During the revival of 1846, a little child of Dr. Perkins died; and
as the missionaries laid it away, in the hope of a glorious
resurrection, it helped them to point others to him who is the
Resurrection and the Life. It was buried on a snowy Sabbath day, and
the faces of the young converts, who stood in silence around the
grave, showed that to them the associations of death were no longer
fearful. Turning away from the cemetery, Mr. Stoddard, feeling that
he could not be separated from those young disciples even in death,
said, "Do you not hope that you shall rest here to rise with these
to everlasting life?"[1] Little did they who heard him know how soon
that cemetery at Seir would become more sacred as his own resting
place.
[Footnote 1: See Nestorian Biography, page 242.]
Before leaving this topic, we insert a letter from Sarah, daughter
of Joseph, a former pupil in the Seminary, and the oldest of four
sisters. The death of little Deborah seemed to draw her heart very
closely to her Saviour, and she now sleeps by her side, doubtless
understanding better the meaning of those arms of love that here she
believed "folded her little sister in his own bosom.
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