220 John Bachman. 



To HIS DAUGHTER JANE, IN NEW YORK. 



CHARLESTON, July 18th, 1846. 



" I wrote you two days ago. My mind was so 

 confused at the time, that I cannot recollect dis- 

 tinctly what I wrote. * * * 



My children have experienced a heavy loss, but 

 ah ! the heaviest falls on the devoted head of their 

 father. 



Yet it is God who rules our destiny and orders 

 our lot. His arm reaches from heaven to earth. 

 He who has given the life that now is, has also left 

 us the promise of that which is to come. When a 

 few years shall have passed away He will send his 

 angels to call us home. There we shall meet our 

 Lord in the peaceful land, where sorrow, sin, and 

 death are unknown. There our loved ones will be 

 restored to us, purified from all imperfections and 

 wearing the crown of immortality. 



My daughter, cherish these high hopes of our 

 religion, they are angels of Mercy sent to guide us 

 through the storm, and to lead us to the land beyond 

 death and the grave. 



God has promised never to leave us, or to forsake 

 us. It is true, God has sent death into our family 

 and caused our hearts to bleed but then it was the 

 virtuous dead, who died in the Lord. Has he not 

 saved us from dishonor and disgrace evils worse 

 than death ? 



It is true, that we ardently desired to retain our 

 loved one here sufferer as she was but, was it not, 

 after all, a selfish wish ? She was an intense suf- 

 ferer her moments of rest and joy were few and far 

 between. Long she had lingered with us at length 

 only a faint shadow of what she once was. Then 

 her Maker sent her a gentle, quiet rest from all her 

 sorrows. my beloved, sainted wife, may your 



