They'll want her there, while God's own glory beams,
And while the ransomed keep their starry dwelling,
To hymn the beauty of immortal mind,—
For, of that world, mind is the greatest splendor,—
Lift holier anthems as new bliss they find
And drink new life as loftier praise they render."
He was a writer of attractive volumes containing Tales of Labor; "Summerfield, or Life on a Farm," "The Master Builder, or Life at a Trade," and "Merrimac, or Life in a Factory;" works of merit, which have been extensively read. His modesty, conscientiousness, devotion to duty, and religious spirit, all serve to make blessed his memory, a memory that can never be dwelt upon but with affection by those who knew most of him in life. In 1868 St. Lawrence University conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. He passed suddenly but peacefully away from the earth, in New York city, June 2, 1869, aged 53. His son, Rev. Charles F. Lee, is at present pastor of the Universalist church in Charlestown, Mass.
[45] The mother of Mr. King was a woman of keen intellect and of many virtues, and her talented son held her in highest esteem. As his popularity in California was increasing, there was a serious talk at one time of sending him as senator to Congress. The mother, hearing of this, wrote in a letter to her son: "Be on your guard. Don't let Satan take you to the top of Mt. Shasta, and show you Washington!"