b'# LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, j \n\n# \xe2\x80\x94 t- \n\n{UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.} \n\n\n\n\\ \n\n\n\n\nCapt. WM. E. SEES. \n\n\n\nCONVERSION \n\n\n\nOF \n\n\n\nCaptain WILLIAM E. SEES. \n\n\n\nHAEEISBUEG, PA. \n\n\n\n\nPHILADELPHIA: \nLUTHERAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, \n\n42 NORTH NINTH STREET. \n\n1 86 7. \n\n\n\nThe Electrotype Plate and Wood Cut of this little volume \nwere furnished by the liberality of the Sunday School \nChildren of the First English Evangelical Lutheran Church, \nHarrisburg, Pa. \n\n\n\nEntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1267, I y \nThe Lutheran Publication Boaed, \nin the Clerk\'s Office of the District Court, for the Eastern District \nof Pennsylvania. \n\n\n\nJas. B. Rodgees, \nElectrotyper and Printer, \nPhiladelphia. \n\n\n\nlie Me Sri jjjsrra. \n\n\n\nThe following unpretending narrative has been pre- \npared at the request of one of the Superintendents of \nthe Sunday-school connected with the First English \nLutheran Church of Harrisburg, Pa., and as a testi- \nmonial of affection for the noble-hearted Christian \nbrother whose conversion it describes. \n\nMay its perusal tend to keep alive in the hearts of \nthose who knew him the remembrance of his virtues, \nand stimulate them to imitate his whole-hearted con- \nsecration to the work of winning souls to Christ, a \nwork which our Lord has committed not to his mi- \nnisters alone, but to every member of his church. \n\nTo the officers, teachers, and pupils of the Sunday- \nschool of which our dear departed brother was so use- \nful a member, this little volume is respectfully dedi- \ncated by \n\nTheir former pastor, and ever their \naffectionate brother in Christ, \n\nCharles A. Hay. \nTheological Seminary, Gettysburg, Pa,, \nMarch 17th, 1867. \n\n\n\nIN MEMORY \n\n\n\nor \n\nCAPT. \xc2\xa5M. E. SEES. \n\n\n\nA soldier\'s funeral! Alas, how common a \nsight it has become ! \n\nOnly a few years ago, whilst committing to the \ngrave one of the^eterans of 1814, and thinking \nhow the little band of comrades gathered there \nwas rapidly diminishing in numbers, and that ail \nwere approaching the ordinary limit of human \nlife, we ventured upon the remark that such \nscenes, then so rare, would probably soon be no \nlonger witnessed ; that all who had borne arms \nin the service of their country, would, ere long, \nbe conveyed to the tomb, and the soldier\'s fune- \nral would be witnessed no more. \n\n1* \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nAh, how sadly did we err in our anticipations! \nThe solemn music of the funeral dirge; the mea- \nsured tread of the mourning escort ; the smoth- \nered tones of the muffled drum; the silent crowds \nalong the line of the sad procession, paying the \nlast tribute of respect to the remains of the brave \ndeceased; alas, how frequent now this scene of \nsorrow ! \n\nSuch a scene, but one of more than ordinary \ninterest and solemnity, was witnessed in the city \nof Harrisburg, on the 8th of October, 1865. It \nwas the funeral of Captain William E. Sees, \na brave and true-hearted Union soldier, and a \nfearless soldier of the Cross. \n\n\n\nUpon the first breaking out cn e the Rebellion he \nrushed, with characteristic impetuosity, into the \nranks of the Nation\'s defenders. He was na- \nturally endowed with great physical agility and \nvigor; was of an ardent, impulsive temperament, \nwith a mind of more than ordinary originality, \nand with great force of character. Enthusiasti \ncally patriotic, his noble and generous nature \nprompted him to rush at once to the defence of \nhis imperilled country. \n\n\n\n7 \n\n\n\nHe enlisted as a private in Company E, \nEleventh Pennsylvania Volunteers, in April, \n1861, and was mustered in as Orderly-Sergeant, \nwhich position, a very responsible one, particu- \nlarly at that early period of the war, he filled with \nmuch ability and credit. Whilst holding this \nrank he "participated, with his regiment, in the \nfirst battle of the war, that of Falling Waters, \nVa., on the 2d of July. On the 19th of July, in \nthe re-organization of the regiment for the three \nyears\' service, he was selected to be Captain of \nCompany E, with the approval of Major-General \nRobert Patterson, commanding the Department. \nMarch 6th, 1862, he was commissioned Captain \nof Company D, vice Captain John H. Knox, de- \nceased, and served with his regiment, at Anna- \npolis, Md., and at White Plains, Va., on the \nManassas Gap Railroad. He was detailed, with \nhis Company, in Eastern Virginia, upon special \nand hazardous duty. May 12th, 1862, he \nmarched, with his regiment, via Hartwood \nChurch to Falmouth, Va., and joined General \nMcDowell\'s Corps there. May 25th, returned \nwith his command by way of Belle Plains, Poto- \nmac Run, by boat to Alexandria, by rail to Ma- \nnassas Junction, and marched by way of Front \n\n\n\n8 \n\n\n\nEoyal to Cedar Creek Station, crossing to the \nforks of the Shenandoah. This was the occasion \nof Banks\' retreat from the Valley. Returned to \nManassas Junction. June 21st, obtained leave \nof absence for fourteen days, on account of sick- \nness; Special Orders, No. 150, Department Head \nQuarters. He did not again join the regiment, \nowing to sickness; and Sept. 25th, 1862, was \nmustered out of the service at Harrisburg, Pa., \nby Capt. R. J. Dodge, on account of disability." \nThese facts have been kindly furnished, from the \nregimental records, by Col. R. Coulter, who com- \nmanded the Thirteenth Regiment, and who held \nour departed brother in very high regard for his \nmany excellent traits as a soldier. \n\nBrother Sees was born to be a leader, and \nfrom his boyhood had always been, by common \nconsent, allowed the place of pre-eminence among \nhis associates. Bitterly, indeed, did he lament, \nin after years, that he so often led them further \nthan they otherwise would have gone in the ways \nof frivolity, recklessness and dissipation. Oh how \ngladly would he then have obliterated all traces \nof his early follies and sins! But this could not \nbe. No, dear reader, the memory of our youth- \nful sins cannot be extinguished, nor can their \n\n\n\n9 \n\n\n\nevil influences upon others be arrested. Words \nonce spoken can never be recalled; deeds once \nperformed can never be undone. Angry, pro- \nfane, untruthful, malicious words cause deep and \npainful wounds, which subsequent kindness can \nnever fully heal. And the evil influence of our \nearly wickedness keeps on spreading itself like \nexpanding circles on the water; \xe2\x80\x94 we have started \nit, we can no longer control or check its ruinous \nprogress. Oh how heart-sickening is this reflec- \ntion to those who have lived long in sin, and \nhave been specially active in early wrong-doing. \n\nCaptain Sees entered, we have said, with all the \nardor of his restless and impetuous nature, upon \na career of self-sacrificing devotion to his coun- \ntry\'s cause. Better, perhaps, for himself and for \nhis country, had he exercised greater prudence \nin the discharge of his duties, and paid more re- \ngard to the preservation of his health. "I \nthought I could stand anything," he afterwards \nsaid, as he looked back with regret upon his reck- \nless exposure of himself, and his needless assump- \ntion of exhausting labors, such as no human con- \nstitution can endure. By a course of gymnastic \ntraining, at intervals of leisure in the work-shop, \nhe had so educated and invigorated his physical \n\n\n\n10 \n\n\n\npowers as to be able, according to the testimony \nof his employer, to lift almost incredible weights, \nand to prove himself more than a match for many \nwho made their boast of pugilistic skill and agi- \nlity. As a leader among the firemen of his na- \ntive town, he repeatedly distinguished himself by \ndeeds of daring, and twice came near losing his \nlife in his brave efforts to save the property of \nhis fellow-citizens. And now, when there came \nthe cry for help from his insulted and imperilled \ncountry, he seemed to exult in the consciousness \nof the possession of a more than ordinary share \nof physical energy, and of a constitution har- \ndened, as he believed, so as to be fitted to bear \nalmost any amount of toil and exposure; and, \ncareless of himself, he rushed into the conflict, \nanxious only to strike rapid and heavy blows in \ndefence of his country\'s cause. \n\n"Whilst thus bravely and self-sacrificingly con- \ntending for the right, he rapidly rose in the esti- \nmation of his fellow-soldiers, both of those whom \nhe commanded, and of those who, from higher \nstations, admiringly witnessed his unflagging zeal \nand devotion. The prospect of widely increas- \ning usefulness, and a career of rapid promotion \nopened up before him. How great that useful- \n\n\n\n11 \n\n\n\nBees might Lave been, and to what a height of \nmilitary renown that career might have elevated \nhim, we cannot tell, for his course was suddenly \narrested; he was taken sick and brought to his \nhome to pine away and die. \n\nHow strangely mysterious are many of the \nways of Divine Providence! Just such men \nwere so sadly needed in our great struggle; with \nbrave hearts and strong arms, and an ardent zeal \nfor truth and justice, and all a-glow with genuine \npatriotism. And when they stepped forth and \ndrew their swords in obedience to their country\'s \ncall \xe2\x80\x94 when they heroically rushed to her rescue, \nhow disheartening, how heart-sickening, to see \nthem fall, and to hear the shouts of exultant \ntraitors hastening to enter by the breach thus \nmade ! But we had much to learn in this great \nstruggle, now so happily ended. We needed to be \ntaught not to rely upon an arm of flesh, but to \nlove justice, and to show mercy; to maintain the \ncause of the oppressed, to fear God and work \nrighteousness. Alas! that it was necessary for \nus to suffer so many reverses, and to lose so many \nprecious lives before we were ready to compre- \nhend our whole duty, and really willing to dis- \ncharge it! \n\n\n\n12 \n\n\n\nI was aroused from my sleep one night in the \nmonth of September, 1862, by a messenger sent \nto summon me to the bedside of Capt. Sees, who, \nit was supposed; was about to die. Hastening to \nhis home, in the upper end of the city, I found \nhim in an extremely enfeebled condition, but \napparently rallying from the exhaustion produced \nby a violent hemorrhage. He was perfectly con- \nscious, and was quietly looking out into what \nseemed to him a dark and strangely mysterious \nbut utterly hopeless future. He thought he was \ndying; he knew he was not prepared ; and yet he \nmanifested no terror, but seemed to be summon- \ning himself to meet his end bravely, whatever the \nissue might be. His state of mind seemed to be \nsomething like \'this : " T have never been a cow- \nard, and I cannot afford to be one now. If I \nmust die, I will die, but I won\'t give up." Alas, \nhow strangely deluded is often the heart of the im- \npenitent sinner ! How utterly mistaken his views \nin reference to his relations to God ! With many \nnoble and generous impulses, there is often cou- \npled the strangest prejudice, and He who is the \nbest of friends is held to be an implacable enemy. \n\nAs the simple story of the cross was affection- \nately related to this apparently dying unbeliever, \n\n\n\n13 \n\n\n\nand the wonderful love of God was described as \nsparing sinners, such as he was, through so many \nyears of rebellion, and now presenting, even at \nthe last moment, the kind offer of pardon and \nreconciliation, without money and without price, \nhe listened eagerly, and seemed amazed and almost \nbewildered. He begged to hear more of this, for \nit was wonderful and strangely interesting; " but," \nsaid he, " it has no application to me. It is all \nover with me. But how strange that I never \nthought of these things before. Oh ; if I only \nhad!" \n\nContrary to the expectations of all around him, \nne became slowly convalescent. He was soon \nfully satisfied, however, that he could never take \nthe field again ; and so, in perfect keeping with \nhis noble and unselfish character, unwilling to \ntake pay for services he could not perform, he had \nhimself taken in a carriage to a mustering office, \nand was mustered out of service, though needing \nthe money, to which he was justly entitled, for \nhis daily wants, and unable to engage in any \nbusiness for the support of his family. \n\nAs soon as he was strong enough to read, he \nthankfully perused what was placed in his hands, \nbut without much apparent benefit. I greatly \n2 \n\n\n\n14 \n\n\n\nregret that, owing to the incessant demands upon \nmy time and attention during those days of ex- \ncitement, with camps and hospitals all around us, \nmy private journal has so little to testify concern- \ning the repeated and intensely interesting con- \nversations held with the subject of this sketch \nduring that crisis-period of his history. To deal \nwith such an open-hearted, honest inquirer ; to \nwitness the strivings of the Spirit in a case so in- \ngenuous, and therefore to an experienced ob- \nserver so hopeful; to have the privilege of un- \nfolding the precious truths of the Gospel , even \nthe unsearchable riches of Christ, to one just \nawaking to a consciousness of his need of a Sa- \nviour and ready to follow his honest convictions \nwhithersoever they may lead him; \xe2\x80\x94 Oh, what a \nluxury is this, and how richly such a labor of love \nis already freighted, in itself, with its own " re- \nward !" Gradually the light began to break in upon \nhis mind, and he became able to recognize in \nChrist the Lord his own Redeemer and the Captain \nof his salvation. The great God whom he at first \ndistantly adored, with amazement at His power, \nso vast, and His wisdom, so wonderful, he now \nbegan to approach as his Father, compassionate \nand merciful. He began to realize that God \n\n\n\n15 \n\n\n\ncared even for him, and was really willing to for- \ngive even him, for Christ\'s sake. It seemed al- \nmost too good to be trne, and yet he found that \nit was indeed true; and so, with all the ardor of \nhis impulsive nature, he hastened to throw him- \nself into his Heavenly Father\'s arms, and give \nHim his whole heart. \n\nOf his own accord ; and prompted, I have no \ndoubt ; by a desire to give me some proof of his \ngratitude and attachment, he drew up the follow- \ning communication shortly after his conversion, \nand subsequently handed it to me ; during one of \nour interviews. \n\nHarrisburg, Nov. 14, 1862. \n\nRev. Charles Hay: \n\nSir : \xe2\x80\x94 I should have called upon or communi- \ncated with you at an earlier date, but knowing how \nmuch your time was occupied in earnest endea- \nvors to alleviate both the temporal and spiritual \nwants of the sick and wounded soldiers, and I \nwill confess, too, natural diffidence on the great \nsubject of religion, made me loath to come to you \nuntil this time ; when a sense of justice to you \ndemands me to tell you all and to solicit encour- \nagement. \n\n\n\n16 \n\n\n\nYou no doubt remember your last visit to me. \nYou found me still in great doubt and perplexity, \nfoolishly trying to wade through great mysteries, \nand make myself good enough to claim salvation \nas a right instead of humbly praying for it as a \nboon or gift, persuading myself that until I could \nimagine to myself and comprehend the great \nCreator, I could not bow in humility to Him and \nask for that mercy that not to obtain was eternal \nperdition. \n\nYou left the first series of Dr. Spencer\'s \nSketches with me, together with a tract, the sub- \nject of which was an extract from Bunyan\'s \n" Pilgrim\'s Progress," on " Conversion/\' or rather \nthe mode. The next day I read the tract and \nthe story of a The Young Irishman," from Dr. \nSpencer, but my weak and sinful mind was blunt- \ned, and that which should have shed light was \nstill dark to me. After a long and painful train \nof thought, I was compelled to acknowledge \nthat there was a great Being to whom I was ac- \ncountable, and if I should die as I was, in my \nsins, a terrible doom awaited me \xe2\x80\x94 but, I was \nforced to admit, a just one \xe2\x80\x94 because of my neglect, \nand my open and defiant rebellion to His will, \nand my resistance to the strivings of the Holy \n\n\n\n17 \n\n\n\nSpirit. Then in earnest I asked myself, where \nshall I look for help? The arch-enemy plied me \nunmercifnlly with doubts and trouble, till I was \nconstrained to groan in my agony of spirit. My \nprospect of peace seemed dark and gloomy in- \ndeed, and almost led me to think there was no \nhope for me. When almost sinking beneath the \ncrushing weight of this conviction, as a last re- \nsort, I looked up and prayed God that, as I could \ndo nothing for myself, but was wicked and sinful \nby nature, weighed down and overwhelmed with \ndoubts and perplexities, that He would forgive \nme, have mercy on me, just as I am, all covered \nwith sin. I was lost and undone forever, unless \nHe would save me just as I am. While earnestly \npraying in that spirit, a bright and hopeful light \nbroke through my darkened understanding. I was \nastounded with the belief that this was just what \nG-od required me to do, and had been telling me \nto do, nay, urging me to do, for years, from out \nHis holy word, the pulpit, and many divers ways ; \nbut I had been blind. As this light broke in \nupon me, all my doubts and darkness vanished as \nthin air. I then felt and understood how I could \nhave faith in things not seen with earthly eyes. \nI then saw where that sweet peace came from \n# 2* \n\n\n\n18 \n\n\n\nthat is enjoyed by those that love God and take \nfirm hold of His promises. Blessed promises \nthey are, when we see them as God meant that we \nshould ! Then I began to see J esus in the light \nof the atonement, how He suffered as a man in \nthe flesh for all men, that through His atonement \nall might be saved. I then felt His power as a \nMediator and Intercessor for sinners. All came \nclear to me. I do not know much yet, but I \nhave no doubts. I know enough. I can now \nunderstand how poor illiterate mortals can have \nthat great and saving measure of faith that I \nonce called a delusion; because, as I reasoned, \nhow can they understand what the wisest of men \nare at a loss to comprehend ? How little do we \nknow of God\'s plans, is now my cry; but be they \nwhat they may, they are all right. I have now \ndetermined to live without offence before God, \nand with His help I will try. It is hard, though, \nto do it. I find I do not succeed so well as I \nshould; but I will do the best I can ; and leave \nthe rest to Him. He is our Father, and as such \nI can now ask Him to forgive, with the hope that \nHe will, which comfort I was devoid of before. \nI know that the great discovery of God\'s goodness \nand ineroy that I made does not make me a Chris- \n\n\n\n19 \n\n\n\ntian, but I have firm faith that through the atone- \nment and intercession of Jesus, it is all-sufficient \nto save me, if I hold fast to the promises of God, \nwho has said He will in no wise cast me out. But \nI need counsel and assistance. I am weak in \nbody and spirit, irritable in my temper. I pray \nfor strength to conquer these troubles. It is all \nI can do; and even then, they get the better of \nme sometimes. \n\nI am glad that I read no more of Dr. Spencer\'s \nSketches until after light came to me, as he re- \nlates so many instances like mine, that I am \nafraid I would have thought that I was led into \nthat train of thought by his stories. It is a satis- \nfaction that I found it out myself. It was dis- \ncovered to me in such a way that I have never \nsince had a doubt. I laugh now at doubts, and \nsee how foolish the wisest are, who deny God. \n\nHoping soon to have the pleasure of a conver- \nsation with you ; I remain, \n\nYours, respectfully, \n\nWm. E. Sees. \n\nIs not that a beautiful picture? My eyes grow \ndim with tears of joy and gratitude every time I \nlook at it ! Here is the touching simplicity of a \n\n\n\n20 \n\n\n\nheart without guile, nobly struggling to tear it- \nself away from the thraldom of sin, and coming \nout rejoicingly into the true liberty of the chil- \ndren of God. What a triumph of grace ! That \none so fixed in habits of ungodliness, so com- \npletely committed to the ways of the world, a \nringleader in scenes of riotous revelling, and \nseeming to himself utterly beyond all hope of \npardon or reformation, that such an one should \nexperience so sound and thorough a conversion \nto true godliness, this is a spectacle calculated to \ncheer the heart of every true believer, and stimu- \nlate all to persevering efforts in behalf even of \nthose who seem to be farthest from the kingdom \nof God. \n\nObserve, dear .reader, how life-like is this nar- \nrative; how simply and yet how graphically it \nsets forth all the essential features of the divine \nwork, the new creation in Christ J esus ! \n\nBro. Sees does not, indeed, here speak of the \nbeginning of this work \xe2\x80\x94 that is of his awakening. \nOf that he spoke to me often, in the same strain. \nOn one occasion he said to me, "God had to hit \nme very hard to bring me to this; but I\'m glad \nhe did it." a What a fool I was; and I thought \nI was smart!" He often alluded to his sickness \n\n\n\n21 \n\n\n\nas the greatest blessing that had ever been con- \nferred upon him. "If it had not been for this, \nI don\'t think I ever would have come to Jesus." \n\nBut he sets forth here, very clearly, the condi- \ntion of the awakened sinner, groping in darkness, \nstriving to understand mysteries, and to compre- \nhend the deep things of Grod, before consenting \nto believe; "foolishly trying to wade through \ngreat mysteries, * * persuading myself that \nuntil I could imagine to myself, and comprehend \nthe Great Creator, I could not bow in humility to \nHim, and ask for that mercy that not to obtain \nwas eternal perdition." \n\nHow many there are who never get beyond this \nstate of mind ! Because they cannot understand \nthe great mystery of godliness; because they can- \nnot comprehend how God can be just, and yet \njustify the sinner who believes in Jesus, they re- \nfuse to believe and so perish in their sins. \n\nAgain, he graphically describes the attempts \nof the awakened sinner to commend himself to \nGod hy a righteousness of his own, \xe2\x80\x94 making \n" myself good enough to claim salvation as a right, \ninstead of humbly praying for it as a boon or \n\ngift." \n\n\n\n22 \n\n\n\nAlas, how many here make shipwreck of their \nhopes! They would accept of pardon if they \nwere allowed to pay for it; but, with all their \nprofessed humility, they are too proud to receive \ntheir pardon " without money and without price." \nAnd so, because they cannot save themselves, and \nwill not submit to the humiliating terms of the \ngospel, they, too, will stand rejected at the bar of \nChrist. \n\nWith others, the case, though different, is \nequally hopeless. These work, and strive, and do \nall manner of things that seem to them merito- \nrious in the sight of God (doing penance, after \na Protestant fashion,) and bye and bye, perhaps \nthrough sheer exhaustion, they experience some \nmeasure of relief ; or, by laying hold of some false \nand unscriptural hope, persuade themselves that \nnow their struggle is over, and they have "found \npeace " and " got religion." And they are much \nsurprised to discover that neither the church nor \nthe world can see that they are any better than \nbefore; for all such man-made religion is worth- \nless in the sight of God, and yields no genuine \nfruits of righteousness. "All our righteousnesses \nare as filthy rags." \n\n\n\n23 \n\n\n\nBro. Sees, in this account of his conversion, \nnext exhibits the genuine self-condemnation of \nthe true penitent. " My own mind was blunted." \n"A terrible doom awaited me, but, I was forced \nto admit, a just one, because of my neglect and \nmy open and defiant rebellion to His will, and my \nresistance to the strivings of the Holy Spirit." \n\nThere is, indeed, no hope of a genuine conver- \nsion, until the sinner, out of a truly honest heart, \nexcfaims, "God, be merciful to me a sinner!" \n" Father, I have sinned." Nor is there, in this, \nany proof of weakness or pusillanimity. Just \nthe opposite. To refuse to acknowledge a fault \nwhen convinced of it, this is a mark of a little \nmind as well as of a depraved heart. We should \nbe ashamed to sin * but, having sinned, we should \nnot be ashamed to confess it. And nothing short \nof this will suffice when the sinner desires to make \nhis peace with God. " If we confess our sins, he \nis faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to \ncleanse us from all unrighteousness." \n\nWe see, too, in this narrative, strikingly illus \ntrated, the true penitent\'s consciousness of utter \nhelplessness. u Then in earnest I asked myself, \nwhere shall I look for pity V \xe2\x80\x94 "Almost led me \nto think there was no hope for me." " I could \n\n\n\n24 \n\n\n\ndo nothing for myself." "All covered with sin." \n" Lost and undone forever." \n\nProbably no one, when at first awakened, has \nanything like an adequate conception of his own \nmoral weakness: We are all prone to think of \nourselves more highly than we ought to think, \nin this respect, as in all others. And we are slow \nto be convinced that we can do nothing of our- \nselves toward the renewing of our hearts, but \nmust accept of our pardon, and of all the bless- \nings of the gospel, entirely through the mercy of \nGod, bestowed upon us freely, out of pure com- \npassion for us in our utterly ruined and helpless \ncondition. It is a Saviour that we need, and \nnot until we truly feel our need of Him, will we \nrightly seek His interposition on our behalf; nor, \nuntil we thus truly seek, is it morally possible for \nus to find relief and deliverance. \n\nNext, we rejoice to observe, in this narrative \nof brother Sees, a beautiful illustration of the \nprayer and glance of faith. Here is the crisis, \nthe turning point; and how simply and naturally \nexpressed! "As a last resort, I looked up and \nprayed God that * * He would forgive me, \nand have mercy on me, just as I am," etc. Oh, \nwhy is it that the convicted sinner, groaning in \n\n\n\n25 \n\n\n\nthe bitterness of his spirit, will not, like the ser- \npent-bitten Israelite in the desert, at once "look \nup " and see Him that was lifted up in order that \nHe might draw all men unto Him! "Look and \nlive." "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and \nthou shalt be saved." \n\nWe notice, next, the first consciousness of the \nnew life, as he began to see Jesus in the light of \nthe atonement. "A bright and hopeful light \nbroke through my darkened understanding." No \ndream, no vision, no special revelation of the Sa- \nviour, but "I began to feel His power as a Me- \ndiator and Intercessor for sinners." "As this \nlight broke in upon me, all my doubts and dark- \nness vanished as thin air." "I then saw where \nthat sweet peace came from that is enjoyed by \nthose that love God, and take firm hold of His \npromises." "All came clear to me." \n\nThe Holy Spirit is the best interpreter. When \nthe heart ceases to resist His gracious influences, \nthey come in and take possession, dispelling its \ndarkness, and filling the soul with light, and \npeace, and love and joy, in believing "With \nthe heart man believeth unto righteousness." \nBefore the rising of the Sun of righteousness in \nthe heart ; ail manner of infidel objections against \n3 \n\n\n\n26 \n\n\n\nthe gospel disappear, like the early mist of the \nmorning. Suddenly they vanish ; and the hum- \nble and grateful believer, as he clings affection- \nately to his newly-found Redeemer, wonders how \nhe ever could have cherished a doubt as to His \nbeing indeed the Son of God and Saviour of the \nworld. \n\nThe true convert humbly acquiesces in the Di- \nvine will. "I do not know much yet \xe2\x80\x94 I know \nenough. \xe2\x80\x94 How little do we know of God\'s plans, \nis now my cry ; but, be they what they may, they \nare all right." \n\nThen follows the hearty consecration to a cheer- \nful and grateful obedience. " I am now deter- \nmined to live without offence before God, and by \nHis help I will. try." "X pray for strength." \n\nAnd, lastly, the possession of a joyful assurance. \n"I have firm faith that, through the atonement \nand intercession of Jesus, it is sufficient to save \nme." " I laugh at doubts, and see how foolish \nthe wisest are who deny God." \n\nSuch a narrative, unsophisticated, straightfor- \nward, coming fresh from the heart, is peculiarly \nvaluable and instructive, and I hope, dear reader, \n}^ou will study it and compare it with your own \nexperience; for such a comparison can hardly \n\n\n\n27 \n\n\n\nfail to be profitable to you. One person\'s conver- \nsion is not, indeed, to be set up as a model for \nothers; nor can we expect to see a very close \nconformity in the precise order and measure of \nthe spiritual exercises of those who are the subjects \nof Divine grace; and yet while there are diversities \nof operations, it is the same Spirit that worketh \nin all, and the leading characteristics of every \ngenuine conversion must be always and every- \nwhere essentially the same. "As in water face \nanswereth to face, so the heart of man to man." \nThere is in every one the same evil heart of un- \nbelief, the same proneness to neglect God and \ntrample upon His authority, the same necessity \nfor genuine repentance, and the same impossibi- \nlity of experiencing true peace of conscience and \nof acceptably serving God except through sincere \nfaith in Jesus Christ and a hearty submission to \nthe sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit. \n\nFrom the time of his conversion the progress \nof Brother Sees in the Divine life was singularly \nrapid. Never, indeed, have I witnessed such a \nclearly marked and beautifully symmetrical de- \nvelopment of the various graces of the true Chris- \ntian character in so short a time. Unaffected \n\n\n\n28 \n\n\n\nhumility shone forth in striking contrast with \nhis former overbearing imperiousness of manner; \nhis passionate impetuosity, ready to flame out \ninto revenge at the slightest insult, was softened \ninto a pure and holy enthusiasm for the right and \nthe good and the true ; his promptness to take the \nlead in every reckless adventure, where there was \nopportunity for daring and a chance to win re- \nnown among his fellows, gave place to a glowing \nand self-sacrificing devotion to the cause of the \ndear Redeemer, whom he now so ardently loved. \nIt was delightful to see how soon and how clearly \nhe appreciated the cardinal principles of the gos- \npel, and how consistently and unflinchingly he \napplied them to all the affairs of life, both public \nand private. \n\nI well remember the amazement he expressed \nat the utterances of a minister of the Gospel, \nthen residing at Harrisburg, whom he found it \nnecessary to call upon for the discharge of a pas- \ntoral duty during my absence from the city. Con- \nversing with him upon the great topic of the day, \nhe was shocked to hear the system of slavery de- \nfended and the opinion expressed that " it is not \nso easy to tell which party is right in this great \nstruggle !" (i Only think of it," said he, " and \n\n\n\n29 \n\n\n\nthat from a Minister of the Gospel!" "Well," \nsaid I, "and what did you answer him ?" u I told \nhim that I was only a beginner in religion, and \nit did not become me to claim to be wiser than \nministers ; but I thought it very strange that \nany one could think it right to own and sell a fel- \nlow-man ; and, as to the rebellion, I could \nnot think there was much room to doubt on \nwhich side God was, when you saw these rebels \nbreaking all their solemn oaths and making war \nagainst a good government just because it would \nnot let them manage it in the interests of sla- \nvery." \n\nIn a letter to a friend, dated July 22, \'64, this \ncharacteristic passage occurs. Ci My health is? \nas usual, very variable, but on the whole seems to \nbe better than this time last year. I try not to \nbe much concerned about it, and to be resigned \nto my Master\'s will, ready to go or willing to \nstay, but alas \xc2\xa3 the spirit indeed is willing but \nthe flesh is weak/ and sometimes I find myself \nwishing robust health, that I might again face \nthe foe of Right, and my anger rises hot when I \nhear the blatant voice of treason at our street \ncorners, exulting over our reverses. But may \n\nGod forgive me the sudden risings of hatred ! \n3* \n\n\n\n30 \n\n\n\nThis is His war, and in His own time will our Glo- \nrious Triumphant Saviour put all His enemies \nunder His feet. We can afford to wait, and in \nthe mean time pity and forgive them, for their \nexultation will be short and ours eternal." \n\nNow, religion had become to him the princi- \npal thing, and everything was brought to the test \nof the Word of God, which he most heartily ac- \ncepted as his guide, and to the study of which he \ndevoted himself with intense interest and de- \nlight. \n\nHe made a public profession of religion on the \n16th of January, 1862, and adorned this profes- \nsion by a truly consistent deportment and a life \nof genuine devotion to the cause of his dear Re- \ndeemer. So soon as he had sufficiently recovered \nto admit of it, he took charge of a class of young \nmen in the Sunday-school, which rapidly increased \nin number and became ardently attached to him. \nMost zealously and affectionately he labored for \ntheir conversion, and clung to them with ever-in- \ncreasing interest and concern for their spiritual \nwelfare, meeting regularly with them until with- \nin two weeks of his death. Of this class, num- \nbering sixteen, more than one third have already \ngiven their hearts to the Lord, and we trust that \n\n\n\nt \n\n\n\n31 \n\n\n\nsooner or later all of them will be found gathered \ninto the fold of the Redeemer and ready to be \nwelcomed by their beloved teacher as they enter \nthe heavenly home. \n\nOne of his class left home to pursue a course \nof study in Pennsylvania College, at Gettysburg; \nand you will be interested, dear reader, to ob- \nserve how the heart of his affectionate teacher \nfollowed him and how faithfully he strove to win \nhim to Christ. \n\nUnder date of June 27th, 1864, he writes : \xe2\x80\x94 \n" Friend J. \n\n* * " I frequently inquire about you and \nam gratified to learn that you are energetically \npursuing your studies. J., you cannot estimate \nthe opportunity that is now afforded you. If you \nwere placed by the kindness of the owner in a \nrich gold mine and told by him that for a cer- \ntain space of time you might have all the gold \nyou could find, you would be very industrious. \nYou are in a richer mine than California can \nboast of. My advice then is that you take care \nof your bodily health first, because without that \nyou cannot delve with that vigor and endurance \nwhich insures success. To do this be sure and \nobey the rules of the Institution, which are made \n\n\n\n32 \n\nwith a view to the laws of health by wiser men \nthan you or I. Good health and a sound mind \nwell stored with useful knowledge are inestima- \nble blessings, and good education is a more reli- \nable capital than much money to commence life \nupon. I have no doubt your kind Father, who \naffords you these great advantages has told you \nthis and more, in a clearer and more convincing \nmanner than I can ; but not having had such \nadvantages myself, and feeling the loss and need \nof them, I add my testimony, that, by the mouth \nof two witnesses, he from the experience of pos- \nsession, and I by the experience of want, you \nmay be convinced of the truth. \n\n" The class is progressing finely. * * I like \nmy class very much, and am under obligations to \nyou for constructing it for me. If the Romish \ndoctrine of works was Gospel, I would say that \nyour action in forming this class was like Paul \nsays of charity, it would hide a multitude of \nsins. \n\n"J., I know the lightness of the youthful \nheart at your age. None knows better than I do \nhow dull such a letter will be to you. But, J., I \nhave got the spectacles of a painful experience \non, and you must take things as I see them, and \n\n\n\n33 \n\n\n\ncertainly the colors will be more sober, not to say \nsombre, than you will like. But, J., take my \nletters like you do a dose of medicine, not be- \ncause you like it, but for the good it may do \nyou. I make this preface, because I am going \nto tell you again that which I told you when you \nwere home, to seek the Lord now while you are \nyoung. J., the greatest of all wisdom in the \nworld is contained in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. \nIf I knew how to induce you to believe this, and \nthen to come to Him as He wants you to, I would \nbe willing to write every day for the rest of my \nlife. But I can only assert it to be so; and, aye, \none more thing I can do, I can join my prayers \nto your father\'s, and mother\'s, and sister\'s, to our \nblessed Saviour, that your eyes may be opened to \nthe importance of making Jesus your friend. \nFor that He is a Friend that sticketh closer than \na brother will always, by His help, be testified to \nby "Your Friend and Teacher, \n\n"Wm. E. Sees." \n\nAgain, under date of July 22, 1864. \n\n* * * u That better knowledge, the knowledge \nof our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ as your \n\n\n\n34 \n\n\n\nSaviour, you can get, and ought to get now without \ndelay. This knowledge is the gift of God, and \nHe will impart it to you, if you ask desiringly \nfor it. J., I believe in prayer to God, and I will \npray for you, and at the same time urge upon you \nto pray to God earnestly that He may open your \neyes that you may see your need of Him. Do \nthis now; do not delay it. I might make a long \nappeal to you, but there is no need in your case. \nYou know that the responsibility is greater with \nyou than with others, * * * you may infer all \nthe rest, and I will leave you in the hands of \nGod. Do me this favor, to think of me when \nyou pray, and pray for me along with your other \nfriends, and remember that I too pray our Hea- \nvenly Father that you may learn to love Him \nand give Him all vour heart." \n\nTo the same friend he writes, Oct. 29, 1864, \nas follows : \n\n* * * " I am pleased to learn that your Insti- \ntution opens encouragingly as to numbers. I \nsuppose some of them intend to become ministers \nof the Gospel. I hope many of them may, and \nthat their minds be not alone filled with the \n\n\n\n35 \n\n\n\nlearning of the schools, but be enlightened by the \nHoly Spirit, that they may be teachers indeed of \nthe people, pointing them to and leading them in \nthe \' Way;\' expounding clearly and presenting \nfearlessly the 1 Truth ; \' that they and their hearers \nmay be partakers of the \xc2\xa3 Life/ even in this \nworld, quickening them in the pursuit of 1 Life \nEternal/ \n\n" J., I earnestly desire that neither pleasure nor \nambition may allure and absorb your mind to \nsuch an extent that you will neglect to investi- \ngate who this was that boldly asserted, in the \nteeth of the proud Pharisaical teachers of that \nday, and in the face of all the plans of men of \nthis day to save themselves, \' I am the way, and \nthe truth and the life, and no man cometh unto \nthe Father but by me/ Never rest satisfied un- \ntil you have the certain knowledge, for without \nthis all other knowledge is useless ; for \'what \ndoth it profit a man if he gain the whole world \nand lose his own soul ? \' * * * His Spirit will \nnot always strive, and surely and certainly eternal \nwoe will be the result of your neglect or refusal \nof His offers of mercy. I repeat, I might re- \nmind you of this, with many and strong reasons, \nbut you know it all. You have no excuse, no \n\n\n\n36 \n\n\n\nnothing, and, in view of all the facts and circum- \nstances, much to add to your condemnation if you \npersist in neglecting this great preparation for \ndeath. I speak plain. When on this subject I \nmust. I was in the jaws of death; my sins like \na mountain rising between me and an offended \nGod; and only by the mercy of God was time \ngranted me, for which, glory to God ! now and \nforever ! And ought I not to speak plain when I \nmade such a narrow escape from the very mouth \nof hell? And, J., its horrors have not been miti- \ngated since I was there. Unless you repent, you \nwill find it the same awful place which Dives \nfound it to be. J., do not drive serious thoughts \nout of your head; in other words, do not grieve \nthe Holy Spirit; listen to it now; let all else go, \nbut give heed to the voice of God. \n\n* * * " That the Lord may give you His Spirit, \nand show you yourself as He sees you, is the \nprayer of your \n\n" Friend and Teacher, \n\n"Wm. E. Sees." \n\nTo another member of his Sunday-school class, \nwho had removed to Philadelphia, he writes, un- \nder date of April 26, 1865: \n\n" You have my best wishes, and also my prayers \n\n\n\n37 \n\nto a merciful and all-wise God for both your tem- \nporal and spiritual welfare. C, do not let the \nallurements of a large city seduce you from the \npath of integrity and virtue. Connect yourself \nwith some Sabbath-school, and seek the society of \nthose who love the Lord. Make it the business \nof your life to prepare for death, that you may be \nprepared for that rest which is prepared for the \npeople of God. < What doth it profit a man if \nhe gain the whole world and lose his own soul?\' \nThis is the language of our great Master, the- \nCreator of our souls and the Saviour of them, ifj \nwe will accept the salvation He so freely offers. \nThink of it; who knows so well as He? He did \nnot tell us what all the glory of heaven .was; but \nit is clearly implied in the above question, when \nhe places the joys of heaven in contrast with the \nownership of the whole world ; also the utter risk \nand awful horror of eternal night in hell is as \ntruly implied. Ask yourself seriously, C. ; have I \nmy peace made with God? If your conscience \ntells you No, then do not rest a moment but pray \nGod for Christ\'s sake to enlighten you by His Holy \nSpirit, that you may see yourself as He sees you, \nthat you may flee from the wrath to come. Do \nthis, is my prayer, and all will be well." \n\n\n\n38 \n\nTo the same pupil, under date of May 16, 18C5. \nhe writes: \n\n"I was much pleased with the tone of your \nletter. Adhere to those principles and put your \ntrust in God. Go to Him for advice in every \nperplexity; make Him the Man of your counsel. \n\xe2\x80\xa2C, I am in earnest. Every trouble that is large \nenough to afflict you, is large enough to take to \nour Father. Every new step in life, do not make \nit till you have prayed God for .direction. Do \nnothing that you cannot ask God\'s blessing upon, \nand you are safe. Do not let present advantage \nblind you with regard to your eternal welfare. \nForego present gain if it is not right. C, prac- \ntice much in prayer. You can do all things by \nfaith in Christ, and the practice of it in prayer. \nHealth, wealth, wisdom, and a winning manner \nand address, fitting you for business and pleasant \nassociation. Christian graces are more beautiful \nthan any acquired in earthly schools; the true \nChristian is the only true gentleman. And all \nthese maybe had for the asking. C, try and see \nwhat a rich friend you have in Christ. C, in \nyour prayers remember your teacher; for though \nI advise you, I need help and sustaining grace as \n\n\n\n39 \n\n\n\nmuch as any one. * * * Our school is getting \nthin this warm weather. Many prefer to go to \nthe woods and fields. I have no objection, if they \npraise God there; the fear Is, that not good but \nevil is in their thoughts. God knows and judges. \nI hope that our success may continue, for we have \nhad a fine school. Though, if my health does not \nimprove, I shall have to stop teaching, which will \ngrieve me much." \n\nAlong with this letter he sent the usual certi- \nficate of dismission from the Sunday-school, which \nhe covered with a special and cordial endorse- \nment, concluding as follows : \n\n"I can safely recommend him to the confidence \nof men under all circumstances. Especially do I \nrecommend him to the care of God\'s people. \nWatch over him, and be as a shield over and \naround about him, that he may feel that the \nChurch is God\'s family, each member entitled \nto full privileges and protection, nurture and \nnourishment." \n\nTo the same friend, recovering from sickness, \na few months later, he wrote: "C, do nothing \n\n\n\n40 \n\nthat will injure your health. Much as I delight \nto hear from you, I would forego this pleasure \nrather than to feel that that time which should be \nspent in repose and recreation was spent in \nwriting to me. Take care of yourself, and use \nall proper means, looking to our good God and \nFather to bless, and all may yet be well. I fre- \nquently remember you in my prayers, that you \nmay be completely restored to health, and kept \nin the faith, manifesting your faith in good works \nand upright conduct, making it the rule of your \nlife to follow after the pattern of our Saviour, \nobeying His precepts and commandments. C, I \nam satisfied from my short experience, that a \nman may live so near to Jesus, as to learn of Him \nevery day, and become more and more like Him \nin unselfishness and love to his fellow-men. Be- \nlieve me, there are attainments within the reach \nof every true child of God, which will make him \nunspeakably happy even in this present evil world. \nMay God give you deep and fervent love for \nJesus, then obedience will be easy. * * * * \nThank God that I am as well as I am. He still \npermits me to walk about, while many poor mor- \ntals, better than me, are confined to beds of suf- \nfering and pain. If it is His will, I hope to re- \n\n\n\n41 \n\n\n\ncover. My best days were spent in the service \nof Satan. Now, in His infinite mercy, my eyes \nhave been opened, and I would like to serve Him \nin the land of the living. May He give me grace \nto say in sincerity : c Thy will, not mine, be done/ \n* * C, we are in God\'s hands; let us pray \nfor each other. Our Saviour says : \'All things \nwhatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, that \nye shall receive/ This is an exceeding great \nand precious promise. Let us remind Him of it in \nprayer, and have faith, and He will answer us. \nMay God give us more faith, that, like faithful \nAbraham, we may not stagger in unbelief. Now, \nmay God bless you and keep you safely through \nall your trials, for our blessed Saviour\'s sake, is \nthe prayer of your friend and \n\n"Brother in Christ, \n\n"Wm. E. Sees/\' \n\nIt may well occasion surprise to those who are \n\naware of the very limited early opportunities of \n\ninstruction enjoyed by our dear, departed brother, \n\nthat he should be able to write so clearly, and \n\nforcibly, and fluently. But he possessed a mind \n\nof unusual quickness and originality; and now, \n\nthat his heart was all alive with a yearning de- \n4* \n\n\n\n42 \n\n\n\nsire to benefit spiritually all over whom he could \nexert an influence, his words fall from his lips \nand flow from his pen with an unction and a \npathos that are truly remarkable. Nor have \nthese appeals and these epistles been in vain. "A \nword in season, how good is it I" \n\nThe Christian career of Bro. Sees was brief, \nbut it was marked by many features that are well \ndeserving of imitation by others who have long \nbeen professed followers of Christ. To his fellow- \nteachers in the Sunday School his example is a \npowerful incentive to punctuality in attendance \nand fidelity in dealing with their pupils. It was \naffecting to see him slowly moving along toward \nthe church, supporting his tall and emaciated \nframe upon his staff, and stopping every now and \nthen to regain his breach, and gather a little \nstrength for another effort. how slight a cause \nkeeps many a teacher at home, when the expec- \ntant class, disheartened, sits idly waiting, or \nperhaps disperses and is gradually broken up ! \nTeachers, be punctual while you can, and let your \nvivid recollection of this dear brother\'s example \nbe a perpetual stimulus for you in this respect. \nAnd lay to heart, too^ and imitate his se[f sacri- \nficing devotion to the true welfare of his pupils, \n\n\n\n43 \n\n\n\nhis affectionate earnestness in pleading with them \nto avoid his early errors, and begin in their youth \nto love the Saviour, and yield their hearts to His \ncontrol. Be not discouraged by their apparent \nindifference and unwillingness to heed your coun- \nsels. Bro. Sees, in his boyhood, was a pupil in \nyour Sunday School, and by his own acknow- \nledgment, the most inattentive and troublesome \nof them all; but he assured me that in many an \nhour of subsequent wandering in the ways of sin, \nthe kind counsels of Mr. P. B., then the Superin- \ntendent of the school, would ring in his ears, and \nthat in his wildest days he always entertained the \nmost sincere respect and regard for Mr. A. E., \nhis Sunday School teacher. Perhaps, without \nthe aid of these early influences, he might never \nhave been brought to the knowledge of the \ntruth. \n\nHe loved the young men\'s prayer-meeting, and \nhe became indeed the very life and soul of it. \nThere he first ventured, as many others, to lead in \nsocial prayer, and there we first learned how richly \nGod had endowed him with that grace and gift also. \nNot without reason did Brother Conrad designate \nhim \xc2\xa3i a very prince in prayer for the Lord who \nthus equipped him, added a special unction to his \n\n\n\nprayers, clothing them with a wonderfully quick- \nening power, and making them more effectual \nthan sermons for the awakening of the careless \nand the edifying of his brethren. \n\nAbout two years ago his health had so much \nimproved that he attempted to resume his former \noccupation, that of a coach-trimmer, but was soon \ncompelled to relinquish the undertaking, the dust \nof the shop irritating his lungs and aggravating \nhis cough. He soon after that received an ap- \npointment in connection with Camp Curtin, the \nduties of which were light, but which soon severely \ntested his Christian principles. The officer in \ncommand ordered him to perform some labor on \nthe Lord\'s day that was altogether unnecessary. \nHe felt it to-be his duty to refuse, although he \nwas sure that he would thereby lose his place, \nand with it the only means within his reach of \nsupporting his family. As he expected, he was \nat once told that his services were no longer \nneeded ; but the affair was brought to the notice \nof those a little higher in authority, and he was \nforthwith reinstated, with duties still lighter \nthan before, and having won the respect of all \naround him for his steadfast adherence to Chris- \ntian principles. \n\n\n\n45 \n\n\n\nNot long thereafter the War Department em- \nployed him in the secret service, for which he \nwas admirably fitted by his incorruptible inte- \ngrity, his wonderful insight into human charac- \nter, his remarkable shrewdness and sagacity, and \neven by that early familiarity with the crooked \nways of the ungodly, whose artifices he so well \nunderstood, and whose duplicity he was thus the \nbetter able to detect and expose. More than one \nunfaithful Government official thus found him- \nself unexpectedly retrograding in station or sum- \nmarily dismissed the service, while flattering \nhimself that none but deluded and admiring \neyes were observing his career. \n\nStriking proof of his fidelity and fearlessness \nin the discharge of the duties of this unenviable \npost may be found in a pamphlet entitled: "Re- \nport of the Select Committee relative to Frauds \ncommitted upon Soldiers, the People, and the \nGovernment, made to the House of Representa- \ntives of the State of Pennsylvania, May 24, \n1865. " His testimony before this Committee is \nrecorded on pages 38-43, and affords convincing \nevidence of his possession, in a remarkable de- \ngree, of the traits of character above alluded to. \n\n\n\n46 \n\n\n\nThe health of Bro. Sees continued to improve; \nand his voice growing stronger, I began to enter- \ntain hopes of seeing him enter the gospel minis- \ntry for which he could have been easily and \nspeedily prepared. How his heart bounded at \nthe thought, when this was proposed to him! \n"Oh, Brother Hay, if the Lord would only allow \nme to do that! But no; my health is* too far \ngone. I am sure I could not stand it. But F1I \ndo what I can in an humbler sphere, God help- \ning me.\'" And right nobly did he carry out this \nresolution, as I delight to testify. Never was \nthere a more fearless witness for the truth, as \nopportunity offered, or one more anxious to atone \nfor the evils of an early life of sin by direct per- \nsonal efforts for the conversion of those whom he \nhad formerly led astray. He not only made his \nyouthful associates, lining on in sin around him, \nthe subjects of special prayer, but he visited them, \nand frankly and affectionately set before them all \nthat was in his heart with regard to them : how \nbitterly he lamented that he had gone with them \nand urged them on in the ways of sin; how he \nmourned to think that he could not now undo \nthe harm he thus had done; how earnestly he \ndesired that they, too, should see the folly and \n\n\n\n47 \n\n\n\nthe danger of their course as he had done, and \nthat they, too, should now give their hearts to \nGod, and be happy in enjoying his favor. \n\nIn addition to this he adopted the expedient \nof writing letters to them, some of which he read \nto me before delivering them, in which he made \nthe most earnest and affecting appeals, express- \ning, indeed, the fear that these heartfelt entreaties \nmight not, for the present, be heeded, but asking \nit as a personal favor, to an old and tried friend, \nthat these letters should be carefully preserved, \nin the belief that, sooner or later, the clay would \ncome when these, the companions of his youth, \nwould be willing to give heed to what he felt to \nbe the dying counsels of one who had sinned with \nthem, and now with all his heart was praying \nfor them. "I hope/\' said he, "this will then \nsound to them like a voice from the grave." God \ngrant it ! In this way, as in many others, our \ndear departed brother, though dead, yet speaketh. \n\nAnd now, dear reader, you are prepared to \nlearn that, as our brother\'s attenuated frame \nwasted more and more away, his lustrous eye \ngrew yet more bright as # it caught an occasional \nglimpse of the glory that is to be revealed. Oh \nhow he sometimes longed to be free from this \n\n\n\n48 \n\n\n\nbody of death ! But, suddenly checking himself, \nhe would exclaim, "It is not quite time yet; the \nLord knows best; His will be done." \n\nAmong those who visited him, as his end drew \nnear, was one (R. J. F., Esq.,) who had known \nhim well in his days of reckless folly, and whose \nChristian counsels and example had doubtless \noften checked him in his sinful career. From \nthis brother\'s private journal we are permitted to \nmake the following extract: \n\n" On Sunday, Oct. 1, 1865, I called to see \nCaptain William E. Sees, who had been taken \nsuddenly ill, and who, to all human appearance, \nwas rapidly approaching his end, and never have \nI witnessed so powerful an illustration of the tri- \numph of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, under \nthe immediate prospect of death. When I ex- \npressed a hope that God would see fit to raise \nhim up again, he replied that he had no desire \nto live, unless it was the will of God that he \nshould be useful in admonishing his fellow-men \nto repent and give their hearts to God. \'All is \nright with me/ he continued, \'my work is done; \nJesus is waiting to receive me. But, oh! had I \nput off the saving of my soul to this hour of \n\n\n\n49 \n\n\n\nweakness and suffering, where would I now be ? \nThank God, the way is perfectly clear before me !\' \nAll the while his soul seemed filled with the most \njoyful anticipations, and a heavenly smile lighted \nup his countenance. Surely, thought I, here is \none of God\'s chosen people; and it is a privilege \nto be present. May my last end be like his! On \nthe following Sabbath I paid my last tribute of \nrespect to his sacred dust/\' \n\nPeacefully, sweetly he fell asleep in J esus, and \nwaits, amid the saints made perfect, to welcome \nus to share with him those joys that have been \npurchased and prepared for all that love the \nLord. \n\nDear reader, perhaps you knew him well in \ndays gone by. Are you prepared to grasp his \nhand in joyful recognition, and sing with him the \nnew song in the mansions of the blessed, world \nwithout end ? \n5 \n\n\n\nDeacidified using the Bookkeeper proces< \nNeutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide \nTreatment Date: Nov. 2005 \n\nPreservationTechnoloqies \n\nA WORLD LEADER ,N PAPER PRESERVATION \n\n111 Thomson Park Drive \nCranberry Township, PA 16066 \n/724)779-2JU \n\n\n\n6f \n\n" 1 ? \n\n\n\n'