tions of which I can trace through all my past life; of goodness, which I humbly hope and trust will continue to bless me through all my future existence."

"November 18, 1805. "My dear mother,-I last night witnessed a scene, to which I had before been a stranger; it was a death-bed scene. A young gentleman of my acquaintance, and nearly of my own age, had been confined thirty-two days, and I was requested to watch with him; and a more exquisitely distressing task I hope never to undertake. When I went, there was little, if any, hope of his life. His mother-whose favourite he deservedly was— though she is, I believe, a sincere Christian, seemed unable to support the idea of a separation. Fatigue and loss of sleep made her light-headed; and, at times, she raved almost as badly as the patient. His sister, a gay, thoughtless girl, was in a paroxysm of loud and turbulent grief; while a young lady, whom he was expecting to marry, heightened the distress by marks of anguish too strong to be concealed; and which seemed to flow from tenderness, equal to any thing I have met with in romance. As I had seen nothing of the kind before, its effects on my feelings were irresistible. The perpetual groans and ravings of the dying—whose head I was for hours obliged to support with one hand, while I wiped off the sweat of death with the other; the inarticulate expressions of anguish, mingled with prayers, of the mother; the loud and bitter lamentations of the sister; the stifled agonies of the young lady, and the cries of the younger branch of the family (the father was asleep!) formed a combination of sounds, which I could scarcely support. Add to this the frightful contortions and apparent agonies of the poor sufferer, with all the symptoms of approaching death, About two o'clock, he died. I then had the no less difficult and painful task of endeavouring to quiet the family. The mother, when convinced he was certainly dead, became composed, and with much persuasion and some force was prevailed upon to retire to her bed, as were the rest of the family except the young lady. I had then to go half a mile for a person to assist in laying out the corpse, in a bitter storm as ever blew; and after this was done, watched with it the remainder of the night. You will not wonder if I feel, to-day, exhausted in body and mind. Surely, there is no torture like seeing distress, without the ability of removing it. All day have I heard the dying groans sounding in my ears. I could not have believed it possible, that any thing could take such astonishing hold of the mind; and unless you can remember the first death you ever witnessed, you can never conceive how it affected me. But distressing as it was, I would not for any thing have been absent. I hope it will be of service to me. better to go to the house of mourning, than to the house of mirth. has a strong tendency to soften the heart, and dispose it to gratitude and other affections. An instance of this I saw in this family. They are so grateful to me for-I don't know what, that they seem unable to thank me enough." "February 9, 1806.

It is Grief

"You need be under no apprehension, my dear mother, that my present mode of living will render the manner of living in the most rustic parish disagreeable. On the contrary, I shall be glad of the exchange, as it respects diet; for I find it no easy matter to sit down to a table profusely spread with dainties, and eat no more than nature requires and temperance allows. And I should take infinitely more satisfaction in the conversation of a plain, unlettered Christian, than in the unmeaning tattle of the drawing-room, or the flippant vivacity of professed wits. What gives me most uneasiness, and what, I fear, will always be a thorn in my path, is too great a thirst for applause. When I sit down to write, I perpetually catch myself considering, not what will be most useful, but what will be most likely to gain praise

from an audience. If I should be unpopular, it would, I fear, give me more uneasiness than it ought; and if—though I think there is little reason to fear it-I should in any degree be acceptable, what a terrible blaze it would make in my bosom. What a temptation this disposition will create, to suppress, or lightly touch upon, those doctrines which are most important, because they are disagreeable to most persons. I should at once give up in despair, had I nothing but my own philosophy to depend on; but I hope and trust I shall be enabled to conquer it.'

His first appearance before a popular assembly was on the 4th of July, 1806, when, at the request of the municipal authorities of the town where he resided, he pronounced the anniversary oration on the Revolution,—a performance which gained him great applause, but which he was in vain solicited to publish. He seems to have endeavoured to turn this popular festival to good account, for we find him saying: "Would you know the real source of the calamities we suffer, and the dangers we fear? It is here ; we have forsaken the God of our fathers, and therefore all this evil has come upon us. We once gloried in styling ourselves his American Israel; and a similarity of character and situation gives us a claim to the title. Like them, we have often been delivered by his uplifted hand and his outstretched arm; like them, we have experienced his munificence in temporal and spiritual blessings; and, like them, we have repaid his goodness with ingratitude and rebellion. Like them, we have bowed down to the idols of luxury, of ambition, of pleasure, and avarice; and as we have copied their idolatry, so, unless Heaven in undeserved mercy prevent, we shall soon resemble them in their destruction. It is an immutable truth, that sin is the ruin of any people; and woe to that nation who will not believe it without making the experiment! This experiment, fatal as it must prove, we seem resolved to make. Among us, God's laws are disobeyed, his institutions are despised, his Sabbaths are profaned, and his name is blasphemed. And shall he not visit for these things? Will he not be avenged on such a nation as this? Will any reply, with a sneer, that these observations have been often repeated, and that they have now become trite and old? They are so; and though this were the ten thousandth repetition, still, if we have not yet reduced them to practice, it is necessary to hear them again and again.” The development of Dr. Payson's religious character was gentle, unobtrusive, but progressive. From the year 1804 religion seems to have been his all-engrossing concern: his attention was then arrested and fixed so as never afterwards to be diverted, for any length of time, from the subject. The occasion of this new or revived anxiety for his soul was the death of a beloved brother. In a letter to his parents he says: "My dear mother's fears respecting my attention to religious concerns were, alas! but too well founded. Infatuated by the pleasures and amusements which this place affords, and which took the more powerful hold on my senses from being adorned with a refinement to which I had before been a stranger, I gradually grew cold and indifferent to religion; and, though I still made attempts to reform, they were too transient to be effectual. From this careless frame, nothing but a shock like that I have received could have roused me; and though my deceitful heart will, I fear, draw me back again into the snare, as soon as the first impression is worn off, yet I hope, by the assistance of Divine grace, that this dispensation will prove of eternal benefit." 'I am the Achan who has drawn down this punishment and occasioned this distress to my friends. My careless, obdurate heart rendered it necessary, to punish and humble it: and, oh that the punishment had fallen where it was due!"

His mind continued for some time in an unsettled state. "I go on,"

he says, "sinning, and humbling myself, after long seeking for a proper sense of my sin; then confessing it with contrition and remorse; and the next moment, even while the joy of obtained pardon and gratitude for Divine favour are thrilling in my heart, plunging, on the most trivial temptation, into the same error whose bitter consequences I had so lately felt. Shame and remorse for the ungrateful returns I have made for the blessings bestowed, prevent secret prayer, frequently for two or three days together, until I can no longer support it; and though I have so often experienced forgiving love, I am too proud to ask for it." A few weeks afterwards he writes: "I feel convinced by experience, that if I relax my exertions for ever so short a time it will require additional exertions to repair it, and perhaps occasion a week's gloom and despondency; yet the least temptation leads me to do what I feel conscious at the time I shall severely smart for. In the impracticable attempt to reconcile God and the world I spend my time very unhappily; neither enjoying the comforts of this world, nor those of religion. But I have at last determined to renounce the false pleasures for which I pay so dear."

In a future letter, the same year, 1805, he goes on to explain what he considered to be the cause of his unsettled feelings:-"I find I have been trying to establish a righteousness of my own, though till lately I thought myself free from any such design. Hence arose all that unwillingness to perform the public and private exercises of devotion which I felt after any neglect of duty. I wanted to be encouraged to hope for an answer of peace by some merits of my own; and so felt unwilling to approach the Throne of Grace when I had been guilty of any thing which lessened my stock of goodness. In short, it was the same kind of reluctance which I should feel to approach a fellow-being whom I had injured. And this, which I now see arose from pride, I fondly thought was the effect of great humility. Finding myself so deceived here, and in numberless other instances, I am utterly at a loss what to do. If I attempt to perform any duty, I am afraid it is only an attempt to build up a fabric of my own; and if I neglect it, the case is still worse.”

In a manuscript volume, written in characters which it was a long and difficult work to decipher, he writes, July 25, 1805: "This day, being my twenty-second birth-day, I have determined to commence a diary, as a check on the misemployment of time. Having resolved this day to dedicate myself to my Creator, in a serious and solemn manner, by a written covenant, I took a review of my past life, and of the numerous mercies by which it has been distinguished. Then, with sincerity as I humbly hope, I took the Lord to be my God, and engaged to love, serve, and obey him. Relying on the assistance of his Holy Spirit, I engaged to take the Holy Scriptures as the rule of my conduct, the Lord Jesus Christ to be my Saviour, and the Spirit of all grace and consolation as my Guide and Sanctifier. The vows of God are upon me." Subsequent passages in his diary shew an ever-active desire to pay the vows which his lips had uttered. He made strenuous efforts to redeem the morning hours from sleep, that he might enjoy an uninterrupted season for reading the Scriptures, and other devotional exercises; and when he failed of this, he suffered much in consequence, and lamented it with deep feeling. His diligence in business, as well as his fervour of spirit, are abundantly apparent from the account which he has given of the employment of every hour, from four in the morning till ten at night.

A solicitude for the spiritual welfare of others was in Mr. Payson co-eval with his profession of the faith and hope of the Gospel. Of this his pupils were always the most interesting objects; and he frequently mentions his exertions for their spiritual benefit in his letters to his mother. For example:

"This morning I was highly favoured in speaking to my scholars. I spoke nearly three quarters of an hour with some earnestness, though not so much as I could have wished. They are attentive; and a very perceptible difference has taken place in their attention to their studies. I hope that, sooner or later, they will become attentive to more important pursuits. I am almost afraid to write even to you, my dear mother, on these subjects, lest I should make some gross blunder, through my ignorance and inexperience. I have often observed that persons who begin to read late in life, are apt to think every thing they meet with in books as new to others as it is to them; and so make themselves ridiculous by retailing, as novelties, what every one knew before. In like manner, I am somewhat apprehensive of appearing to you, in mentioning my own feelings, as one who is detailing last year's news; for your ideas and feelings must be so far beyond mine, that it will require some patience to read my relations. However, I trust to your goodness; and hope you will remember that many things which are now plain and common, were once dark and unusual to you. I am pursuing my studies very much at random, having no person to advise with." In the month of August, 1806, Mr. Payson relinquished his charge of the academy in Portland, and returned to his father's house to pursue his studies for the sacred ministry. Not that he was particularly deficient in sacred learning; on the contrary, his theological knowledge was probably equal to that of most candidates; but he felt the need of a regular and specific course of theological and mental preparation and to the occupations of those days of seclusion from the world, more than to any other means, may be traced his spiritual growth, and that extraordinary unction which attended his discharge of his official duties. From every pursuit, not directly subsidiary to his grand design, he resolutely divorced himself. He seems to have concentrated all his powers to the acquisition of scriptural knowledge, and the cultivation of Christian and ministerial graces; in obedience to the apostolical precept, "Give thyself wholly to them." The Bible was, with him, the subject of close, critical, persevering, and for a time almost exclusive attention; his reading being principally confined to such writings as would assist in its elucidation. In this manner, he studied the whole of the inspired volume, from beginning to end, so that there was not a verse on which he had not formed an opinion. In this way he acquired his remarkable readiness to meet every question on every occasion, whether proposed by a caviller or a conscientious inquirer. The advantages hence derived were, in his view, beyond all computation. It secured for him the confidence of his people, as a man mighty in the Scriptures." It gave him great influence with Christians of other denominations. It enabled him to confound and silence gainsayers, when they could not be convinced, as well as to build up the elect of God in their most holy faith; and it furnished him with varied forms of illustration, and modes of conveying to ordinary minds the less obvious truths with which he was conversant in the exercise of his ministry.

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With study he united intense and constant prayer; aware of the aberrations to which the human mind is liable, he earnestly sought the guidance of the Holy Spirit. He felt safe nowhere but near the Throne of Grace; and he often literally studied theology on his knees, with the Bible open before him, pleading the promise, "I will send the Comforter; and when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth." He strove to mortify the flesh with its affections and lusts. He allowed himself only a small part of the twenty-four hours for sleep; and his seasons for fasting were so frequent and severe, that his family were alarmed for his safety. Often has his mother, or sister, stood at the door of his chamber, with a little milk or some other refreshment equally simple, pleading in vain for

admission. Mr. Payson afterwards saw his error; the unhappy consequences of which to his health were felt, it is believed, to his dying day.

From causes beyond his controul he often failed of accomplishing all that he had prescribed to himself. When diverted from his object he would goad himself to extraordinary exertion; and, when successful in executing his plan, great was his satisfaction. The influence of habitual prayer upon his studies was so powerful that the strength of his devotion seems for the most part to have been the measure of his intellectual progress. By his near approaches to the Father of lights, his mind received, as it were, the direct beams of the Eternal Fountain of illumination. Few requests were urged by him more earnestly than for assistance in study; and not unfrequently he records his feelings on the occasion, as for example: "Was entirely discouraged respecting my studies, and almost determined to give up in despair. But see the goodness of God! He enabled me to write a whole sermon, besides reading a great deal; and in the evening was pleased to lift up the light of his countenance upon me. Oh, how refreshing, strengthening, and animating, are his smiles! How ravishing the contemplation of his holiness, love, wisdom, power, and goodness! He seemed to be a boundless ocean of love; and the sight caused my heart to expand with love to him and all his creatures. Oh, how trifling do earthly beauties appear, when he is pleased to unveil his face, and give a glimpse of heaven! His holiness is the chief glory of his nature."

Yet amidst such glowing ardours of devotion, we find him bowed down and "sore smitten" in self-abasement. Now he is "crushed into the very dust by a recollection of the sins of his youth;"-now he is " filled with distressing feelings, and loses all hope that he shall ever be fit to preach;" while those very feelings he attributes to a criminal cause, as "disappointed pride, and a conscious inferiority to others." At another time he is "brought into temptations, which shew his inward corruptions, against which he had been praying," or which he had not before suspected in himself. Again, if he "attempts to approach the Throne of Grace, whole floods of evil imaginations carry him away, so that he is fain to have recourse to unthought-of methods to get rid of them :" in a word, he is " oppressed with such a sense of his insignificance and vileness, that it seemed as if he should never open his mouth any more, to boast, complain, or censure."

Still his religion was far removed from mere contemplation or asceticism. Its fruits demonstrated the genuineness of the stock. His first care was, indeed, to have his "heart right with God; " but he was, at the same time, even at this early age, fertile in good devices, and prompt to execute them.

As the time approached when Mr. Payson was to receive a licence, agreeably to Congregational usage, to preach the Gospel, his spiritual mindedness appears to have remarkably increased. Most sensibly did he feel, that he "was not his own, but was bought with a price;" and that " the world was crucified to him, and he to the world." His piety was distinguished by more frequent acts of self-dedication to God, conducted with great deliberation, and attended by a minute survey of the relations of the creature to the Creator, the redeemed to the Redeemer, and of the obligations recognised and assumed by such a consecration. He penned and subscribed a "Confession and Form of Self-government," which affords a most affecting display of his emotions and resolutions. We copy the concluding sentences, as a specimen. After enlarging upon the great mercies he had enjoyed, his neglect of them, the aggravations of his transgressions, and his utter inability to rescue himself, he records his full dependence upon the sacrifice of the Redeemer and the sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit; adding: "O my God, what shall I say more? What can I ask, since I am thine, and thou art mine; mine for time, mine for eternity? O my God, I want nothing, but to be wholly thine. I would plead thy promise for a