in some measure discharged its sorrows, the remembrance of a well-spent life, the blessings of HIM that was ready to perish, the contemplation of a promising and flourishing progeny; and, above all, the blessed hope of salvation through the merits of a Redeemer, may yet lead you to own, with devout resignation, "that, tho' weeping may endure for a night, yet joy cometh in the morning." Yes, in the blessed morning of the resurrection it will come, to all "who have tasted that God is gracious." That you, dear Sir, may be among that happy number, is the sincere wish, and earnest of affectionate and truly symprayer, your I HAVE received your letter, and thank you for the particulars (sad as they are) 4 which from which it contains. I do indeed pity you my very soul. And now, even now, after the heavy tribute is paid, and the grave has actually closed on the object of so much affection, admiration, and sorrow; both Mary and I have a difficulty to persuade our hearts and imaginations of the reality of what has happened. It seems somehow as if so much life could not die; as if a person so active, and who occupied so conspicuous a place on the theatre of existence, could not thus suddenly, thus prematurely, be withdrawn from it. It is a melancholy gratification to the surviving friends of characters of such distinction, that their departure gives a kind of electric shock to the sphere in which they moved; and that they live to memory long, long after the vulgar dead are swallowed in oblivion. Besides the more solid and rational consolations I formerly mentioned to you, all that public sympathy and extensive celebrity can give, are yours. The views of a future world, the vast conceptions that distend the mind, when by the aid of faith (even on this side time). "Death seems swallowed up in immortality," tality," these are the sure and lasting refuge; yet the weakness of suffering mortality naturally lays hold of every aid on which the agonized mind can for a moment repose itself. This is pardonable; for He, who ordained that we should suffer and should mourn, has also so made us, that a general sense of the value and importance of our loss prevailing around us, is to us a kind of temporary consolation. Mrs. Macintosh's fortitude, in bearing her loss, and the steady and affecting retrospect she took of her beloved child's talents and virtues, from their early blossom to full maturity, is just what I should have expected from a mind like hers, so strong, and yet so tender. To her this letter should have been addressed, but that I supposed she would scarce, in her present weak state, be permitted to read it. I do not wonder that every thing that belonged to the late extinguished light, should, by those who had the happiness of her friendship, be considered as relics. Her intimacies and attachments lying among those whose abilities and attainments did honour to the sex, there is no doubt doubt but her memory will be honoured, and adored, as such a memory ought. May the Divine aid, and peculiar blessing, also be with you in this day of trial, like a rainbow on the cloud, to shew that He will not utterly destroy. Wherever I am at present, and whatever doing, my imagination is at Dunchattan; no more, alas! the refuge of distress, or the haunt of social cheerfulness and domestic comfort.Write, dear Sir, to me, who am interested in every thing, and to whom you can express your feelings without restraint. O, if your dear friend and mine can be for a moment detached from sickness and sorrow, to remember the absent, the affectionate, and the afflicted, tell her, the sympathy that at this moment fills my heart and eyes, is very deep and very tender. What would not do to help her, if I could! All past kindness rises in review before me. O, what a foreboding agony seized me the day I parted with her. I have said too much; but I have done. Providence is every day raising up new friends to me; but they are distant and unknown, and never can replace the old, no never! I have wandered, in the fulness of my heart, from my first purpose. Tho' I doubt not unworthy of the subject, this faint memorial of departed excellence will be a proof that I have mourned with those friends in adversity, who formerly gladden'd me with the beams of their prosperity. Occupy yourself, dear Sir, with writing to me and to others. May you be supported in this great conflict, and spiritually improved by it! So prays your sincere and sympathising friend, ANNE GRANT. FINIS. Printed by Luke Hanfard & Sons, |