THE GOSPEL AN ANTIDOTE TO DEATH'S FEARS. 
 
 • m m 
 
 PREACHED IN THE 
 
 METHODIST CHURCHv CHAPEL HILL, 
 
 APRIL 1 8, 1856, 
 
 IN Mi:?.101iY OF 
 
 BY REV. H. T. HUDSON, 
 OF TEE HOETH OARCLIHA GO^^FESEIJCE. 
 
 RALEIGH: 
 
 A. M. GOilMAN, PRINTER — SPIRIT OF THE AGE OFFICE. 
 
 -1850. 
 
 ii 
 
 mm 
 
 Ii 
 
 m 
 
i 
 
THE GOSPEL AN ANTIDOTE TO DEATH'S FEAHS. 
 
 PREACHED IN THE 
 
 METHODIST CHURCH, CHAPEL HILL, 
 
 APRIL 13, 1856, 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 SIS. $mm iiiiiiii: 
 
 BY REV. H. T. HUDSON, 
 OF THE NOETH CAEOLINA CONFSIlErJCE. 
 
 RALEIGH: 
 
 A. M. GORMAN, PRINTER — SPIRIT OV TI OFFICE. 
 
 185G. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Rev. H. T. Hudsox : — Dear Brother — I sincerely desire a copy of 
 the very appropriate Sermon, delivered hy you in the M. E. Church, 
 on the 13th inst., in memory of my beloved companion, foi publication. 
 
 I hope you will find it convenient to comply with the earnest re- 
 quest of a brother deeply afflicted. 
 
 I wish to circulate a few copies of that Discourse among our relatives 
 and special friends, as an abiding memorial of one whose life was 
 cheerful and happy — beautifully consistent with the principles of the 
 Gospel — and whose death displayed in a most striking manner its 
 sufficiency to light up the " dark valley," and cause the tongue quiv- 
 ering in death to sing for joy. 
 
 Yours in Christian love, 
 
 L. S. BURKHEAD. 
 
 Chapel Hill, N. C, April 28, 1856. 
 
 Rev. L. S. Burkhead : — Bear Brother — Yours of the 28th inst. 
 has been received. In obedience to your earnest request, I send you 
 the Manuscript containing siibstaniially what was said in the Dis- 
 course. 
 
 Affectionatoly, H. T. HUDSON. 
 
 Chapel Hill, April 29, 1856. 
 
DISCOURSE 
 
 Forasmucli th&B. as the children are partakers of fie^h and blood, He also 
 himself lik°>wise took part of the same, that through death He might destroy 
 him that had the power of death, that is the devil. And deliver them, who 
 through fear of death were all their life-time subject to bondage." — Hebrews 
 11: 14, 15. 
 
 The text implies that d«ath is a fearful and dreadful 
 thing. It has been called the " king of terrors," in refer- 
 ence to the greatness of dread it produces on the human 
 race. Its approach makes the bravest crouch as a trembling 
 elaye, and the boldest quail with exceeding fear. It is not 
 the mere physical pain realized in the act of dying, that 
 clothes death with such startling fears. For often protrac- 
 ted illness paralizes the power of sensibility, so that the 
 consciousness of bodily suffering is gone,, and yet gloomy 
 fears hang -around the dying bed. Thus we see that in the 
 .absence of all conscious physical suffering, the spirit is frigh- 
 teiaed as the cold shadow of death darkens its sun of life. — 
 There must be something besides the mere pain of ^dying, 
 that gives death power to enslave man in the bondage of fear. 
 
 " The dread of something after death, 
 
 The undiscovered country from whose bourne 
 
 No traveler returns — puzzles the will," 
 
 and chills the heart with undefinable fears. 
 
 It is not wonderful, that death should hold man in the 
 bondage of fear, hoAvever, though nothing after death puzzled 
 the will. For what power has death to break up the avoca^ 
 tions of men ? At its bidding, the servant ceases to toil for 
 his master — the farmer to sow his seed for harvest — the me- 
 chanic to wield his hammer for family sustenance. Its im- 
 perious voice calls the teacher from his chair of instruction — 
 the lawyer from the bar — the judge from the bench — the 
 statesman from the legislative hall — the orator from the 
 rostrum, vocal with charming eloquence — the preacher from 
 the pulpit, luminous with heavenly radiance. At its light- \ 
 ning touch, the historian drops his recording pen — the func- 
 tionary his ermine— the warrior his banner — the king his 
 ruling sceptre — the tree of humanity its loveliest flowers — - 
 
4 
 
 the firmament of Christianity its brightest stars. Whatever* 
 has such power as this, must be fearful to mankind. The. 
 advent of death is irresistible — its time vailed ir^ the deepesl^ 
 obscurity — its mission is to level all — 
 
 " The sceptred king, the Lurthened slave. 
 
 The hurablo, and the haughty die, 
 The rich, the poor, the base, the brave, 
 
 In dust vrithout distinction lie." f 
 
 And by these, death holds men in the bondage of fear. — • 
 Death, with his battle-axe cleaves the soul and body asunder ^ 
 lays the latter in the " deep, damp vault" to slumber ia 
 companionship with rayless darkness, loathsome worms, and. 
 despatches the former on a lonely journey into the limitless, 
 continent of eternity, to be everlastingly happy, or miserable. 
 
 It is not at all strange, then, that men should fear death. 
 There is ample reason for this fear. But the text tells us, 
 that Christ assumed the nature of man to deliver those, 
 " -rho, through fear of death were all their life-time subject 
 to bondage." In other words, the text teaches the doctriney 
 that the Grospel strips death of all its fears — rohs sin of its- 
 sting — divests death of its dreads^ and the grave of its^ 
 victory. So that the believer is delivered from all those 
 things that make death painful. 
 
 In fine, the Goapel of Christ swallows up death in victory. 
 
 This will appear in considering th© grounds Qf fearing 
 death, and how completely the Gospel removes these grounds. 
 
 1. Death is fearful^ because it is a penalty of sin. "The 
 sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law." — 
 Thus we see that the dart of death is fearful, because pointed 
 with the venom of sin. Sin makes death bite like a madn 
 dcned serpent, and sting like a poisonous adder. Death, 
 finding man, under the condemnation of the law, brings up, 
 his past sinSj '^terrible as an army with banners," to alarm,, 
 and driving arrows of deep remorse, points with his bony- 
 finger to the horrors of the second death as. the soul's sure- 
 destiny. No wonder death is feared, coming with these 
 horrrors to seize the sinner. 
 
 But to the believer, the Gospel brings deliverance fronii ^ 
 this ground of fear. His siii is pardoned, ai;id so the sting ^ 
 of death is extracted. Th,ere is no condemnation of the 
 law abiding upon him. No past sins to rise up and con-_ 
 dcmn — no biting remorse to torment — no gloomy forebodings 
 to dread. He is sheltered in Christ. " There is therefore 
 now no condemnation to them who are in Christ Jecus, wha 
 \Yalk not after the flesh,, but after the spirit. J^or the la,w 
 
5 
 
 the spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from 
 the law of sin and death." Thus we see that the spirit of 
 the gospel makes us free from the law of sin and death. — 
 " The righteous hath hope in his death, and this hope maketh 
 not ashamed 5 because the love of God is shed abroad in the 
 heart by the Holy Ghost." With the pleasing sense of 
 pardoning love abiding in the heart, the dying believer tri- 
 umphs over death, exclaiming, " I death, where is thy 
 sting ? ! grave, where is thy victory ?" 
 
 This triumph over death is often clearly exemplified on 
 the death-bed of Christians. We will give a few cases. — 
 Mr. Wesley, on his dying bed, exclaimed, "The best of all 
 is, God is with us." Dr. Goodwin, when dying so peace- 
 fully, asked : Is this dying ? How have I dreaded .as an 
 enemy this smiling friend." The Rev. Thomas Scott v^^as 
 so happy while dying as to say : " This is heaven begun — 
 satan is vanquished — nothing now remains but salvation with 
 eternal glory." The pious Dr. Payson, on his dying pillow, 
 exclaimed : " God is in this room. I see him ; and oh ! how 
 lovely is the sight ; how glorious does he appear ; worthy of 
 ten thousand hearts, if I had so many to give." Soon after 
 this, when the clammy sweat of death was gathering upon his 
 brow, he exclaimed, like a victorious warrior, fresh from the 
 field of triumph : " The baitle is fought I and victory is won 
 forever,'''' And then uttered the following sentences, so full 
 of pathos and inspiring eloquence : " The celestial city is 
 fully in view — -its glories beam upon me — its breezes fan me — 
 its odors are wafted to tclq — its music strikes my ear, and its 
 spirit breathes into my heart ; nothing separates me from 
 it, but the river of death.^ which now appears as a narrow 
 rill, which may be crossed at a single step, whenever God 
 gives permission." These examples show how completely 
 and gloriously the fear of death is swallowed up in the vic- 
 tory won by the Gospel. And here the glory of Christianity 
 is seen in armoring the christian with such power as to con- 
 quer death-, that had led the world as a chained captive to 
 his bloody chariot, rolling victoriously over the mightiest 
 conquerors of earth. But now death, the defiant conqueror 
 of all conqerors, is led the chained captive to the wheels of 
 the christian's chariot. " Thanks be unto God, who givcth 
 us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ." 
 
 2. . Death is fearful^ deeaicse it has poiuer to destroy the 
 body. The disease paling the cheek of health, distempering 
 the body, palsying an active limb, yet not threatening life, 
 is feared. But death batters down the physical man — the 
 
6 
 
 beautiful and tv'ondrous i^fisidence of the intelligent spirit is 
 crushed to dust under its ponderous blow. This walking 
 palace of the soul, so lovely in charming beauty, so admira- 
 ble in divine workmanship, so versatile in active exertion, 
 with its eye-windows flashing the ethereal fires of the soul, 
 and its tireless tongue of song and eloquence, must crumble 
 to its original dust, and become so loathsome as to be hid in 
 the grave, to keep it from offending the living. Death works 
 all this ruin, and hence is feared. 
 
 But the Gospel removes this ground of fear in its clearly 
 revealed doctrine of a glorious resurrection. 
 
 " For the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be 
 raised incorruptible. For this corruptible must put oil in- 
 corruption, and this mortal must put on immortality." 
 
 The Lord shall change our vile body, that it may be 
 fashioned like unto His glorious body." 
 
 What though this body lies in its dusty bed, vdthout form 
 or comeliness, shorn of all former strength, robbed of all its 
 living charms, yet the Almighty power of God shall raise it 
 up at the last day, and it shall stand forth, girded w-th the 
 strength of immortality, beaming in the perfection of fade- 
 less beauty, and shining in the heavenly splendor of Christ's 
 glorified body. 
 
 Why, then, should the christian fear the grave, when it is 
 but the attiring ro^m for defective mortals to put on the per- 
 fective glory of an ever blooming immortality ? 
 
 Why dread it, when it is the consecrated chamber for 
 i'edeemed humanity to array herself in the bridal robes of 
 celestial livery, to be a fit companion to associate with the 
 beauteous tenantry of the upper world ? 
 
 Thus we see that this fear is swallowed in victory. 
 
 3. Death is fearful; because it ends onans prohatiov, and 
 ushers him into the immedisite pi^esence of God. On the 
 separation of soul and body, the latter goes to its dust, and 
 the former to God. " Then shall the dust return to the 
 earth as it was, and the spirit shall return unto God, who 
 gave it." Here, we see, that death introduces the soul into 
 the immediate presence of God. 
 
 Man feels emotions of fear on entering into a strange 
 country, whose customs, laws and inhabitants are all new. — 
 But these emotions must be vastly increased, when the lonely 
 spirit wings its way into that ^' undiscovered country from 
 whose bourne no traveler returns," to give local tidings to 
 others, and into the holy presence of Him, whose spotless 
 purity causes seraphim to cry, " Holy, holy, holy, is the 
 
7 
 
 Lord of Hosts," whose smile lights up heaven with imperish- 
 able glory, whose frown is the darkness which shrouds hell 
 in its endless gloom. This fear haunts the departing spirit 
 of the dying sinner. A noted infidel said when dying : "I 
 make a leap in the dark." What painful doubt shrouded 
 his mind ! Socrates, the prince of Grecian Philosophers, 
 found lib sure ground to rest upon from all his philosophy, 
 when dying. He said to weeping friends : " I am going to 
 die, and yon to live; which is best I know not." But the 
 gospel removes this ground of dread from the Christian's 
 mind, by a strict assurance of meeting a reconciled Father 
 in eternity. 
 
 The Christian has been already taught to say " Abba Fath- 
 er.'^ He goes to God as a dutiful child goes to a loving father, 
 being assured beforehand of meeting the welcome greeting, 
 " Well done, thou good and faithful servant, ^nter into the 
 joy of thy Lord'* 
 
 This pleasing assurance of a happy admission into God's 
 immediate presence is forcibly expressed by St. Paul, when 
 standing on the brink ef the eternal world : I am now ready 
 to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand ; I 
 kave fought a good fight ; I have finished my course ; I have 
 kept the faith : Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown 
 of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall 
 give me at that day, and not to me only, but unto all them 
 also, that love His appearing." How triumphant this assu- 
 rance of bein^ crowned an heir of eternal life on his arrival 
 to God. 
 
 4. Death is fearful ; because it banishes man from his 
 earthly home. Banishment from one's native country is 
 considered a sufficient punishment for certain crimes. — 
 Exile is even dreaded, when it is only a migration from one 
 part of the earth to another, with the hope of future return. 
 But the decree of death banishes the sinful spirit from its 
 beautiful home into "utter darkness," where there is "weep- 
 ing, wailing and gi^asliing of teeth," without the faintest 
 hope of return. 
 
 Men have strsng attachments to this earth, as it is their 
 home of love, enjoyment and active life. They love to tread 
 •the green earth — to see its blooming vales — its towering 
 mountains — its broad rivers and heaving "seas — its bright 
 sun, silvery moon and twinkling stars. 
 
 But death exiles them from this pleasant abode, and sin 
 banishes tJhe unpardoned into ^^outer darkness,'' wh^re no mn 
 glitters — ^no star sparkles — no fragrant flower blossoms — ^no 
 
8 
 
 splendid cities hum with the song of mirth, but all is deep 
 darkness and dreary void. Hence, men fear death on this 
 account. But the gospel opens to the Christian a lovelier 
 country, a fairer land of pure delight, whose celestial beauty 
 was but faintly typed in the beautiful Eden first prepared 
 for man ; whose riches were but dimly adumbrated in the 
 Jewish Canaan ; and whose imperishable splendors but 
 partially disclosed in the apocalyptic vision. There, the 
 New Jerusalem, " prepared as a bride adorned for her hus- 
 band," stands with its Jasper walls, its golden streets, its 
 pearly gates, its tree of life waving in eternal freshness, its 
 pure river clear as chrystal flowing to beautify the inhabi- 
 tants. There the out-beaming glory of God scatters night 
 away, and lights up the city with meridian splendor. For 
 "the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to 
 shine in it ; for the glory of God did lighten it, and the 
 Lamb is the light thereof." This prospect of a better home 
 causes the christian to ever rejoice at death banishing him 
 from his earthly dwelling place. For here is consoling com- 
 fort in these words of his Saviour : " Let not your heart be 
 troubled ; ye believe in God, believe also in Me. In my 
 Father's house are many mansions ; if it were not so, I would 
 have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I 
 go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive 
 you unto Myself, that where I am, there ye may be also."^ 
 Why, then, should the christian fear death's banishment,- 
 when it is but a banishment from the wilderdess of sin to the 
 paradise of holiness ? When it is but an exile from a leaky 
 cabin to a princely palace — a removal from a crumbling 
 cottage to a bright mansion built by divine power and filled 
 with di\ane glory. 
 
 5. Death is fearful ; because it sejmrates man from society, 
 Man is naturally a social being, and much of his happiness 
 is bound up in congenial companionship. A certain one 
 remarks, that solitude is fit for no one but a mad-man, or a 
 God who has an eternal self-sufiSciency within the bounds of 
 his own nature. The remark is forcible. A man in absolute 
 solitude must draw his happiness from the well within, which 
 is soon exhausted without any channel of replenishing. Of 
 course he must be miserable. Death separating the un- 
 godly from family relatives, friendly neighbors and pleasant 
 companions, is feared, because of this snai^'ping of living 
 ties. But the christian has nothing to fear. True there is 
 a separation from his christian companions, but this is only 
 temporary. The dying saint goes just a little in advance of 
 his fellow companions. 
 
9 
 
 tf all his friends are christians, they tvill meet him er^ 
 long; if not, he loses nothing hy the separation. The chris- 
 tian society is a great army marching to the celestial Canaan. 
 Some of this army have crossed the Jordan of death, and 
 entered safely the land of promise. Others are yet in the 
 wilderness, but the same God who led the home-landed 
 pilgrims in safety and triumph, will bring tip those in the 
 wilderness in due time, to join the blood-washed throngs with 
 songs of deliverance and greetings of renewed friendship. — 
 Besides all this, the departed saint forms new companions 
 of the purest character. He leaves weeping companions on 
 this side of Jordan who will follow soon, but he does not go 
 into a desert to sit in solitary loneliness till they arrive ; but 
 goes "unto the citj of the living God, the heavenly Jeru- 
 salem, and an innumerable company of angels : To the gen- 
 eral assembly and church of the first born, which are written 
 in heaven, and to God, the Judge of all, and to the spirits 
 of just men made perfect, and to Jesus, the Mediator of the 
 new covenant/' Thus v/e see, that the temporary separation 
 from a few earthly friends is infinitely compensated by the 
 happy privilege of joining the shining hosts of holy angels, 
 of glorified saints, of seeing God '-face to face" in His un- 
 folding glory, of beholding Jesus " as he is, the fairest among 
 ten thousand, the one altogether lovely," of sitting down 
 with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the deep repose of eternal 
 rest. 
 
 6. Finally, dealifi is feared ; because it deprives men of 
 their pleasures. The wine-bibber is forced from his intoxi- 
 cating cups, the money-grasping miser is divorced from his 
 gold idol, the swinish epicurean no longer sits around the 
 festive board of luxurious dainties, the fame seeker hears no 
 more the thundering applause, so musical to his ever-listening 
 ear. All earthly pleasures fledge and fly away at the ap- 
 proach of death. Men may carry their passions to desire, 
 their appetites to rage, their thirsts to pant, with them into 
 eternity, but the means of gratification are removed forever. 
 
 The rich man was clothed in purple and fared sumptuously 
 every day in this world, but death dislodged him from his 
 comforts, and fixed his abode in hell ; and he cried for vv'ater 
 to cool his tongue, but was answered : Remember, that thou 
 in thy life-time receivedst thy good things, and likewise 
 Lazarus evil things ; hut noiv he is comforted and thou art 
 tormented.'" 
 
 Here we see, that the ungodly are deprived of all their 
 pleasures by death, while the godly are taken to higher, 
 
10 
 
 nobler, sublimer pleasures. Hence, the sinful have just 
 ground to fear death, while the righteous are delivered from 
 this fear by the blessings of the gospel. The christian loses 
 no happiness by death, but gains deeper, purer and greater 
 bliss. "For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain^' says 
 St. Paul. By living he spreads the glory of Christ over the 
 earth, but by dying he enters upon the blessed enjoyment of 
 that " inheritance, which is incorruptible, undefiled and 
 fadeth not away." " Blessed are the dead who die in the 
 Lord, from henceforth : yea saith the spirit, that they may 
 rest from their labors." 
 
 Joys on earth are imperfect as to quality, mingled with 
 many grains of alloy, tinged with the dark hues of melan- 
 ancholy. They are fleeting as to duration — fleeing at the 
 touch of disappointment, withering under the breath of every 
 disease, embittered constantly by sin's seductive influence. 
 They are limited in quantity^ — leaving many deep cells of the 
 soul unfilled, which are but aching voids of restlessness. — 
 But on dying, the christian " enters into the joy of Ms Lord," 
 where there is fullness of joy. For we are told, " In thy 
 presence is fullness of joy, at thy right hand are pleasures 
 ^ forevermore." Here is fullness of joy for the departed saint. 
 Every capacity of the soul is full to overflowing. No aching 
 voids, no empty cells, no unsatisfied wants, but all full of 
 pure blessedness. In tJiy presence is fullness of joj and no- 
 where else. There joys float upon every breeze, grow upon 
 every tree, roll in every stream, chaunt in^very song, beam 
 in every eye, bound in every heart. And these joys are 
 not mingled with the ingredients of sorrow, but are such as 
 spring from the holy presence of God ; chaste, pure, spiritual 
 joys, swelling up in fullness from the Divine Throne, and 
 flowing as a " pure river clear as crystal," to gladden with 
 morning freshness and evergreen verdure the wide extended 
 plains of immortal life. And again, they are " pleasures 
 evermore'' — eternal in duration. Not like the flowers bloom- 
 ing to-day on the mountain side, and to-morrow lie withered 
 and strewn, but more lasting than the mountain itself. Not 
 like the rainbow bending its beautiful arch one hour, and 
 then vanishing ; but they will be fresh, bright and glorious, 
 when sun, moon and stars have ceased to glitter. Celestial 
 glory is their quality— divine fullness their quantity, and 
 eternity their duration. 
 
 Why then, should the christian fear to give up the rill of 
 pleasure here, when he goes to the deep, clear ocean of hap- 
 piness ? Why fear to give up the crumbs here, when he is 
 
11 
 
 iadmit'ted as a g^iest to the great supper of the Lamb, 
 spread in its rich fullness in heaven ? Why fear to give up 
 the gleanings in the field of time, when the ripe, vast and 
 waving harvest of eternal life invites him to put in his sickle 
 and reap "joys unspeakable and full of glory V We see 
 then that while death removes the sinner from all his pleas- 
 ures, it only opens the gate to the christian to that beauteous 
 World of everlasting bliss : 
 
 " Where the rivers of pleasure^ flow o'er the bright plains, 
 
 And the noontide of glory eternally reigns ; 
 
 Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet, 
 
 Their Saviour and brethren, transporter to greet ; 
 
 While anthems of rapture unceasingly roll, 
 
 And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul.'' 
 
 Having discussed the main principles of the text, we now 
 take pleasure in giving a brief memoir of our departed Sister, 
 whose death called forth the sermon. The rich consolation 
 of the text was ei\]oyed by our departed sister. She realized 
 the blessed experience of conquering death — of fearing no 
 evil while passing " through the dark valley and shadow of 
 death." The comforting doctrine of a glorious resurrection — ■ 
 of meeting a smiling Father in heaven — of entering a celestial 
 home so bright and beautiful — of meeting there and rejoining 
 separated and beloved friends — of enjoying there the riches 
 of eternal life, were solid grounds of happiness and great 
 peace to her, whien all earthly stays had been removed by 
 death. But to be more definite about the character of our 
 departed sister. We will state something of her pious life 
 and happy death. The narative shall be plain and brief, 
 giving only some of the characteristics of her purity in life, 
 and triumph in death : Sarah G. Burkhead, the daughter 
 of Grey and Eliza Utley, residents of Chapel Hill, Orange 
 County, N. C, was born the 21st of June, 1838. Her 
 parents are pious members of the M. E. Church, who had the 
 pleasing testimony from her dying lips, that they had raised 
 her in those religious principles, that made her life useful 
 and her dying moments happy. The highest consolation that 
 parents can have from their children, is to know that they 
 lived well, and died with a good hope of heaven. This, the 
 |)arents of our departed friend have in a high degree. Mrs. 
 Burkhead made a profession of religion when but twelve 
 years old. Her conversion was clear and satisfactory. She 
 grew in grace and the knowledge of Jesus Christ." Ever 
 punctual in her religious duties, she was happy in the enjoy- 
 ment of that Christianity, which always yields its harvest of 
 
12 
 
 peaceable fruits to those who cultivate it with a dilige'nt hand,' 
 and embrace its doctrines with an undivided heart. Unlike' 
 too many professors, around the table of whose heart the 
 Saviour is as a poor Lazarus, getting but the crumbs of 
 affection, while the world — the rich man — fares sumptuously 
 every day, she gave the richest of her heart's treasures to 
 her Redeemer. The legitimate fruits of such fixedness of 
 purpose, lively devotion in service and punctuality in duty, 
 were ''love, joy, peace, long suffering, gentleness, goodness 
 and meekness," displayed in all her relations of life. In 
 1854, August 31, she was married by Prof. A. M. Shipp, to 
 Rev. L. S. Burkhead, of the N. C. Conference. In this 
 sphere of life, she showed those excellencies that make the 
 wife "a help meet" and "a crown to her husband." That 
 tender love that makes tke pathway of married life and the 
 desert of domestic affliction " rejoice and blossom as the 
 rose^' — that makes the "dark side of life" sunny with joy 
 and its mute harps vocal with soothing music, flowed co- 
 piously from her heart sanctified with the spirit of piety to 
 cheer her husbaiid's heart and sweeten his arduous toils. — = 
 What is peculiarly beautiful in this deep, ardent affection, is 
 its sweet blending with Christianity. Love always makes the 
 wife as lovely and fragrant as blossoms do the tree, but when 
 it is refined and heightened by the gospel, it is then it adorns 
 her with the fairer beauty and richer fragrance of the flowers 
 of paradise. 
 
 In her correspondence, (to which we have access in com- 
 posing the memoir) we find some passages glowing "vtith love 
 sanctified by the gospel. As the following : " My own 
 one, I am happy in the reflection that I can unbosom my 
 whole heart to you ; and know that your warm and affection- 
 ate heart sympathises and rejoices with mine in all things. 
 What a pleasure ! Religion has imrjjied and exalted our 
 love. Who would not he a Christian f The following 
 extracts shows how her loving leart leaned upon God as the 
 great stay of repose in imcertain matters. She says : "I 
 leGir your health is declining. But why shoilld I fear ? Will 
 not our kind Heavenly Father take care of you ? I some- 
 times feel sad about your condition, but then something tells 
 me ' all will be for the best.' I hope so. I will feel easy 
 about you. I would not do anything if I knew it to give you 
 one gloom}^ thought. We are in the hands of God." How 
 strong her love, yet who does not admire the faith that guides 
 and sanctifies it as something of greater power ? 
 
 But what was so commendable in her character as a wife, 
 
13 
 
 ^^as her ready cheerfulness to co-operate with her husband 
 in advancing the cause of Christianity. Such are the stern 
 difficulties in itinerant life, that our preachers need all the 
 encouragement that can be given them to make them perse- 
 vere therein. When the strong influence of a beloved wife 
 favors the itinerant, how much lighter is the burden made — 
 how much smoother the road — how much longer the work- 
 man labors. But if the traveling preacher does not find a 
 ready co-operation from his wife, but feels draw-backs hang 
 around his neck by the soft fingers of wifely affection, how 
 heavy the burden — how rough the road, and how many, alas, 
 seek repose in location. But our departed sister threw no 
 impediments in the way of the husband's calling, but sent 
 fervent prayers to heaven for God's help, and with a hearty 
 good will went whither he went, to co-operate in the holy 
 cause of religion. Her cheerful going and constant praying 
 were wings to lift him over the chasms and hills of itinerant 
 life, and enable him to soar high in usefulness. How worthy 
 of imitation in this co-operation. How often is the preacher's 
 stream of usefulness turned into the stagnant pool of location 
 ]3y the wife's reluctance to travel at the sacrifice of domestic 
 ease, that would by her cheerful consent flow on through 
 the continent of half of a century, making its vallies yield 
 annual harvests of gospel fruit. Let the sad experience of 
 the past apologize for what we say on this point, and the 
 lesson here taught be put on record for the edification of 
 others. We will give a few extracts from her letters written, 
 to her husband when he was hesitating, because of precarious 
 health, whether to take work or not, and had written to her 
 for advice. She responds : " My dear, I do not know how 
 tQ advise you. I feel my incompetency. But one thing let 
 me say ; I would not be one moment's hindrance to you in 
 your work. Where thou goest there will I go cheerfully 
 and gladly. I am your wife, and it is my duty to comfort 
 and help you in your labor of love. Do what you believe to 
 be your duty to God, who is ever mindful of his children." 
 Again sbe writes : " My dear, I feel for you so much. I know 
 your situation. It is hard for you to decide in regard to taking 
 work next year. You want to do right, I know, and God forbid 
 that I should say one word against it, God only can direct you. 
 Every time I bow before the Throne of Grace I humbly pray that 
 the Good Being may direct you, by His wisdom, in the path of 
 ^uty. My dear husband, dearly as I love you, I feel that we 
 ought to sacrifice all for God, — ^yea, even life itself. Apply to 
 Him for counsel, and then walk according to the promptings of 
 your own heart, directed hy His providence. I will;, as long as I 
 
14 
 
 can utter a single word, unite with you at a Throne of Grace in 
 beseeching G-od to direct you in every time of darkness and trial. 
 And I feel and know that He will do by us what is right. My 
 heart is much drawn out in prayer, and I feel that I intend to live 
 more holy. Be cheerful; look to God for comfort and guidance, 
 and work for Him while strength and life endures.'' 
 
 "Who does not admire the rich vein of piety nmning through 
 these letters — the trustful dependence on God — the wise counsel 
 given, and her readiness to co-operate with her husband to promote 
 the cause of religion ? Her amiable spirit and pleasing manners 
 won for her warm-hearted friends wherever she was known. The 
 very large concourse of people, composed of all classes, that 
 attended her funeral, and expressed their sympathy in tears, is 
 clear evidence of her worthiness and estimable standing in her 
 native village. Letters of condolence from abroad to her husband 
 show what a favorable impression she made during her brief career 
 through society, as the wife of a traveling preacher. We give 
 one or two extracts : 
 
 ''J/j/ ajjlicted hrotlier : I cannot describe my feelings to you on 
 reading Sister Bui-khead's death in the paper. She was one of 
 those dear ones who could not be known without being loved. 
 Though my acquaintance with her was short, yet she was dearly 
 loved by me, and her memory I shall ever cherish with the fondest 
 recollection.'' 
 
 Her former instructor gives the following testimonial of her 
 worth : Yours, indeed, is no common loss. I knew your de- 
 parted companion well. She was once a beloved pupil of mine. 
 Nature had endowed her with a dear head and a A-uid hearty 
 which grace sanctified. She possessed, in a high degree, candor, 
 affability and benevolence, with a sweetness of temper that scarcely 
 knew a ruffle. But she has gone I The puidty of her life and 
 the peacefulness of her death is your consolation." 
 
 JS^dr triumpJianf death claims our attention next. During her 
 protracted and painful illness, she exhibited sweet submissiveness 
 to the Divine will, and displayed great Christian fortitude in her 
 complicated sufferings. She died of puerperal fever, complicated 
 with pneumonia. On the day of her death, Bro. Shipp and my- 
 self visited her. We found her calmly composed. He approached 
 her with encouraging words, in which he referred to the "precious 
 Saviour." She responded feelingly, "'Jesus is always precious, 
 and especially in the hour of death." Soon after, she began to 
 ging in a distinct voice, " This world is not my home.'' when her 
 eyes beamed with a heavenly lustre and deep composure, before 
 dying she called for her lovely baby, (about five weeks old,) and 
 imprinted her last affectionate kiss upon his cheek, dedicating him 
 to God. She prayed fervently that God would take care of him. 
 She then called around her dying bed her beloved husband, 
 father, mother and sisters, and kissing them affectionately, ex- 
 horted earnestly that they should be resigned to Grod's will in 
 
15 
 
 taking lier away, and meet her in heaven. Thus departed our 
 beloved sister, leaving evidence of clear and unmistakeable ripe- 
 ness for the celestial world. It was refreshing and strengthening 
 to witness her triumph over death. Her triumphant victory over 
 death, as we saw it with our own eyes, argued more potently the 
 truth of Christianity, than book logic, and preached more thril- 
 lingly eloquent the transcendent worth of piety, than pulpit ora- 
 tory. In her happy death we saw verified the saying, Death is 
 swallowed up in victory." ^^0, death, where is thy sting? 0, 
 grave ! where is thy victory?" " Thanks be to Grod, which giveth 
 us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ." Therefore, my 
 beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, unmovable, always abounding 
 in the work of the Lord." Such triumphs of the Gospel in the 
 hour of death, seen in lifting the soul above the fear of the 
 king of terrors," and linking it forever to Him who is the inex- 
 haustible fountain of eternal life, the everlasting strength of the 
 dependent universe, and the shoreless ocean of pure blessedness, 
 are eminently fitted to make the faith of the surviving steadfast," 
 their confidence "unmovable" in the Lord, and their work abound- 
 ing in Christian life. Such was the influence of our sister's death 
 upon those witnessing it. So that Christ was glorified both in her 
 life and death. She has gone to rest, leaving to the world the 
 rich legacy of a good example and a triumphant death. As a 
 neighbor she was kind and charitable, as a friend open in candor 
 and warm in attachment, as a daughter loving and dutiful, as a 
 sister amiable and afi'ectionate, as a wife pleasant in manners, fer- 
 vently devoted in afi"ection, intelligent in companionship, always 
 studious to make her husband happy, and cheerfully gave up the 
 charms of settled life to make him useful in the itinerant field. 
 May this sore bereavement be sanctified to his good and the wel- 
 fare of her grief-stricken family. We know the loss of our be- 
 loved brother is irreparable, and that his heart lies desolate and 
 shattered under the heavy stroke of affliction ; yet we are happy 
 to know that he bears it with Christian fortitude and becoming 
 submission. 
 
16 
 
 The foilowing beautiful lines were read by Prof, Shipp and 
 sung by the congregation at the close of the sermon. She made 
 reference to them on her dying bed^ was very fond of singing 
 them with her sisters, and doubtless thought them expressive of 
 her sorrowing sisters' ardent love for her : 
 
 Sister, thou wast mild jind lovely — 
 
 Gentle as the summer breeze — 
 Pleasant as the air of evening 
 
 When it floats among the trees. 
 
 Peaceful be thy silent slumber, 
 
 Peaceful in the grave so low : 
 Thou no more wilt join our number — 
 
 Thou no more our songs shalt know. 
 
 Pearest sister, thou hast left us ! 
 
 Here thy loss we deeply feel ; 
 But -'tis God that hath bereft us ; 
 
 He can all our sorrow heal. 
 
 Yet again we hope to meet thee 
 
 When the day of life is fled ; 
 Then, in heaven, with joy to greet thee, 
 
 Where no farewell tear is shed. 
 
 Ml