upon her. She sang snatches of
sweet songs, following which I said but little. When I addressed her,
'My dear daughter, you will soon rejoin your noble mother,' she
answered, 'Oh, yes, and what rapture will I enjoy!' I fell down at her
bedside, and again committed her soul to the almighty and enduring care
of God. Then just before I went to my lecture I went to see her again: I
asked her if she still remembered the hymn, 'Thou art mine, because I
hold thee;' when she said, 'Oh yes,' and repeated the verse, 'O Lord my
refuge, Fountain of my Joys.' 'Yes, eternal,' I added. I left her,
thinking that she might last considerably longer. But I was suddenly
called from my lecture, when I again committed her grand spirit to God
who gave it, and closed her eyes myself. My bitter grief now subsided
into calm affliction, and a sweet acquiescence with the wise will of
God. Now I know what the real joy is of having seen a child die so
calmly, and of feeling that I had some share in the training that could
end so triumphantly. And I still publicly thank those of her teachers
who have contributed to the formation of her character. Therefore, when
some would in our days advocate an unchristian education, I can speak
with the light of experience, when I earnestly recommend to all pious
and provident parents to give their children a good Christian training.
Thus Christian-like and beautifully have Christian-trained people been
dying these many centuries."

It is astonishing that a man could live as purely and devotedly as
Semler, and yet make the gulf so wide between private faith and public
instruction. We attribute no evil intention to him in his theological
labors; these were the result of his own mental defects. He was a
careless writer, and not a close thinker. He read history loosely, and
the philosophy of the Christian system was unperceived and unappreciated
by him. He looked at single defects, and magnified them to such an
extent that they obscured whole mines of truth and virtue. Having
conceived a vague idea of his theme, he wrote hurriedly upon it. He was
impelled by his previous notions and the excitement of the hour. He had
a very retentive memory, but it was no aid to correct reasoning. When he
saw one evil of the Fathers, a mistake of the church, or a defect in her
doctrine, he generalized it until he believed error to be the rule
instead of the exception. It has been said that, toward the close of his
life, he regretted