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have been miserable, in death he must be happy. I will not think him dead; I will not consider him confined in the vault, or mouldering in the dust-but risen ; clad with true glory and immortality; gone to the regions of eternal day, where he will never know the loss of parents, or of a child; gone above the reach of sorrow, vice, or pain. That little hand, which was so busy to please here, now holds a cherub's harp. That voice, which was music to my ears, warbles sweet symphonies to our universal Father, Lord, and King. Those feet, which ran to welcome me from toil, and my arms received, while I held him up, and for the blessing used to thank my God, now traverse the starry pavement of the heavens. The society of weak, impure, unhappy mortals is exchanged for that of powerful, puré, blessed spirits; and his fair brow is encircled with a never-fading crown.
Shall I then grieve that he, who is become an angel, grew not to be a man? Shall I drag him from the skies? Wish him in the vale of sorrow? I would not, my dear boy, interrupt thy bliss. It is not for thee, but for myself I weep. I speak as if he was present. And who can tell but that he sees and hears me? "Are there not ministering spirits?" And our great Milton says,
"Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth,
Unseen, both when we sleep and when we wake."
Perhaps, even now, he hovers over me with rosy wings; dictates to my heart, and guides the hand that writes.
The consideration of the sorrows of this life, and the glories of the next, is our best support. Dark are the ways of providence while we are wrapped up in mortality; but, convinced there is a God, we must hopė and believe that all is right.
May the remainder of my days be spent in a faithful discharge of the duty I owe to the supreme Disposer of all events! I am but as a pilgrim here, have trod many
rough paths, and drank many bitter cups. As my days shorten, may the Sun of righteousness brighten over me, till I arrive at the new Jerusalem, where tears are wiped away from every eye, and sorrow is no more! May I descend into the grave, from which I have lately had so many "hair-breadth 'scapes," in peace! May I meet my angel boy at the gate of death; and may his hand conduct me to the palace of eternity! These are the fervent prayers of
Your afflicted friend,
A LETTER OF REV. DR. PAYSON, WRITTEN TO HIS SISTER A SHORT TIME BEFORE HIS TRIUMPH. ANT DEATH.
Were I to adopt the figurative language of Bunyan, I might date this letter from the land of Beulah, of which I have been for some weeks a happy inhabitant. The celestial city is full in my view. Its glories beam upon me, its breezes fan me, its odours are wafted to me, its sounds strike upon my ears, and its spirit is breathed into my heart. Nothing separates me from it but the river of death, which now appears but as an insignificant rill, that may be crossed at a single step, whenever God shall give permission. The Sun of righteousness has been gradually drawing nearer and nearer, appearing larger and brighter as he approaches, and now he fills the whole hemisphere; pouring forth a flood of glory, in which I seem to float like an insect in the beams of the sun; exulting, yet almost trembling, while I gaze on this excessive brightness, and wondering with unutterable wonder why God should deign thus to shine upon a sinful worm. A single heart and a single tongue seem altogether inadequate to my wants; I want a whole heart for every separate emotion, and a whole tongue to express that emotion,
But why do I speak thus of myself and my feelings; why not speak only of our God and Redeemer? It is because I know not what to say. When I would speak of them my words are all swallowed up. I can only tell you what effects their presence produces, and even of these I can tell you but very little. O my sister, my sister! could you but know what awaits the Christian; could you know only so much as I know, you could not refrain from rejoicing, and even leaping for joy. Labours, trials, troubles, would be nothing; you would rejoice in afflictions and glory in tribulations; and, like Paul and Silas, sing God's praises in the darkest night and in the deepest dungeon. You have known a little of my trials and conflicts, and know that they have been neither few nor small; and I hope this glorious termination of them will serve to strengthen your faith, and elevate your hope.
And now, my dear, dear sister, farewell. Hold on your Christian course but a few days longer, and you will meet in heaven,
Your happy and affectionate brother,
"The chamber where the good man meets his fate,
Of virtuous life, quite on the verge of heaven."
"As the rivers roll the smoothest the nearer they ap proach the ocean, as the sun appears most glorious when setting, so it is with the Christian."-Hear his expiring language! Farewell, all terrestrial scenes! I know that my Redeemer liveth. What a happy change! Earth for heaven, time for eternity, conflict for victory, sorrow for uninterrupted joy! Into thy hands, O immortal Saviour, I commit my spirit. Thine it is to conduct me through the valley, thine to raise to glory, and thine to crown me with eternal joy.
Mr. Haliburton, when dying, thus addressed those around him :- -"Here is a demonstration of the reality and power of faith and godliness. I, a poor, weak, and timorous man, once as much afraid of death as any one; I, who was many years under the terrors of death, came, in the mercy of God, and by the power of his grace, composedly and with joy to look death in the face. I have seen it in its paleness, and all the circumstances of horror that attend it. I dare look it in the face in its most ghastly shape, and hope to have, in a little time, the victory over it. Glory, glory to him!— O what of God do I see! I have never seen any thing like it. The beginning and end of religion are wonderfully sweet! I long for his salvation, I bless his name! I have found him! I am taken up in blessing him! I am dying, rejoicing in the Lord! O, I could not have believed that I should bear, and bear cheerfully as I have done, this rod which hath lain on me so long. This is a miracle, Pain without pain!
You see man dying, a monument of the glorious power of astonishing grace!"-Some time after, he said,"When I shall be so weakened as not to be able to speak, I will give you, if I can, a sign of triumph when I am near to glory.”—This he did: for when one said, "I hope you are encouraging yourself in the Lord," not being able to speak, he lifted up his hands, clapped them, and quickly after expired.
Mrs. Frederica Hayne in her illness, gave certain evidence of her unshaken faith in Christ, her assurance of an interest in the Redeemer, and her firm hope of eternal life. She told her physician, "it was for her children's sake she consulted; for her own part, she was quite ready to depart: death to her was nothing more than a transition from one apartment to another." A short period before her triumphant departure, she repeated, with a peculiar emphasis, the beautiful explanation of the second of faith by Luther, and with these words her happy spirit departed to another world, there to see His face" of whom the whole family of heaven and earth is named."
Jeremiah Evarts in the near prospect of death showed a most happy tranquillity. He had that peace of God which passeth all understanding. Who would not think himself rewarded for the toils and sufferings of a whole life, yea, of a thousand years, by what this faithful servant of God was permitted to enjoy just be-fore his decease, when God caused so wonderful a light to shine upon his soul. Seeming to be nearly exhausted, he very tenderly expressed his affection for his Saviour. Soon after, he burst forth with expressions of rapture which cannot be described. "Praise him, praise him, praise him in a way which you know not of." And when it was said, "You will soon see Jesus as he is, and will then know how to praise him," he exclaimed," Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful glory! We cannot comprehend! Wonderful glory! I will