Weekly Trinity journal., 1858-06-05

RIGINAL.
Empty Plncc in the Church Pew.


The holy calm of bright, beautiful Sabbath
morning is resting upon the earth, and holer
still the quiet joy which fills the hearts of all
earth's toiling millions. Rcst-rest for the wea
ry, earth.worn traveller, typical Of the one eter
nal, soon to follow May we not be glad without
sin when all nature is replete with the tokens of
revivifying and joyous Influences when every
leaf and flower seems possessed with Intelligence,
and every whispering breeze sounds tie dcum
of praise and thanksgiving to the Giver offspring?
The enchanted groves are telling wondrous tales
of wisdom infinite Their twttering occupants
sing in sympathy with the sighing gales. The
green hills lift their hoary heads, white with the
SHOWS of ages, towards heaven, and so resplen-
dent is the soft blue sky. 1t seems as If it might
be reflection from the better world beyond
Who can live in this beautiful spring time, and
enjoy Gods good gifts, and not feel that charity
which embraces every living creature. have
sometimes thought would like to live here al
ways forgetting in a moment of enthusiastic de-
light there could be happier or more beautiful
world. But when the saddened thought comes
of the loved and lost who have gone before,
then remember the dear faces lying under the
eoflin's lid, would be forever hid from my gaze,
and that their love which is blended with mine,
living on through the long silent years Of our
separation, would not, even in heaven, have its /
perfect rest.
Death is ali eternal sleep is not now written
upon the gravcstone and recorded over the gates
of cemerics in former times, when lnddelity |
took the place of an enlightcdcd, soul u-inspiring
faith, but an effort of the immortal part to fly
away and measure the vast and infinite unknown
These thoughts are suggested by the recent death
of our esteemed friend, Mrs MARY SPENCER,
wife of DR.. j. c. Spencer, whose demise you will
find chroniclcd in yesterdays papers A few
days ago she was with us, enjoying her usual
health, but suddenly we were made aware of the
awful presence of the dark angel, on whose re-
ccdng pinons rcclined the loved form of our be-
loved friend. Her death was gorions triumph
of christian faith. In happy frame of mind,
unclouded by single doubt. she fingered two
days, after being told she could not live the
world and all its endcarments receeded from her
view, and she seemed beyond It's influence. In
gentle tones she badc her weeping friends fare
well, and without single struggle resigned her
soul into the keeping of him on whom she believ-
ed. To-day her place in the church will be va
cant the voice we were wont to hear singing In
earthly tabernacles is praisng God In house
not made with hands. But back from the grave
comes throng Of sacred memories, which clus-
ter lovingly around the hearts of all who knew
her In her heart was deep wellspring Of love,
gushing, never-ebbng tide of affection on her
home perpetual gladncss- CLEAN Of sunshine,
which is suddenly taken away, leaving it dark
and silent, and the words gone never more to
return echo through the desolate rooms The
soft, low wall of little babe is mingled with
the heart broken sobs of her dsconsolate hus
band, and the sghs aud tears of the numerous
friends to whom she was endcarcd. She died a.
only a christian can die may your last days, and
mine, be like hers
Is the humble prayer of Bessie.
SACRAMENTO May %, 1857.