The Village Sunday School, with brief sketches of three of its scholarsSymons, John C. (John Christian)
Religion
The Village Sunday School, with brief sketches of three of its scholars
Symons, John C. (John Christian)
Sunday schools
The following letter has been put into the writer's hands since the
preceding pages were in the press, and will be read with deep interest,
as containing an account of the death of one of the teachers of
T---- street school, from the pen of her brother, James's colleague:--
"My beloved sister entered into the joy of her Lord about half-past
twelve this morning. I sat up in company with Mrs. B. and another
friend--it was a delightful night, there was a calm and cloudless sky,
and the full moon shone in at the window in spite of the blind and
rush-light. I rose at last, and extinguished it, and drew up the blind;
it was a beautiful and a solemn sight! I shall never forget it. Jessy
found it hard work to breathe, and at times, I almost indulged a wish
that she might be speedily released. But I did not dare to pray for life
or death; 'Thy will be done,' was my motto, and all was well. Seeing her
eyes often turned upward, I spoke, and pointed upward,
'Yonder's your house and portion fair;'
she hesitated a moment, and then added,--'M--y tr--easure--and--my HEART
are there.'
"At another time, observing her in great pain for the want of breath, and
at the same time moving her lips in silent prayer or praise, I said,--'As
thy day, so shall thy strength be,' She replied with feeling, 'Yes.' At
another time we understood her to say 'Jesus,' with something like energy
in her voice; but whether in prayer or praise we could not decide, as the
voice was thick, and rather indistinct, although loud, and many words
could not be understood because of this.
"The last word I caught was 'Glory,' and a very appropriate one it was to
bid adieu to this lower world, and enter that which is above. I attempted
to move her head a little, in order to let her see the beautiful moon
once more, as it shone on every part of her, except just the forehead and
eye; when she said, 'Don't bring me back from heaven,' and when we could
not understand her words, we were convinced by the tone of her voice that
pleasure and joy reigned within. Her hands had been for some time down by
her sides; but a few minutes before death she raised them gently up, and
clasping them together, seemed by her motions to commend her soul to
Jesus. O! I shall never forget that scene: there lay the dying saint
before my face,--it was the solemn, still hour of midnight--the calm
serene without beautifully harmonized with the scene within. The virgin
was ready, with her lamp trimmed, and the cry came, 'Behold the
bridegroom cometh; go ye forth to meet him,' The summons was obeyed, and
the faithful servant entered into the joy of her Lord.
"As regards my own feelings, I was without agitation; and that sweet,
sweet peace, which is the peculiar property of the people of God, kept my
heart and mind: but when the spirit had fled I felt a little excitement,
and could have disturbed the house by shouting her dying word, Glory!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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