But over her face, though pale, sunk, and hollow, the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, had cast a triumphant calm.
The soldier, after a short pause, silently reached out his Bible towards me, pointing with his finger at 1 Cor.xv.55, 56, 57.

I then broke silence by reading the passage, "O death, where is thy sting?
O grave, where is thy victory?
The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law.

But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." At the sound of these words her eyes opened, and something like a ray of divine light beamed on her countenance as she said, "Victory! victory! through our Lord Jesus Christ." She relapsed again, taking no further notice of any one present.
"God be praised for the triumph of faith!" said I.
"Amen!" replied the soldier.
The Dairyman's uplifted eye showed that the Amen was in his heart, though his tongue failed to utter it.
A short struggling for breath took place in the dying young woman, which was soon over; and then I said to her,-- "My dear friend, do you not feel that you are supported ?" "The Lord deals very gently with me," she replied.
"Are not his promises now very precious to you ?" "They are all yea and amen in Christ Jesus." "Are you in much bodily pain ?" "So little that I almost forget it." "How good the Lord is!" "And how unworthy am I!" "You are going to see him as he is." "I think--I hope--I believe that I am." She again fell into a short slumber.
Looking at her mother, I said, "What a mercy to have a child so near heaven as yours is!" "And what a mercy," she replied, in broken accents, "if her poor old mother might but follow her there! But, sir, it is so hard to part!" "I hope through grace by faith you will soon meet to part no more; it will be but a little while." "Sir," said the Dairyman, "that thought supports me, and the Lord's goodness makes me feel more reconciled than I was." "Father--mother," said the reviving daughter, "He is good to me--trust Him, praise Him evermore." "Sir," added she, in a faint voice, "I want to thank you for your kindness to me--I want to ask a favour;--you buried my sister--will you do the same for me ?" "All shall be as you wish, if God permit," I replied.
"Thank you, sir, thank you--I have another favour to ask--When I am gone, remember my father and mother.

They are old, but I hope the good work is begun in their souls--My prayers are heard--Pray come and see them--I cannot speak much, but I want to speak for their sakes--Sir, remember them." The aged parents now sighed and sobbed aloud, uttering broken sentences, and gained some relief by such an expression of their feelings.
At length I said to Elizabeth, "Do you experience any doubts or temptations on the subject of your eternal safety ?" "No, sir.

The Lord deals very gently with me, and gives me peace." "What are your views of the dark valley of death, now that you are passing through it ?" "It is _not_ dark." "Why so ?" "My Lord is _there_, and he is my light and my salvation." "Have you any fears of more bodily suffering ?" "The Lord deals so gently with me, I can trust him." Something of a convulsion came on.