He had long been a very useful and willing helper in the small Quarterly Meeting, of which he was a member; and a true sympathizer with the afflicted, taking heed to the apostolic injunction, “Bear ye one anothers burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.” Deep and fervent were his desires for the welfare of our Society, for the maintenance of all our religious testimonies, and that its members might be redeemed from the influence and spirit of the world.
In the early part of his illness, he remarked that “it was surprising to himself, how entirely he could leave all earthly things; he had desired to leave all to Him who doeth all things well; and to commit himself into the hands of his dear Saviour.”
At another time, he said, “I am very gently and mercifully dealt with, I feel that I am a poor unfaithful creature, but I consider it a favour to be made sensible of this, for it is only of divine mercy that we can rightly feel our need.” Thus kept in humble reliance upon the mercy of God, in Christ Jesus his Saviour, he was permitted to repose on that “Anchor to the soul which is sure and steadfast,” and to cast all his care upon our compassionate and ever present Redeemer.
He died at Nantwich, at the house of Croudson Tunstall, whose own death took place little more than a month afterwards.
William Newsom, Limerick. 62 6mo. 18 1850
In affixing a few lines to this name, the desire is simply to arrest the attention of any reader, who may be too closely engaged in temporal things; giving their strength to that which cannot profit, and not sufficiently pondering the passing nature of all terrestrial things.
William Newsom had been extensively engaged in commerce through great part of his life, and there was reason to fear he was unduly absorbed by its cares and allurements: for the last year or more, he appeared to be becoming more sensible that disappointment was stamped upon his pursuits; his bodily health heretofore unbroken, began also to decline, and it was comfortingly believed by his friends, that this and other revolving circumstances, were tending to turn the energies of his mind from perishable, to imperishable objects. A few months before his decease, it became still more evident, that the hand of his heavenly Father was laid upon him in mercy; and on one occasion, he remarked, “that he saw
nothing in the world worth living for, it abounded in trouble and disappointment, all outward things were stained in his eyes, there was nothing but religion that could be of any avail for any of us; and it mattered not when we were taken—young, old, or middle aged—if we were but ready, that was the great point!” His experience, however, during the last few days of his life shewed, that although the ground might have been prepared, the work was by no means effected; deep and sore conflict was then his portion, and oh! with what fervency did he call upon his Saviour, beseeching him in his mercy to be pleased to look down upon his poor unworthy creature, for he alone could help in that awful hour. Once he exclaimed, “what could all the world do for me now?” His wife, under great exercise of spirit, replied, “Nothing! the best, when laid upon such a bed as thou art, have nothing to look to or depend upon, but the mercy of the Saviour;” the poor sufferer earnestly pleaded that that mercy might be extended to him, remarking, “He has all power in heaven and in earth.” He then fervently prayed that the Lord would save his never dying soul. It is believed, that whilst his many
sins of omission and commission were brought vividly before his view, by the unflattering witness, he was made very fully sensible that the great work of salvation rests between the soul of man and his Creator, and that “no man can redeem his brother, or give to God a ransom for him.” Through the night, he was mostly engaged in prayer, with uplifted hands invoking for mercy and forgiveness.
Some time before his death, the great conflict of mind he had been under, appeared to subside, and to be succeeded by a sweet calm, and he intimated to his wife, that he felt comfortable and satisfied. Till within half an hour of the close, prayer continued flowing from his lips, the last audible sounds being an appeal to the Lord; and but a few minutes before he ceased to breathe, a conscious look at his dear wife, seemed to say, “all is peace;” and it was granted to her exercised spirit to believe, that the unshackled soul when released, was received into a mansion of rest, through the mercy and merits of his Lord and Saviour. In reference to that impressive hour this dear relative writes,—“Oh! how many times that solemn night, did I long that all the world could feel the great necessity, whilst in