life so precious to us all. But all in vain. It became evident during Monday night that the end was near, and toward morning the family were gathered at her bedside for the last farewell. She called each separately, and commended them to God with her dying blessing. Little Julia, only three years old, was in my father's arms, too young to realize the sad parting. My mother asked, "Where is my little Annie?" My father lifted her and she laid her hand on Annie's head, but could not speak. My brother Joseph, always impulsive and warm-hearted, burst into tears, and begged forgiveness for any trouble he might have caused her. She spoke words of comfort to him and sank back exhausted. My father asked her, "Is all well?" She answered, "All is well. It is well with my soul." And so in the morning of July 27, 1848, at 6 A. M., gently and peacefully passed away one of the purest and sweetest spirits that ever brightened this dark world. Her lifework was finished, and she "entered into the joy of her Lord."