"My children," she said, "my firmest hopes of future happiness were placed on the prospect of your union.

This expectation will now be the consolation of your father.

Elizabeth, my love, you must supply my place to my younger children.

Alas! I regret that I am taken from you; and, happy and beloved as I have been, is it not hard to quit you all?
But these are not thoughts befitting me; I will endeavour to resign myself cheerfully to death and will indulge a hope of meeting you in another world." She died calmly, and her countenance expressed affection even in death.
I need not describe the feelings of those whose dearest ties are rent by that most irreparable evil, the void that presents itself to the soul, and the despair that is exhibited on the countenance.

It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she whom we saw every day and whose very existence appeared a part of our own can have departed forever--that the brightness of a beloved eye can have been extinguished and the sound of a voice so familiar and dear to the ear can be hushed, never more to be heard.