« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »
with, honesty in his dealings, punctuality in his engagements, and temperance in his habits-with no common degree, of tenderness and sympathy towards all in adversity,--procured him a lucrative, and extensive practice? To sum up, he was "all" that could be expected from one, not (in the strictest sense) a believer in Christ: and that, he never professed to be, "but He that judgeth all things, is the Lord!"
At the commencement of the present year, (I gather) he found his health upon the decline; but having always been disposed to make light of his own infirmities, so did he, likewise, of this. He continued to fail, for some weeks; and was obliged, at length, to leave business-which he did the first of February. The first of March, he proposed seeing the physicians of Boston; for which purpose he left his home, unattended, in the stage. On visiting them, at the hospital there, he received but little encouragement, excepting from a sea voyage:-and for this, he proceeded directly on, by the stage, to Providence, in Rhode Island. Here, he mailed a letter to his family, and embarked in the steam packet, directly for New-York. In that city, he remained a number of days; and seeing but little likelihood of a recovery, he spoke of returning to his friends:-That, he did not decide to do, whereas, but embarked again in the "schooner Spy," (Smith, master,) for Charleston.
After four-day's sail, he gained this port; which was the 16th instant. His fellow-passengers, the
* Mr. & Mrs. Weaver, of New York-he having come also for the recovery of his health.
day following, removed to the shore; but himselfbeing taken very ill-made no efforts to that end. On the 18th, which was the sabbath, Dr. Wagner heard of a medical gentleman, on board the vessel at the wharf; and kindly made him a visit. He was then sitting in his chair, and conversed with cheerfulness:-insensible as the Doctor supposed, that his dissolution was so near. He saw him as a dying man, and insisted on his being removed to the shore. He manifested, at first, considerable reluctance; but after some entreaty, he was conveyed by the kind physician, to the house of Mr. Estill. Although he had been brought in a carriage, but a short distance, it so much exhausted him, that he was laid on a temporary bed, in the parlour,-from whence he never rose again. Seeing the spark of life almost extinct, and that he was much inclined for sleep-they avoided making any enquiries. On Monday, he asked Mrs. E., if she ever heard of one by the name of that travelled the world as a preacher; and added, "she is my sister."* One asked, If he would have the minister sent for, to pray with him,To which he replied, "There is no occasion for that." He sometimes appeared, in a measure, delirious; and spoke as if to his family, at home:-but with that pleasantness and composure, ever peculiar to himself. He discovered, no desire for any thing he had not;-wished little attention to be paid him, and appeared perfectly
*It is very probable, that he thought I might possibly be in that country; and he might see me. (0, how quickly would I have flew to his relief!)
calm and resigned, even unto the end. When informed by Dr. W, of his approaching change, and asked of him, "Whether he should write to his wife"-he replied, (without the least apparent anxiety,) "I know that I am ill,-but will write myself, to-morrow." The P-n* minister made him a visit, an hour before his departure;—but deemed it inexpedient to disturb him by prayers, as he then seemed quite beyond all knowledge of the passing scenes, of "time and sense:"-Thus, at 7 o'clock, (or as one said, at half past 6,) on Tuesday evening, the eventful moment came!-The silver-cord, at length, was loosed, and life's fragile wheels, revolved no more! Having lain for a number of hours, as in quiet slumber, his breath, at length, grew shorter and shorter,-and without a sigh, struggle, or a groan,-even as a tender babe, he softly yielded up his soul, to God that gave it;and of pain, I trust, he knew no more, for ever!!A smiling, peaceful countenance, was then, the only "testimonial" to the enquiring stranger,-Of the repose of that bosom, the harbingers of grim death, had no power to disturb!
On Wednesday, P. M., at 4 o'clock, his funeral was attended, of a respectable auditory, at the house where he died;-and a prayer was made by Mr. Crook, Methodist preacher. His dear remains were then conveyed in a hearse, to the Methodist burying ground-attended by the "preacher and
* He usually attended their ministry.
Called Trinity Church yard,-where lays the dust of Mr. Hammet, the founder of the chapel, &c. &c.
sexton," Capt. Smith, Dr. W-, Mr. E-, and fifty or sixty other neighbouring merchants and gentlemen. The usual ceremony was also performed at the grave, and his dust was cominitted to its mother earth, there to sleep,-.
Until the voice that shakes creation,.
While I have thus to record the things so extremely painful,-which, justice to departed worth, prompts me to do,-it is with violence to the tenderest, deepest, emotions of my bosom. One to whom I was allied, as by nature's strongest, dearest, ties,—with whom my earliest years were spent, beneath the same roof-by the same fireside-and at the same table;-lying buried at my side, has often, quite forbade my pen its motion. Were it not that he is always presented to my view, as smiling-and tenderly urging that I might spare my tears,- -as for weeping, on his account, there was no cause,-I could not possibly have effected the object of my purpose. But, since the first dreadful struggle, I have ever felt an inward prohibition, to doubt his being a sharer of the triumphs of Heaven, or that he was in the presence of his God-for ever blest!
I am firmly persuaded of him, that he was a partaker of renovating grace, in the earliest stage of his youth. But by concealing that light, that shone upon him, as many others do, it became obscure: and he consequently groped with the multitude, in the wild maze of sin. Afterwards,
being much caressed of the affluent, and the gay, it is hence, not a difficult matter to account for his forgetfulness of the things, he once so highly prized. But the opinion of my Sister Sspecting him, corresponded, precisely with my own impulse, That, in his last illness, he literally forsook all for Christ. He saw that the Lord was about to remove him from earth,-according to what had been repeatedly suggested to him;hence, methinks he said, "To remain where I am, is to die!-My own treacherous heart hath often deceived me; and in my most earnest attempts to submit all to Christ, there has always been still a reserve In what manner, therefore, am I to obtain a substantial witness, that I surrender all— but by doing it, in deed, and in truth. I hence, resign up to Thee, O Thou compassionate Redeemer, and Friend of sinners!-the companion of my youth, my only son,-my earthly possessions, all;-my life, my breath. Dispose of me, as it may seem Thee, good!. If I am sent to darkness, and the pit, I will pronounce the sentence just! But thy mercy-so amazing, that saved a persecuting Saul,- -a dying thief, can also rescue a rebel such as me!-and the soul-reviving word impart"This day thou shalt be with me in Paradise!”
It, moreover, to me appears, That he felt, so deeply convicted of his ingratitude to his Maker, and all his heart-wanderings, that he was willing, could it be done in any degree, to atone for them