Death of a Soul-Sleeper


Mrs. Mattie Campbell relates the happy death of her sister, a soul-sleeper, which occurred last May. It seems that her views were changed just before she entered heaven.


In Sabbath-school this afternoon a message came: “Emma is dying. Come quickly if you want to see her alive.” My dear sister. We had played together, and more than all, we dreamed dreams of the fairy future, wherein we saw everything but care and temptation crowning the golden pathway for our jubilant feet. She was plump amid rosy, full of laughter and frolic, which life’s stern realities had not subdued. Strong and well I had seen her, but five days before. Yet, ah! In such an hour as ye think not the Son of Man cometh.


On our way the sad face of our family physician confirmed the truth. ‘She may linger until sundown,’ he said; and all the way I prayed, and felt it would be answered


‘Lord, dear Lord, only let me have one word to know how it is with her soul.’ Mother met me at the door. This was a heavy grief. ‘Ask how it is with her soul,’ said she.

I entered the room filled with weeping friends. I pressed the damp, damp, cold brow. She knew me, and spoke in the old sweet way. Soon I commenced slow and low the hymn we used to sing together: ‘Jesus, lover of my soul,’ while I anxiously watched to catch a mark of grace upon her fast changing features.


A happy, peaceful smile broke over her face. I bent down and she spoke: ‘God was always good to us, sister. He has not given me one harsh word since I came down to my bed.’ How the praise rushed to my lips. ‘He giveth and upbraideth not.’ Glory be to His name!

“Divinely assured that she was dying, she spoke of a long, sweet sleep, the sleep of the soul and body, until the general resurrection-for this was her belief. She called for one and another of her friends and neighbors, and exhorted them in burning words to meet her in heaven, charging them to bring their families for whom they were also responsible.


“With mind clear and composed, she then lay, waiting to pass into an unconscious slumber, only to awaken at the last trump. ‘Hark,’ said she, listening intently ‘I hear music; don’t you hear it? And mother, I see a door.’ ‘Is it open?’ asked her mother. And we held our breath as she answered. ‘Yes, it is open.’ ‘ Do you see inside?’ Hex face grew radiant as she answered: ‘


Yes, I see inside. It is a beautiful place. It is heaven. I see forms clothed in white, many, yes, a multitude of beautiful beings, their hands upraised, while they are waving something in their hands.’ And then in wonder and astonishment ‘Why, there’s Pa!’

od-bye’s were said, and in childlike pleading tones she called ‘Come, dear Lord, I am ready; come now, and take my breath, it hurts me so.’ An effort on her part to close the dear eyes and mouth, a few more agonizing moments, and the open door received her gentle spirit. We led the bereaved mother from the room, all that was left of my happy childhood days.” - Earnest Christian.


Touching Incidents and Remarkable Answers to Prayer - 1893

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