point of health than on any former occasion. For four weeks I was unable to preach, and doubted whether I should ever preach more. But this was all my trial, and I was kept very quiet. My sermon on "Be still," &c. followed me, and God in mercy inclined me to be still. My people urged me very strongly to make a voyage to Europe, and offered to supply the pulpit and pay all my expenses. But though I should like well enough to see Europe, I could not feel any freedom to go. I did not like to have so much expense lavished upon me, nor did I know how to lose so much time as such a voyage would require. I am now better, and have been able to preach the three last Sabbaths. But I seem to preach in vain. There is no noise nor shaking among the dry bones, and even of the church I may almost say, There is no breath in them. But I am kept from impatience, and am not quite discouraged. As I know how desirous you feel that your children should love each other, I would tell you if I could, how much I love E. I loved her much before her last visit, and she endeared herself still more to us during that visit. I believe too pretty well. Do tell them so. the complaints of ministers, before. I do not wonder at it. to complain. But the reason of our apparent coldness is what you suppose it to be. Pressed down to the very dust, as I usually am, I cannot always dress my countenance in smiles, nor prevent it from expressing my sufferings. Hence I am unpopular among ministers. It is a trial, but I cannot help it.'

that I love my brothers What you say respecting who visit us, I have heard They have some reason

CHAPTER XVIII.

His private character. His affections and demeanour, as a husband, father, master, friend. His gratitude, economy, generosity. His temper of mind under injuries.

Ir is not every character that will bear a close inspection. The more intimately some men are viewed, the less veneration and respect are felt for them. This is true of some in elevated stations, and possessing no small share of public confidence. Even the church presents this anomaly. A man may bear a saint-like visage abroad, and yet be a very fiend in his own family; may put on meekness and devotion in a worshipping assembly, while he is the haughty tyrant of his wife and children; may preach self-denial and condescension, and yet carry it lordly towards the inmates of his own dwelling,-making them the ministers of his will and pleasure, or else embittering their existence by his savage temper and unreasonable complaints.

Professional men, whose public duties are very numerous and urgent, are liable to fail in many of those minute regards, which contribute so much to heighten the

-' only bliss

'Of Paradise, which has survived the fall.'

With the prevailing desire and purpose to yield to every claim its due consideration, they are in danger of thinking that they do well, if they are only indifferent to those of the least imposing description which originate in their

domestic relations; that they are not only excusable, but disinterested and praiseworthy, in neglecting, from devotion to the public welfare, the ten thousand little attentions to a wife's comfort and children's instruction and enjoyment, which, though each requires but a moment's time, and, taken singly, scarcely deserves specification, constitute, in the aggregate, the principal part of domestic felicity. But a man's circumstances must be very peculiar, to render these two classes of duties incompatible with each other. The look of affection, the kind word seasonably interposed, the helping hand which love extends, the eye ever awake to anticipate the little wants of the household, the heart prompt to seize opportunities to soothe sorrow, to calm excited feelings, to inspire and promote joy, and to alleviate the burden of maternal anxieties and cares which press incessantly upon the wife,-what sacrifice of public duty do these require? Yet who can calculate the misery which they prevent, or the blessedness which they confer? As it is not great calamities which render men unhappy-but petty injuries, and provocations, and disappointments, constantly recurring, too trifling to excite public sympathy, or to be made the subject of loud complaint; so it is not insulated acts of profuse generosity, and widely separated though extravagant expressions of affection, which constitute the reality or the happiness of friendship-especially of a friendship so pure and endearing, as ought ever to subsist between those who are united by conjugal ties. These holy bonds are cemented and strengthened by daily and hourly acts and expressions of kindness. And where, in the whole compass of motives, could a consideration be found to enforce this conjugal tenderness, so affecting and impressive, as that example of love to which St. Paul refers the husband for a pattern of his own duty? And, it may be added, what other reference could have conferred such exalted

honour on the marriage relation ?" Husbands love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church.-Be not bitter against them." This was Dr. Payson's law, in all that pertained to conjugal duties; and to this his daily practice exhibited as exact a conformity perhaps as is ever seen in this state of imperfection. Reasons have already been suggested why a sparing use should be made of those letters which exhibit his tenderness and fidelity in this relation; but a few extracts may with propriety be introduced.

My dear Wife,

6

At Sea, May 10, 1815.

'As this is the first time I have had occasion to address a letter to you since we were married; I thought it necessary, before I began, to consider a few moments by what title to address you. The result of my meditation was, a determination to employ the term ' wife,' in preference to any other. If you ask why I prefer that name, I answer-because it reminds me that you are mine, my own. I might call you dear Louisa,'' dear friend,' or ' dear'—any thing else; and it might mean only that you were a sister, a friend, or a favourite. But when I call you my wife,' it seems to me to mean every thing sweet, amiable, and endearing. It not only reminds me, that she to whom I write, is, under God, mine; but that she is mine by the gift and appointment of God; mine, by the sacred bond of marriage, which seems to give an air of sacredness to our union. After all, I have not said what I meant to say; but something a little like it. So do you try to imagine, or rather to feel, what I meant to say; and then confess that I have succeeded better than you in choosing a title, with which to head a letter. For my own part, I would rather you should call me ' dear husband,' than dear friend,' or ' dear Edward,' &c. However, call me by what name

you please, your letters will always be precious, while they continue to utter the language of affection. I have just been reading one of two which I have already found among my baggage. If you knew the pleasure they gave me, you would feel well paid for the trouble of writing. I fully intended to write at least one to you, and leave it behind me; but I could think of no place to put it, in which you would be certain to find it. But I must hasten to give you some account of our voyage.

6

· Friday and Saturday we had fair winds and pleasant weather, and I was not at all sea-sick. But on Sunday, it began to rain and blow hard. In the evening it increased to quite a gale, but was still favourable, so that, on Monday noon, we found ourselves, by observation, ninety miles south of Philadelphia. Since that time we have been beating about, vainly trying to get within the Capes of Delaware. We have just taken a pilot on board, and hope to reach Philadelphia in about fortyeight hours. Since the gale on Sunday, the Doctor and I have been very sick, and able to eat nothing. For two days and nights without intermission, I was tormented with one of my nervous headaches. This morning it has left me, and I begin to feel something like an appetite. I will only add now, as an excuse for writing so miserably, that I am at this moment tossing and rolling about worse than a boy in a swing, or on the end of a plank. Every thing near me, which is moveable, rolls from side to side incessantly; and I should do the same did I not hold on to something stable. I will therefore defer the conclusion of my letter till I am more established.'

Philadelphia, May 11. 'We arrived here late last night, after a most delightful sail up the Delaware. Wind and tide both favoured us, so that we came at the rate of eleven miles an hour, for ten hours successively. Scarcely ever have I expe