multiplied disappointments. My disposition is naturally so ardent, that I can enjoy nothing with moderation, so that I must either be totally indifferent to worldly objects, or else love them to such a degree as to render them idols; and then, of course, God must and will either imbitter or remove them. It is evident, therefore, that I must not expect worldly happiness; for perfect indifference to any object, or too much love for it, are equally incompatible with happiness; and these are the only two states of which I am capable. For this reason I fear ever to enter the marriage state, for I should most certainly love a wife too much or too little. I know not, however, whether I ought to regret this trait in my character, since, by cutting me off from other sources, it does, as it were, necessarily drive me to One whom I cannot love or serve too much, and compel me to place all my hopes in a future state.

"Since you complain that I did not tell you what my sickness has been, I will now inform you, lest you should suppose it worse than it was. It was an inflammation of the lungs and adjoining parts, attended for several weeks with extreme debility, sharp pain, restlessness, loss of appetite, difficulty of breathing, and an inability to converse for any time together. I should, I believe, have easily got over it, but I continued my labors much too long, hoping I should be able to drag along till warm weather, which, I trusted, would restore me. But after sacrament, when, by reason of the length of the services, I was so exhausted that I could scarcely sit in my chair, I was obliged to go out in a cold, raw evening, to converse and pray with a dying sailor, who had just found out that he

had a soul to save. The next day was a violent storm, in which I imprudently went out to visit some sick persons, and the day following was seized with a sharp pleuritic pain in my side. However, as it was lecture night, I was obliged to preach, which I got through with much pain and some difficulty, but was then constrained to give up. Still I believe my confinement would have been much shorter, had not persons continued to come and converse with me who were under concern. I could not find it in my heart to send them away, and the temporary exhilaration of spirits, which seeing them gave me, prevented me from finding out at first how much talking injured me, so that, for a long time, I lost much faster than I gained. But the sun seems to be a physician superior to all the doctors, and his warm beams, under God, have in a good measure restored me.

'Thus have I spent my health-an odious trick

'In making known how oft I have been sick.'

But if your patience is wearied, you must ascribe it to your own request, without which I should not have said a syllable on the subject."

The "inflammation," he observes in another letter, was brought on by speaking in hot rooms, and then going out into the cold evening air." His illness proved, on the whole, a serious one; and he was obliged not only to suspend preaching, but to leave the scene of his labors, before he could obtain relief. On the 27th of April he set out for his father's house, to try the effect of a journey and a country residence on his health. "In crossing a stream, whose bridge had been carried away, he was thrown from his horse and

thoroughly wet, so that he could proceed no faither." The next day, "after riding about ten miles, he was seized with the symptoms of a violent fever, and obliged to stop and take his bed." The third day he pursued his journey moderately, but "in much pain and weakness, fearing that his lungs had been much injured by his late accident." Before night of the fourth day he " was extremely exhausted." "Find," he says, "that a fever comes on at night, and goes off with sweats in the morning." The next day was the Sabbath, which he spent in Milford, "weak in body and mind. After meeting, which he attended both parts of the day, had some conversation with a universalist, but to little purpose." "May 2. Reached home, and was most kindly received. After the flow of spirits occasioned by seeing friends was over, found myself much exhausted with my journey."

For several days after his arrival he grew worse, till he "lost all strength and appetite," and was taken with a "hectic fever," as was then supposed, attended with night sweats and some cough. He gave up all hope of recovering, and felt willing to die; had no murmuring thought."

CHAPTER IX.

Resumes his pastoral labors—Letters-Review of the year.`

MR. PAYSON's absence from his people was prolonged to a period of more than two months. During this

time he endured much bodily suffering; but his resigcation, and his demeanor generally, were such as became a man professing godliness. He obtained no relief till near the close of this period, when he repaired to Boston for medical advice, by which he was encouraged to hope that he might again engage in preaching the Gospel. His church observed a day of fasting and prayer on his account during his absence. He set out on his return to them July 4th, not without "gloomy melancholy fears. The work appeared great, the obstacles insurmountable, and his strength nothing." Most of the information which could be collected respecting his circumstances for several succeeding months, is contained in letters that were written to nis parents and sister.

"Portland, Wednesday evening, July 6, 1808. "MY DEAREST PARENTS,

"When you see where and when this letter is dated, you will, I fear, be ready to exclaim, 'Imprudent boy! why will he not learn wisdom by experience?' But when you hear that no ill consequences have resulted from my haste, you will, I hope, pardon me. The truth is, when I got beyond the reach of the attraction of Rindge, which was not very soon, Portland began to draw with such irresistible force, that I found there would be no peace for me till I reached it. So, maugre my lame horse, who grew lamer and lamer every hour, I pressed on, and arrived here about six this afternoon. How it will be to-morrow I cannot tell; but at present I am perfectly well. and never was less fatigued by a journey in my life Mr. K. is out of town, attend

M. P.

14

ng an association, and my host, with his wife, is absent on a visit; so as yet I have seen nobody.

"Thursday morning.

"The crowd of anxious and interesting thoughts which engaged my mind on my return would not suffer me to rest much last night, and of course I feel rather languid this morning. Still, however, I never felt less inconvenience from such a journey. Mr.K. has just left me. He gives a discouraging account of the situation of religion. Several, whose convictions appeared to be of the right kind, have apparently lost them, and a general coldness seems to be prevailing.

"Thursday night.

"Perhaps you saw lately an account of a man who was tried here for murder. He was found guilty, and is now in prison. I went this afternoon to visit him, and was greatly shocked and afflicted by a view of the bolts, chains, and other guards against escape. The entrance to his dungeon was by a small square passage, through which I could but just crawl by stooping double, and it was secured by a very thick door of solid iron. It was, however, sufficiently light, sweet, and free from dampness. The criminal is a young, stout, well-looking man, as far removed as possible from the idea one is ready to form of a murderer. He said he felt guilty, and self-condemned before God, and felt the need of a Savior, and of a new heart, but knew not how to procure either of them. But he said this in a cold, unfeeling way. I shall see him again soon, for my own sake, as well as his. It is well calculated to make one admire and adore distinguishing grace, which