to earth, and to ourselves again. And while we think of mortality, sin, death, and the grave, we feel the prayer rise in our bosom—“O let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!”
If there be a moment when Christ and salvation, death, judgment, heaven, and hell, appear more than ever to be momentous subjects of meditation, it is that which brings us to the side of a coffin containing the body of a departed believer.
Elizabeth’s features were altered, but much of her likeness remained. Her father and mother sat at the head, her brother at the foot of the coffin. The father silently and alternately looked upon his dead child, and then lifted up his eyes to heaven. A struggle for resignation to the will of God was manifest in his countenance; while the tears rolling down his aged cheeks at the same time declared his grief and affection. The poor mother cried and sobbed aloud, and appeared to be much overcome by the shock of separation from a daughter so justly dear to her. The weakness and infirmity of old age added a character to her sorrow, which called for much tenderness and compassion.
A remarkably decent-looking woman, who had the management of the few simple though
solemn ceremonies which the case required, advanced towards me, saying:
“Sir, this is rather a sight of joy than of sorrow. Our dear friend Elizabeth finds it to be so, I have no doubt. She is beyond all sorrow. Do you not think she is, sir?”
“After what I have known, and seen, and heard,” I replied, “I feel the fullest assurance that while her body remains here, the soul is with her Saviour in Paradise. She loved Him here, and there she enjoys the pleasures which are at his right hand for evermore.”
“Mercy, mercy upon a poor old creature, almost broken down with age and grief! What shall I do? Betsy’s gone! My daughter’s dead! O, my child! I shall never see thee more! God be merciful to me a sinner!”—sobbed out the poor mother.
“That last prayer, my dear, good woman,” said I, “will bring you and your child together again. It is a cry that has brought thousands to glory. It brought your daughter there, and I hope it will bring you thither likewise. God will in nowise cast out any that come to Him.”
“My dear,” said the Dairyman, breaking the long silence he had maintained, “let us trust God with our child; and let us trust Him with