R Yes,' said she, 'I know that too. But thee knows that many who makes a great fuss about religion have very little, while some who say but little about it have a good deal.'

"That's sometimes the case, I fear, Sarah;' said I.

'Well, and that was the case,' said she, ‘with Benjamin Franklin. But, be that as it may, David, since thee asks me about this great picture, I'll teli thee how it came here. Many weeks ago, as he lay he beckoned me to him, and told me of this picture up stairs, and begged I would bring it to him. I brought it to him His face brightened up as he looked at it; and he said, 'Aye, Sarah,' said he, there's a picture worth looking at! that's the picture of him who came into the world to teach men to love one another! Then after looking wistfully at it for some time, he said, 'Sarah,' said he, set this picture up over the mantle piece, right before me as I lie; for I like to look at it,' and when I had fixed it up, he looked at it, and looked at it very much; and indeed, as thee sees, he died with his eyes fixed on it." "

Happy Franklin! Thus doubly blest! Blest in life, by a diligent co-working with "THE GREAT SHEPHERD," in his precepts of perfect love.-Blest in death, with his closing eyes piously fixed upon him, and meekly bowing to the last summons in joyful hope that through the force of his divine precepts, the "wintry storms" of hate will one day pass away, and one "eternal spring of love and peace encircle all."

Now Franklin in his life time had written for himself an epitaph, to be put upon his grave, that honest posterity might see that he was no unbeliever, as certain enemies had slandered him, but that he firmly believed "that his Redeemer liveth; and that in the latter day he shall stand upon the earth; and that though worms destroyed his body, yet in his flesh he should see God."

204

THE LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN.

FRANKLIN'S EPITAPH.

"THE BODY

OF

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, PRINTER,

LIKE THE COVER OF AN OLD BOOK,
its contents torn out,

and stript of its lettering and gilding,
lies here food for worms.

Yet the work itself shall not be lost;
for it will, as he believed, appear once more

IN A NEW

and more beautiful edition,
corrected and amended

BY

THE AUTHOR.”

But the

This epitaph was never put upon his tomb. friend of man needs no stone of the valley to perpetuate his memory. It lives among the clouds of heaven. The lightnings in their dreadful courses, bow to the genius of Franklin. His magic rods, pointed to the skies, still watch the irruptions of the FIERY METEORS. They seize them by their hissing heads as they dart forth from the dark chambers of the thunders; and cradled infants, half waked by the sudden glare, are seen to curl the cherub smile hard by the spot where the dismal bolts had fallen.