hands, and to have him dispose of us as he pleases. My trembling head at times anticipates evil to my dear husband—and my selfish heart, in anticipating the days and nights of loneliness that await me, is ready to say,—'How can I give thee up?' But I would not dare to cherish these feelings. God has an entire right to do with us as he pleases—and I would love him for doing just as he does. But O! strengthen us for our coming trials!"

NOTE.

Mrs. Storrs had been for months declining in health—a fact more evident to herself than to others, because she still continued to discharge her usual domestic duties with alacrity and cheerfulness. But often, the conviction of her mind on this subject extorted from her the remark—"my constitution is breaking up—I cannot long live." Though the remark had never fallen from her lips in other years, it was too little heeded by her friends.

It was on the evening of March 5th, 1834, that she was suddenly seized with a delirium that indicated inflammation on the brain. A physician was immediately called, and his skilful applications seemed to be blessed; the disease yielded; and after a few days, Reason resumed its seat; not however to hold it as formerly, but only to sway a broken sceptre, and fill the minds of friends with constant alarms. From this time till the first of June, the struggle between disease and nature was constant, and the issue doubtful; but on the whole, it was evident that the mind was losing its power of judgment, and submitting to the control of a bewildered imagination.

Her most judicious friends judged it expedient to change the scene, and try the effect of new objects and the revival of old friendships on her disordered system. She herself, having been often benefitted by the fatigues and various occurrences of journeying, consented to the measure with some cheerfulness. And on the 12th of June, we left our home, and leisurely pursued our way to the western part of the State, calling freely on those friends she had long known and loved, and sharing largely in their kind attentions. But nothing could restore to her mind its balance. Occasionally cheerful for an hour—but habitually brooding over some imagined impropriety of conduct, or deficiency of faith and love, she fancied herself a burden to the world, a curse to the church, and an alien from God. It was July 7th when we reached home. And by this time, the disease had advanced so far, as to leave but short intervals between the ravings of delirium. Her agonies, in her oft repeated language, were "inexpressible." Her bodings were fearful. And it was on the morning of the 10th instant, between the hours of five and six o'clock, that she eluded the long continued vigilance of her family, and secured time enough to execute a deed, which of all others she most abhorred when of sane mind—a deed, which she believed to be right, because dethroned reason left her a prey to the imagination that the honor of God, and the interests of Zion demanded it.

Inscrutable mystery! A more devoted friend of Jesus—a more humble and self-denying disciple—a more laborious and consistent co-worker with the saints—a more prayerful and active promoter of the great Cause of Benevolence—is rarely to be met with in any age, or in any land.

Aside of all the fond partialities of one who for fifteen years has known the blessedness of the most intimate companionship with so eminent a child of God, I deem it duty to say, in present circumstances, that her duties were always her pleasures—her religious privileges, her sweetest delights—her grand aim, in all things, the glory of God;—her trust was reposed in his promises alone—her hopes were founded on Christ—and her only desired reward was, the consciousness