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 unable to proceed, from a paroxysm of coughing. Suffering for years from this grievous cause, scarce knowing an hour's respite, by day or by night, no murmur ever escaped her. She was accustomed to say, "The disciple must not be above his Lord." She never uttered an impatient word or gave a hasty look. Every-day annoyances—the real trials of life, because unanticipated—the "continual dropping," which is more wearing than the violence of misfortune, were met by her with sweet serenity. She "died to self." "Her heart was a passion-flower, bearing the crown of thorns and the cross of Christ." Next to God, her heart was given to her country, and it is remarkable that her last desire in reference to it was fulfilled so literally. Civil war in the United States was apprehended and in conversation upon the subject, some time before her death, she said, earnestly, with the upward glance so habitual to her—"It is my prayer, always, that I may be in my grave before civil war begins in my country." Her last summer was spent in visiting some of her loved friends—"parting visits" they proved to be, the last and longest being made to a sister living in Harveysburg, Ohio, where she remained until her death. Few who were her companions that summer, can forget the happy expression of her face—her unusual joyousness! She seemed not to be treading on earth, but looking into heaven, watching for the "chariots of Israel and the horsemen thereof!" Their coming