There was much written on her countenance.

She had evidently died with a smile.

It still remained, and spoke the tranquillity of her soul.

According to the custom of the country, she was decorated with leaves and flowers in the coffin: she seemed as a bride gone forth to meet the bridegroom.

These, indeed, were fading flowers, but they reminded me of that paradise whose flowers are immortal, and where her never-dying soul is at rest.
I remembered the last words which I had heard her speak, and was instantly struck with the happy thought that "death was indeed swallowed up in victory." As I slowly retired, I said inwardly, "Peace, my honoured sister, be to _thy_ memory and to _my_ soul, till we meet in a better world." In a little time, the procession formed: it was rendered the more interesting by the consideration of so many that followed the coffin being persons of a devout and spiritual character.