not venture among them to give them his parting counsels, and could now only intrust to their constituted guardians, this dear charge, with renewed exhortations to them to be faithful, as in the presence of their God, to those objects of his labors, his cares, his prayers, and his daily tears. Amid the sorrows of that long farewell, arose on the prophetic vision of the apostle some gloomy foreshadowings of future woes to fall on that Ephesian charge, and this deepened the melancholy feeling of his heart almost to agony. This no doubt was the burden of his last prayer, when with their elders, and for them, he kneeled down on the shore and sent up in earnest petition to God, that voice which they were doomed to hear no more forever.
Such passages as this in the life and words of Paul, constitute a noble addition to the reader's idea of his character. They show how nobly were intermingled in the varied frame of his spirit, the affectionate, the soft, and the winning traits, with the high, the stern, and the bitter feelings that so often were called out by the unparalleled trials of his situation. They show that that he truly felt and acted out, to the life, that divine principle of Christian love which inspired the most eloquent effort of his pen;—and that he trusted not to the wonder-working powers that moved his lips, as with the eloquence of men and angels,—not to the martyr-spirit, that, sacrificing all earthly substance, devoted itself to the raging flames of persecution, in the cause of God,—not to the genius whose discursive glance searched all the mysteries of human and divine knowledge,—but to that pure, exalted and exalting spirit of ardent love for those for whom he lived like his Savior, and for whom he was ready to die like him, also. This was the inspiration of his words, his writings, and his actions,—the motive and spirit of his devotion,—the energy of his being. Wherever he went and whatever he did,—in spite of the frequent passionate outbreaks of his rougher nature, this honest, fervent, animated spirit of charity,—glowing not to inflame, but to melt,—softened the austerities of his character, and kindled in all who truly knew him, a deep and lasting affection for him, like that which was so strikingly manifested on this occasion. Who can wonder that to a man thus constituted, the lingering Ephesians still clung with such enthusiastic attachment? In the fervid action of that oriental clime, they fell on his neck and kissed him, sorrowing most of all for the words which he said,—that they should see his face no more. Still loth to take their last look at
