and even cheerfulness, may be indefinitely extended. But when hope is
taken away, or, rather, when, instead of looking towards life with that
instinctive love of it which God has implanted, we turn from "the warm
precincts of the cheerful day," and look into the grave, it is affecting
to see how the disease takes advantage of it, and sufferings ensue which
would have been prevented by keeping up even the ambiguous thoughts of
recovery. Sick people have reflections and feelings which exert an
influence upon them beyond our discernment, and which frequently need
not our literal interpretations of symptoms, and our exhortations, to
make them more effectual. But where there is evidently no preparedness
for death, and the patient, we fear, is deceiving himself, no one who
has suitable views of Christian duty will fail to impress him with the
necessity of attending to the things which belong to his peace, even at
considerable risk of abridging life.

Waiting, therefore, for medical discernment to signify when the last
possible effort to lengthen out the days of the sufferer had been made,
one morning I received the intimation that those days would, in all
probability, be but very few. After the physician had left the house,
and I had sought help and strength from God, I lost no time, but took my
place at the dear patient's side, to make the announcement.

God help those on whom he lays such duty. The hour had virtually come in
which father and child must part, and the father was to break that
message to his child. But how could mortal strength endure the effort?

Before I left my room for hers, there came to my mind these words--"But
now, thus saith the Lord that created thee, O Jacob, and he that formed
thee, O Israel, Fear not, for I have redeemed thee; I have called thee
by thy name; thou art mine. When thou passest through the waters, I will