The Life and Letters of Elizabeth Prentiss | Page 7

weeks after their
engagement, will show the spirit which inspired him both as a lover
and a husband:
When I wrote my first letter after my late visit, I felt almost angry with
you and quite so with myself. And why angry with you? Because I
began to fear you would prove a dangerous rival to my Lord and
Master, and draw away my heart from His service. My Louisa, should
this be the case, I should certainly hate you. I am Christ's; I must be
Christ's; He has purchased me dearly, and I should hate the mother who
bore me, if she proved even the innocent occasion of drawing me from
Him. I feared that you would do this. For a little time the conflict of my
feelings was dreadful beyond description. For a few moments I wished
I had never seen you. Had you been a right hand, or a right eye, had
you been the life-blood in my veins (and you are dear to me as either) I

must have given you up, had I continued to feel as I did. But blessed be
God, He has shown me my weakness only to strengthen me. I now feel
very differently. I still love you dearly as ever, but my love leads me to
Christ and not from Him.
Dr. Payson received repeated invitations to important churches in
Boston and New York, but declining them all, continued in the
Portland pastorate until his death, which occurred October 22, 1827, in
the forty-fifth year of his age. The closing months of his life were
rendered memorable by an extraordinary triumph of Christian faith and
patience, as well as of the power of mind over matter. His bodily
suffering and agonies were indescribable, but, like one of the old
martyrs in the midst of the flames, he seemed to forget them all in the
greatness of his spiritual joy. In a letter written shortly after his death,
Mrs. Payson gives a touching account of the tender and thoughtful
concern for her happiness which marked his last illness. Knowing, for
example, that she would be compelled to part with her house, he was
anxious to have a smaller one purchased and occupied at once, so that
his presence in it for a little while might make it seem more home-like
to her and to her children after he was gone. "To tell you (she adds)
what he was the last six memorable weeks would be altogether beyond
my skill. All who beheld him called his countenance angelic." She then
repeats some of his farewell words to her. Begging that, she would "not
dwell upon his poor, shattered frame, but follow his blessed spirit to the
realms of glory," he burst forth into an exultant song of delight, as if
already he saw the King in His beauty! The well-known letter to his
sister Eliza, dated a few weeks before his departure, breathes the same
spirit. Here is an extract from it:
Were I to adopt the figurative language of Bunyan, I might date this
letter from the land of Beulah, of which I have been for some weeks a
happy inhabitant. The celestial city is full in my view. Its glories beam
upon me, its breezes fan me, its odors are wafted to me, its sounds
strike upon my ear, and its spirit is breathed into my heart. Nothing
separates me from it but the river of death, which now appears but as an
insignificant rill, that may be crossed at a single step, whenever God
shall give permission. The Sun of Righteousness has been gradually
drawing nearer and nearer, appearing larger and brighter as He
approached, and now He fills the whole hemisphere, pouring forth a

flood of glory, in which I seem to float like an insect in the beams of
the sun, exulting yet almost trembling while I gaze on this excessive
brightness, and wondering, with unutterable wonder, why God should
deign thus to shine upon a sinful worm. A single heart and a single
tongue seem altogether inadequate to my wants; I want a whole heart
for every separate emotion, and a whole tongue to express that emotion.
But why do I speak thus of myself and my feelings? why not speak
only of our God and Redeemer? It is because I know not what to
say--when I would speak of them my words are all swallowed up.
And thus, gazing already upon the Beatific Vision, he passed on into
glory. What is written concerning his Lord and Master might with
almost literal truth have been inscribed over his grave: _The zeal of
Thy house hath eaten me up._
* * * * *
II.
Birth and Childhood of Elizabeth Payson. Early Traits. Devotion to her
Father. His Influence