My dear Mother, Feb. 1, 1827. 'I have just received your letter; and though I am obliged to write with my left hand, and that is numb, I must try to scratch a few lines in reply. I am no better; am tolerably contented and happy, but have not much sensible consolation. We have increasing evidence that L. is become pious; but E. who seemed to be in a promising way, has lost his impressions. You have probably heard, that Mr. R. has hopes that H. is converted. We have about a dozen hopeful converts, and appearances are encouraging.-I have much to be thankful for. Wife, children, and people, all try to minister to my comfort.I rejoice to hear that your mind is in so desirable a frame; though I expected no less. God has not led you so far to forsake you at last. Should you be taken away before me, I shall feel as Elisha did, when he lost Elijah; for I doubt not your prayers have been of great service to me. I received a letter from G. lately, inviting me to come and spend part of the winter at New York. I thank him, but I cannot come. Home is the only place for a cripple, who can neither dress nor undress himself; besides, I can be of some service to my people, while here. I have many things to say; but writing is so wearisome and painful, that I can add nothing more. Assure G. and E. of my warmest love, and believe me, Your affectionate son.' Feb. 20. 'My dear Mother, 'I wrote the inclosed letter, three weeks since, and sent it with the money by a man, who said he was going to New York; but after I hoped it had arrived there, it came back to me again. I have just received your last letter, and what shall I say in reply? If my hand would permit, I could say much; if my health would allow of it, I would come and see you. As it is, I can only say, God be with you, my dear mother, and bless you, as he has made you a blessing to me. If it be his will, that we should not meet again in this world, I must say—farewell, for a short time; for short, I trust, will be the time, before we meet again. Farewell, then, my dear, dear mother! for a short time, farewell!' It proved to be the last farewell. His mother a few days afterwards was called to her eternal home. CHAPTER XX. His last labours-His spiritual joys, heavenly counsels, and brightening intellect, during the progress of his disease— his triumphant exit-Conclusion. DR. PAYSON was, at length, compelled to yield to the irresistible power of disease. Parts of his body, including his right arm and left side, were very singularly affected. They were incapable of motion, and lost all sense of feeling externally; while in the interior parts of the limbs thus affected, he experienced, at intervals, a most intense burning sensation, which he compared to a stream of fused metal, or liquid fire, coursing through his bones. No external applications were of the least service; and in addition to his acute sufferings from this source, he was frequently subject to most violent attacks of nervous headache. It was with great reluctance that he relinquished preaching. The spirit continued willing,' long after the 'flesh failed.' But who can resist the appointment of heaven! The decree had gone forth, that he must die; and the progress of his complicated maladies declared but too unequivocally that the decree must soon be exe-' cuted. He did not, however, cease preaching at once; but, at first, secured assistance for half the day only. An arrangement to this effect, which was expected to continue several weeks, commenced on the second Monday of March. He occupied the pulpit in the morning. His text was, The word of the Lord is tried. The sermon was not written, of course; but no one, that he ever wrote, not even his celebrated discourse on the Bible, was more instructive and eloquent, than this—particularly those parts, in which he described the trials to which the word of the Lord had been subjected by its enemies, and the tests of a different character which it had sustained from its friends. Never, scarcely, were the mightiest infidels made to appear so puny, insignificant, and foolish. "He who sitteth in the heavens" could almost be seen "deriding them." When describing the manner in which Christians had tried it, he "spoke out of the abundance of his heart." Experience aided his eloquence, and added strength to the conviction which it wrought. And it would have been listened to with a still greater intenseness of interest, had his own trials, mentioned in the preceding chapter, been known. The application of the subject to his auditory must be left for imagination to supply; for it cannot be conveyed on paper. On pronouncing the blessing, he requested the congregation to resume their seats. He descended from the pulpit, and took his station in front of it, and commenced a most solemn appeal to the assembly. He began with a recognition of that feeling in an auditory which leads them to treat a minister's exhortations as if they were merely a discharge of professional duty, by one placed above them, and having little sympathy with them. 'I now put aside the minister,' said he; 'I come down among you, place myself on a visible equality; I address you as a fellow man, a friend, a brother, and fellow traveller to the bar of God; as one equally interested with yourselves in the truths which I have been declaring.' He then gave vent to the struggling emotions of his heart, in a strain of affectionate entreaty, expressing the most anxious desires for their salvation. In conclusion, he referred them to the common practice, when men have any great object to accomplish of assembling together, and adopting resolutions expressive of their convictions and purposes; and he wished his hearers to follow him in a series which he was about to propose, and to adopt them, not by any visible act or expression, but mentally, if they thought them of sufficient importance, and could do it sincerely. One resolution expressed a conviction of the truth of the Bible; another, of criminal indifference to its momentous disclosures; another acknowledged the claims of Jehovah; another, the paramount importance of attention to the concerns of the soul; and another, the purpose to seek its salvation without delay. Though his withered right arm hung helpless by his side, yet he seemed instinct with life;' and every successive resolution was rendered emphatic by a gesture of the left. 1 In all his public ministrations during this period, when his body was sinking towards the grave, there was a singular adaptedness of truth to existing circumstances. The subjects upon which he expatiated were in unison with his condition, as a servant of God ripening fast for heaven. There was much of the nature of testimony for God. He omitted no opportunity, public or private, to maintain the honour and perfections of Him, whose am 1 Among his various methods of drawing attention to the subject of religion, might have been mentioned the following, had it not been overlooked,-which is here inserted, though out of its proper place, as a practical hint. 'Once in the course of my ministry, I made an analysis of all the sermons which I had preached to my people for six months, and embodied it in one sermon, and preached it to them. They were astonished, and I was astonished at the amount of truth which had been presented to them, and, to human appearance, with very little effect.'-How appropriate to this beloved pastor are the lines of Goldsmith: 'And as a bird each fond endearment tries, |