Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1844-10-11

ventional form, so that his sons doing so wa.
was nothing. But his manner towards Mr.
Manly showed no change, except increased
cordially; he fully appreciated his affection.
ate attention towards his son he delighted
in his conversation, h" esteemed his worth |:
and Henry delighted to listen to them, as h.
lay on his couch in the twilight hour, and
was sometimes won to torgc,inlness of the
one great difference between them as he
heard the eloquent ouipourngs of two such
minds, both so refined, so expanded, so full
oflohy and noble feeling, tina, it seemed as
though there were no difference, except in
the one actualng motive. But was not that
difference the difference between gold and
tinseI, betweentruth and ACKNOWLEDGMENT
earth and heaven? On lha, one subject on
", Sir William was inaccessible, and Mr..
Manly, fearful Of aoita'ing his friend, dared
not press it beyond certain point.
And so the summer passed, with no change
but some little excursions, from which Hem
ry gladly returned to c.. Sir William,
still sangunc as to Ilcnrv's recovery, deter
mined to carry him to MADEIRA for the win
ter. Henry urged his own wishes against
this as strongly as possible, bu, at length
yielded to his fathers anxious desires. But il,
was not so to be. Sir William had left him to
make the necessary arrangements for his
own absence from England, that he might
accompany his darling; and all was nearly
complete, and Henry was striving 10 bring
his mind to acquiesce chreriulIy in villa,
was. indeed, a bitter sacrifice, the leaving
his friend, his father in Christ, to breathe
his last in "A foreign land, even though his
own dearly beloved parent, would be with
him, when, one morning early, Mr.. Manly
was summoned to his bedside. Duriug the
night, IA severe fit of coughing had producpd
severe hrmorrhage of the lungs and Henry
lay utterly exhausted, and apparently on the
verge of dissolution. The medical men were
already thcre-Sr William sent for express
o who shall describe the anguislcd of the
father, when arrived, to find his idoized son
lying on the bed Of death all his earthly
hopes dashed to the ground and no heaven
ly ones to rest on! But Henry rallied for
awhile, and was able. occasionally, to con-
verse little and then, all earthly restraints
cast away, with heaven already opening be-
fore him, and this world passing as dream,
his whole sonl was poured forth and O
what heavenly treasures flowed from it In
\ proportion to his deep love to his father, to
his esteem and admiration for all his high
and noble qualities, was his earnest, incx>
pressble anxety>,l,a they might share the
same hopes, the same faith; that, before he
left this earthly tabernacle, he might look
forward to a speedy and blessed reunion !;
yea, that that noble mind, from which he
had early imbibrd his love and excellence.
might recognize those sublime truths which
could alone satisfy its yearnings, could alone
yield consolation under the the last bereave-
ment of his earthly bliss.
Yet, even then, his single heart and
single eye prevented his urging those top
les winch nigh, beguile his affections rather
than convince his reason and touch his heart;
it was the simple and holy truths of the Cos
pei of which he spoke; and then PRAYER, ear
nest continual prayer, was his weapon; the
dying son ntcrceding with the Savior-who
had sought and found him-for his dear,
dear father. But must draw veil over
those scenes winch no pen could fully por-
tray, and which were too solemn, too sacred
to be detailed. A few weeks Henry llngcr-
ed till the final close. Calm, clear, patient
. W tiit WHY ldSl, ne WhS IlNt an dHHtl-SDITlt
awaiting his heavenly Masters fiat to depart.
His father never left HIM, scarcely relrovpd
! his ewes from him; he seemed as though he
would drink in every word, every look, cv-
cry thought of his darling. His mind was
in no state then to receive arguments, had
Henry been able to speak hut he seemed
to mbibe the spirit of Christianity from his
departing soul.
One morning, when Man y went in early,
as was his wont, he found all still in the
room of sickness. The rising sun cast
CLEAN over the couch where Henry lay; he
perceived, as he approached, that Sir Will
liam, utterly overcome by fatigue, had fall
len asleep, with his arm, on which his own
head had dropped, encircling that of his son,
and one hand clasped in his. He thought
Henry slept too, and was about to withdraw,
when, as the sun cast a stronger light, he
looked again-his heart throbbrd-Ilenry
D. was dead His face, calm AID beau.
liful as an angels, wore a tranquil smile
and the sunbeam, shining on his bright HAIR,
seemed like halo of glory around him.
Some years after this, on the same bed,
lay extended the form of man, worn to the
extreme of attenuation, with hair of svery
hue, yet whose features bore not the mark
of extreme age pale, as if already a corpse,
yet with an eye clear and undimmed. BY
his side knelt clergyman, still in the prime
of life he read the solemn form of PRAYERS
in onr Church for the dying; and the sick
man listened, and swee, and Tranquil smile
played over his wan features. and hls lips
moved, and his eyes were turned heaven
ward. When Mr.. Manly (for he it was)
ceased, there was a pause then the sacred
elements, already prepared, were brought
forward, the attendants called ia, and the
last solemn rite administered.
That evening Manly returned i; the last
hour was approaching, but the mind shone
in undimmed light. Is all peace, dear
triend?
AN is peace. thanks be to him who alone
can give it,
'You will soon rejon your Henry's spirit
Il trust so, humbly trust so; but the