shall range the blest fields together, and on the banks | calmly remarked, "I know not that I shall be allowed of the river shout halleluiah for ever and ever. O the privilege of speaking in my last moments, but I what a blessed thing to be free from all suffering and sorrow; and best of all, to see Jesus as he is, and praise him as we ought." Wednesday 23d, she spoke of feeling discouraged, lest under affliction so severe and protracted she might become impatient and lose her fortitude, though we saw no indication of it, and if we had, knowing how much she endured, it would not have surprised us at all; but next evening, while a pious and favorite sister conversed and prayed with her, she felt relieved in mind, and spoke to this effect: "I feel now somewhat encouraged. Thank the Lord for a little reviving. Jesus is the sinner's friend. He was made perfect through suffering. He has supported me in my affliction, and he can support me to the end. All I ask is triumph in death, and trust he will give it to me. I can give up the world; yea, and my family, for though they will feel lonely after I leave them, the Lord can provide for and comfort them. I should rejoice to be released at any moment, even this night, if it is the will of God; but I will try to wait patiently his time, and then O the heaven of rest where there is no more suffering." wish it understood that I am perfectly safe, that God does and will accept me, not for any worthiness of my own, but for Christ's sake, and will save me with an everlasting salvation in heaven." She then called her husband to her, and with many expressions of love and gratitude for his uniform kindness, and especially for waiting on her so faithfully and cheerfully in her sickness, took leave of him, adding her blessing upon and commending him to God. Next she called her father, and spoke to him in like manner. Then her mother-in-law, pouring out a full heart of grateful affection upon her, and then another sister whom she loved much, giving to each such blessings and words of encouragement as suited our respective cases. Amid the sobs and tears of that solemn and moving occasion, the sufferer was the only one who appeared to be perfectly self-possessed, requesting us several times not to weep for her, as we should soon meet again, where all tears are wiped away. She then proceeded to name her little children and all the absent members of the two families, prayed for and pronounced a blessing upon them severally; and added, "Give my love to all my friends, and tell them The next Saturday evening she said to us, "I rest I am gone to heaven." Next she spoke of her funeral in the hands of God. I should be thankful to him with great composure and deep humility, and said, "I if he would release me, but I wait his time." She wish no display, only a plain little funeral here at the then prayed most fervently for some two minutes house; and let brother Young (her own pastor) make sufficiently loud to be distinctly heard by all in the a few remarks as he may think proper." She then room. In that prayer, the blood of Christ was made subjoined, "My work is done; I have nothing more the sole ground of her confidence in the mercy but to wait the will of God. Lord Jesus receive my of God; and the tenor of the petition was for full spirit." But after a short pause, she again recolsanctification, and supporting grace to the end. lected her absent brother, and made his a special case. Addressing herself to me, she said, "Be sure to send a great deal of love to my dear brother, and tell him his sister is gone to heaven, and hopes to meet him there. Tell him I know there is a blest reality in religion, for it has sustained me under all my sufferings, and now cheers me in death. I should be glad to see him once more in the flesh, but trust I shall see him in a better world." Sabbath morning 27th, there appeared to be a general inflammation of the interior of the chest, attended with extreme pain, and such a diseased state of the throat, as to prevent her receiving any nourishment, or even cold water, and threatened speedy dissolution. In this extremity, she exclaimed, "Bless the Lord, I feel that I have nothing to fear; if I die this day all will be well with me, and I can cheerfully give up my family into his hands." During the day she said to About five o'clock that evening she passed through her mother-in-law, "This is the last Sabbath I shall another extreme paroxysm of coughing and strangling, spend on earth, but I shall soon enjoy a Sabbath that in which we fully expected she would expire; but at never ends. Yes, mother and I am not going to a last she revived so as to speak, and said, "Jesus is with land of strangers;" and then named many of her me! Jesus is with me! Jesus is with me! Death has departed friends whom she expected to meet, including no sting-the grave has no victory! I have the vicher own mother and infant son. Most of the day she tory through Jesus Christ, and I view the grave as a was under the influence of langor and drowsiness; but sweet resting place for my body, while my blood-washwhen a particular friend called to see her in the after-ed soul will rest in paradise!" After she was componoon, she roused up a little, and said to her, "Sweet sed, she addressed her husband, of whose class she was heaven, my happy home, I shall soon be there." A pleasant smile came over her emaciated countenance; she raised her hand and exclaimed, "Then I shall be free." On Monday, she had several paroxysms of strangulation, in which we thought her in immediate danger of dying. While we were silently waiting the next paroxysm to come and hurry her into eternity, she a member, and said, "Dont forget to tell my classmates farewell! and tell them, though I cannot be permitted to meet with them again in this world, I hope to meet them all in a better!" Her ill turns continued at irregular intervals through that night and the next day. In an unusually severe paroxysm, which occurred on Tuesday evening about five o'clock, she appeared to be beyond all hope of living through it, and the family were called in to wit- My treasure and my heart are there And my abiding home; For me my elder brethren stay, And Jesus bids me come." Original. THE VICTIM. "Sweet are the uses of adversity." In the autumn of 1839 I traveled with some friends through the whole length of the beautiful valley of the Connecticut river. The summer had passed away, but the weather was still delightful; and with the exception of here and there a discolored tree upon the high-lands, like the first gray hairs upon the brow of beauty, denoting the approach of the dying year, the landscape still wore the luxuriance and freshness of summer. Of the scenery presented to the eye of the traveler in this region I scarcely need speak, as all who have visited it agree that our country possesses nothing to surpass it, in quiet picturesque beauty. The longest and hardest struggle of the kind occurred the same evening at half past six o'clock, and continued till we really believed her spirit was in the act of departing, in so much that when she finally recovered, it appeared similar to a resurrection from the dead. If it were in my power to give the reader a just idea of that agonizing and heart-rending scene, I would not inflict it upon him; and if it were practicable, would obliterate the recollection of it from my own mind. At the commencement of each of these attacks, she expected her release, and with much apparent reluctance returned again to life, praying most earnestly to be set free. Indeed, her disappointment in not obtaining her final deliverance when expected, was the most difficult thing to be reconciled to that occurred during her whole affliction; but grace was afforded to secure the victory even over this. At one time she remarked, "You thought I should have got home before now, but I feared the news was too good to be true. However, I must wait patiently the Lord's time." || of common life-their moral courage in always speakAgain she referred to the subject in these words, "I will not calculate as to the time of my departure, but wait the days of my appointed time. I would be the Lord's every minute, living or dying." The last named paroxysm so prostrated her strength and was followed by such languor, that she was never after able to hold a regular conversation, though she lingered till next morning, Wednesday, November 30th, at a quarter past eight o'clock, speaking a few words occasionally of her friends and of the goodness of God, and frequently repeating the prayer, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit!" but the bitterness of death was passed. Though she had suffered long and much, God, in great mercy, granted her oft-repeated request at last, for a quick and easy passage over the Jordan of death. Less than two minutes before her exit, she spoke rationally and distinctly; and then, without a single groan, or any distortion of the features, or any struggle whatever, calmly and sweetly slept in Jesus. LOVE TO CHRIST. Some of the fairest choirs above, Shall flock around my song, With joy to hear the name they love The villages along the river are frequent, and not only well built, but some of them so beautiful in their locations, the porticos of their neat-looking dwellings so tastefully decorated with the scarlet-creeper and honey-suckle, that they seem to impart the idea of the voluntary retirement of the learned and refined, rather than the seclusion of a simple village community. Many years had elapsed since I had resorted to one of these sequestered hamlets for health, and had learned to love the people for those very peculiarities for which they are so frequently laughed at; namely, their mathematical precision and decision in matters ing the very truth, where modern refinement would prescribe the substitution of the "white lie;" and most of all, for that practical religious philosophy which induces them (all alike, rich and poor) to "train up their children in the way they should go," and to demand obedience. In fact, I loved them for every thing except the remaining tinge of their "Blue Laws;" for there were at that time some still living in their midst, who, where these were infringed, spared not, but in their righteous indignation, with more than Puritanical sternness, would cut off the offender, even were he an only child. They strove to be just, but they forgot to be merciful. A case somewhat of this kind occurred while I was resident amongst them, which is treasured amid the regretful, sad, and interesting memories of my youth; and as I believe all of the immediate parties are now dead, I shall make it (withholding family names) the subject of the following sketch. Hester L- was the eldest unmarried daughter of one of the most respectable families in the village of H--. She was a sweet, modest girl, with a soft voice, a pensive countenance, and a kind, benevolent heart; and to these was added the most child-like simplicity of manners that I have ever known. She was hardly seventeen years of age when I first knew her, and yet she was full of good works. She taught a class in the Sabbath school, was a member of several benevolent societies; like Dorcas, she made garments for the poor, and was a zealous Christian. She was beloved by all, as well might she be, who wished evil to none. Young THE VICTIM. as she was at this time, she was betrothed to a young man of the village, who, like herself, was of a highly respectable family, and without property. 21 appointed time; and it so chanced that the other female did not attend. Before the family retired for the night, they all Perhaps there is no part of the world where matches united in worship, and then the watchers were left are made with such perfect disinterestedness as in with the dead. Hester regretted that she had no New England-with only here and there an excep- female companion; but the deacon was a staid tion, to prove the rule, and to excite comment. It bachelor of forty, and the office he held in the matters not that the lover be as rich as Croesus if the Church, together with the solemn occasion that called lady's taste is not suited; and it scarcely matters how them there, seemed to give an assurance for the poor he is, if it be. There poverty seldom hinders an observance of all proprieties; and she felt inwardly engagement, though it protracts it, and often postpones rebuked for having any unpleasant feelings on the the marriage, sometimes for five, six, or more years-subject. all this time the parties are separated, and excepting After a little appropriate conversation, she withdrew an occasional visit at home, the young man is out in to a table on which the lights were placed, and openthe busy world enterprising a competency. The lady ing a book provided for the occasion, soon became so is with her parents the acknowledged bride elect in lost in its contents as to forget her loneliness entirely. society, and treated and respected accordingly. Hav- She had been engaged in reading she thought an hour ing at last accomplished his object, the young man or more, when she was aroused from her abstraction returns rejoicing to claim her as his wife. These are by a motion at the back of her chair, and as she not only the most frequent, but the happiest matches impulsively turned her head, the deacon leaned over, that occur amongst the New Englanders; and there is its back and kissed her. good reason why they should be so-they are founded in sentiment, and strengthened by principle. My southern readers will perhaps smile incredulously at all this, where the usage is so diametrically opposite, that it is often said of them they "marry first, and get acquainted afterwards." The extremes are equally faulty; but it is nevertheless true of our New Eng land couple, as well as some other customs still more strange, one of which I shall have occasion to mention as connected with my narrative. It may have since been abolished, but it existed at that time, and relates to the wake over their dead. When a death took place in the community, it was announced to the public by the tolling of the bell; the number of strokes indicating the age; then if a pause, and one stroke only followed, it was a male; if two were sounded, a female; so that it pretty plainly told which amongst the limited number of the village sick had departed. At this solemn signal all considered it a sort of religious obligation to hold themselves in readiness to serve at the wake if called upon, so that there seldom occurred the least difficulty in the matter. The watching party always consisted of a number of both sexes: if the deceased were a female, usually of two couples; if a male, of gentlemen only. She could have scarcely felt more electrified at the touch of the torpedo. She rose with offended surprise, and retired to another part of the room; and on his attempting to repeat the familiarity, she told him to have some respect for her and for the occasion, if he had lost sight of his own self-respect; and this command he obeyed. Her first impulse had been to leave the room and join the family, but this she could not do without explanation; and she did not wish to wound their feelings, or expose the deacon by the relation of such light conduct in the chamber of death. As it was summer, and the short night would be soon spent, she concluded she would remain until daylight before she left the house; and at its first dawning, for which she had anxiously waited, offended and indignant, though innocent, she sought her own home, which she reached before the family had arisen. Never before had she been placed in a situation where she felt in doubt how to act. She did not wish to injure the feelings of his friends, or the friends of the Church to which he belonged; and as it was past and could not occur again, she thought she would not mention it even in her own family. But though the bashfulness of a young girl prevented her revealing to her parents what she considered the folly of an old man, it was inconsistent with the openness of her character to keep it long to herself. After the lapse of a few days of unpleasant reflection, she sought relief as it were by confiding the whole transaction to An old lady, a friend or neighbor of Hester's mother having died, the deacon of the Church to which she belonged was deputed to call upon suitable persons for the wake; but owing to a combination of circumstances, he was unsuccessful in securing a female friend, some years her senior. This lady several first solicited for the occasion. One lady, however, had given a conditional promise to attend; and he now called upon Hester's married sister, saying that he himself should be one, and perhaps the only gentleman of the company. The elder sister being thought by the family to be in too feeble health for the performance of such an office, they kindly proposed that Hester should go in her stead, to which she cheerfully consented. She was in her place at the knowing the deacon to be the simplest of men, standing almost entirely aloof from female association, and totally ignorant of its manners, believed he meant no harm, but foolishly strove to manifest his regard for Hester in this abrupt and unsuitable manner; and she advised her, since she had not revealed it to her family, not to mention it to any me; "for," said she, "if it should get abroad, one will misunderstand it, another misinterpret it, and a third willfully misrepre sent it; discord will arise in the Church, and you will || such continued persecution could not be heaped upon be the sufferer;" and how fully was her prediction the head of the innocent, forgetting that they themverified! For several months, Hester was discreetly silent, but at length she confided the secret to a young associate, who considering it rather a ludicrous than a serious affair, thought it too good to be kept. She revealed it to another, and thus it went from mouth to mouth, secrecy always enjoined but never preserved, until it somehow reached the ears of the young men of the village; and one of them who had formerly been an unsuccessful admirer of Hester's, took malicious, delight in spreading it, and wrote on the Church door, "A deacon should be of good report," which, being read by several of the old members of the Church, and the hand-writing recognized, the youth was called upon for an explanation; and the whole affair came to light with every form of exaggeration, which the story had gathered in its secret circulation. The deacon was now summoned to a Church trial, and his confession proved exactly what Hester's friend had suspected, and nothing more. He said that "he had more than a common regard for Miss Hester, and thought this was the way to evince it." He was "sorry that he had misjudged, and as he meant no evil, begged to be forgiven." He was reprimanded, pronounced, for the hundredth time, a simpleton, and continued in his office. selves, without conviction, were her chief persecutors. They called themselves Christians; but they remembered not that the great Founder of Christianity was not only the most innocent and holy being that ever dwelt upon our earth, but also the most persecuted, and the most forgiving! After this last blow fell upon the head of the devoted Hester, there seemed to be a revulsion in the public feeling towards her; but it was too late-the iron had entered into her soul. A physician was called in; but he candidly acknoweldged that no medicine of his could reach the disease. He advised traveling. For this she seemed little disposed, but yielded to the wishes of her family. It was in the fullness and fragrance of the spring time, and all nature seemed rejoicing with new life. Her eye acknowledged the loveliness of the season, but her spirit was not in accordance; for she felt that she should fade sooner than the budding flowers on the hill tops before her; and how was she prepared for the great change? She had for several years been in membership with the Church, and had lived in the conscientious discharge of its requirements, and her family felt that she was spiritually safe. To them she seemed to have been born a Christian, and "to need no repentance;" and she had herself, too, always looked forIn every community there will always be found some ward with a sort of quiet, indefinite assurance, that ready to believe every current report, however exag- heaven would be her portion whenever her earthly pilgerated and improbable; and now, that the deacon was grimage was ended. But now that the grave was excused by the Church, the whole burden of reproach, opening before her, she thought differently; and as she such as it was, was heaped upon Hester by the mali- strove to read her Bible, as it were, by the light of cious and the ignorant. She could not walk in the eternity, and with a prayerful spirit, that she might be street without being gazed at, and more than once heard "guided into all truth," she felt that she had been deher name in the mouths of the vulgar, coupled with ceiving herself; and though she had had a name to terms of reproach. This, considering its source, she live, she had never been "born of God," had never felt did not so much mind; but it cut her to the heart to "his Spirit witnessing with her spirit" that she was observe the change of manner by which she was re- accepted of him, and her sins blotted out from the book garded by some of the oldest members of their Church. of his remembrance. And now, fainting and thirsting Because she had been the innocent cause of arraigning for the waters of salvation, she found in dismay that their deacon, they had become more acrimonious and her "broken cisterns" were empty. And she lifted up less cordial; though, perhaps, they would have been her voice, and cried in an agony, "Lord, help or I perunwilling to acknowledge it to themselves. Her young ish!" He who saved Peter on the deep had compasfriends still loved her; but somehow they sought her sion on her. He placed his everlasting arms around her, society less frequently than formerly-her Sabbath and lifted her up, and he put a new song in her mouth, school class dwindled away, and her "good was ac- even praise to her Redeemer. And those who witcounted evil." But she bore all this with patient sub-nessed her cheerfulness and her happiness, and the mission, and sunk not until the persecution had sev-radiance of her countenance after this change until her ered her engagement, and reached her heart through him she loved; and then a blight seemed to have fallen upon her, and she faded away like the crushed flower. She uttered no complaint; but it was evident to all that she was hastening to the grave. The family of her betrothed were ambitious, and had never been fully satisfied with his having chosen a portionless girl; and now, thought they, there is a fair occasion for opposing the connection; and they forbade his longer thinking of her, saying that they wished his wife, like Cæsar's, "not only to be pure, but beyond suspicion"—insisting that death, will ever remember it. She admonished all around her to be faithful to themselves, and to search diligently into the grounds of their faith, and not like herself rest satisfied with only a name to live. She said she now saw that the vision of her earthly happiness had been dissipated in mercy to secure her eternal blessedness; for had not the shadow of disappointment fallen upon her heart she should have been satisfied with her earthly portion, and the sunlight of the Spirit had never been shed upon the soul; and O how much more precious was it to her awakened love to die hap THE WIDOW OF NAIN. pily than to have lived happily. She prayed, in the language of her Church service, that God would "forgive all her enemies, persecutors, and slanderers, and turn their hearts." Her prayer seemed to have been answered; for when she was buried, many followed her to the grave with accusing consciences, who, in the days of her suffering, had hardened their hearts and stiffened their necks against her; so that, should there ever occur another case of slandered innocence amongst them, it is hoped they will remember Hester, and sin no more. 23 by the affecting fact that the deceased was "the only son of his mother, and she was a widow," could not together impart so much consolation as was found in these two words-weep not. They are the expression of the sympathies of a divine heart for the sorrows of a bereaved mother. "And he came and touched the bier, and they that bare him stood still. And he said, Young man, I say unto thee, arise. And he that was dead sat up and began to speak," Luke vii, 14. How majestic that presence! How sovereign that authority! How mighty that power! How divine that benevolence! Well might the historian add, “And there came a fear on all." But while we reverence the authority and admire the power of Him, who, like the Father, “quickeneth whom he will," it is the tender benevolence of the act that makes the deepest impression on the mind. Who is not charmed with the mercy that shone out in this transaction? We can How her recreant lover was affected by her death I know not. He never returned to become a resident in the village; but I should not be surprised to learn, at some future day, that the recollection of her devotedness, and her sufferings, had fastened conviction on his conscience, and eventually proved the salvation of his soul; so that they may again meet in heaven, "where there is no marrying or giving in marriage," but full-conceive sufficient reasons why the immediate witness of joy for evermore. Hester lies buried in the quiet grave-yard of H. A plain slab stone marks her grave, with only her name and age, and this simple inscription, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." And as it has been the custom in that village from time immemorial for the young people, after the services of the Sabbath, to choose the grave-yard for their ramble, the inscription often meets their eye; and it may be said that Hester, who, whilst living, had a good word for all, still preaches from her grave, and in a sad but satisfied voice says, "To purity add discretion!" THE WIDOW OF NAIN; AFFECTION. nesses of the miracle should be most affected by the Omnipotence displayed in it, and why a dread should fall upon them. But we can also conceive abundant reasons why to us, at this distance of time, the same miracle should so strikingly set forth the beneficence of him who wrought it, and constrain us to exclaim, "Behold what manner of love!" What can be more beautifully simple than the words of the evangelist, " And he delivered him to his mother!" What must have been the feelings of that mother's heart when she received back that gift which had been surrendered to the embrace of death, and was about to be buried in the grave! To see a beloved child recovering from a wasting sickness, or snatched from some impending danger, creates unutterable feelings in the maternal bosom; but to see death robbed of his prey, and the grave disappointed of its victim, for the sake of gratifying a mother's love, O, this, this must have left that widowed mother speechless with wonder and gratitude! In such acts did the Savior delight; and there is little doubt that he often did such deeds, though comparatively few are recorded. Believing mother, have you consigned your darling son or daughter to the tomb? Weep not: Jesus will restore your child again, invested with the beauty of immortality. We may possibly imagine with what emotions the widow of Nain would ever after look upon that child, so miraculously restored to her. And how will moth AMONG the various touching scenes, drawn with such inimitable tenderness by the pencil of Luke, not the least affecting is that in which a widowed mother and her only son are the principal characters. Our Savior was returning from a visit to Capernaum, where he had been dispensing his beneficence; he had traveled thirteen miles to Nain, when, as he was entering the city, he met a funeral procession, following, to their last resting place, the mortal remains of a young man, the chief mourner for whom was a widowed mother. This meeting was not accidental, but providential, for Jesus Christ is Lord also of providence, and it was pre-ers in heaven look upon the dear objects of their love arranged by him, that he might gratify the benevolence in the time of "the restitution of all things," when, on of his own heart, while he extinguished the sorrows of another's. Perhaps I should say assuaged those sorrows, for though the dead son was to be restored to the fond embraces of his mother, the dead husband was not given again to the bereaved wife. It is thus that afflictions are multiplied into each other in this vale of tears, and happy, thrice happy are those to whom, in such circumstances, the Savior, as in this case, draws nigh and says, in accents of tenderness and love, 66 WEEP NOT." the resurrection morning, they shall receive them from the hand of Jesus Christ-not as they last viewed them, cold, motionless, and lifeless-not as they had so often conceived of them, moldering and crumbling in dust; but all life, all bloom, all beauty, bearing the image of the heavenly, instinct with holy intelligence, smiling with seraphic joy, and singing the softest music of heaven! O, to be the mother of such, who would not be willing to live in this world? Pray, then, for those you love, that you and they may together praise in The multitude of sympathizing friends, who, moved || heaven !—Mother's Magazine. |