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"Well, Rosalie, it is a comfort to have a higher wisdom than our own to depend upon! that's what my own dear mother used often to say to me, and the very day she died—I never can forget that!—she put her hand upon my head, and said 'Remember, my Jennie, God is to be all your wisdom and strength, all your wisdom and strength.'"
Poor child! in her own strength what perfect weakness; even while repeating the word she sunk into a calm and peaceful slumber, and this weary world, with its burden of sorrows and woes, faded away from her mental vision also, giving place to hopeful and cheering dreams. Madame La Blanche entered the room, as was her custom before retiring to her own couch, and as she looked upon the gentle sleepers before her, and contrasted them with the pitiable ones who, perchance were even then wakeful and sinning, her heart went up toward the Dispenser of all blessings, in earnest supplication that the objects of her love might be ever preserved unblemished in purity, and those of her compassion be brought from their blackness and stain unto the fountain of all goodness and cleansing.