“August 9. Endeavoured to put Dr. A.’s advice into execution, to bear the people to whom I was about to preach, fervently to the throne of grace.

“April 22. This day I performed a very interesting service in baptizing two adults, (young ladies) * * * * * I pray God, that the beneficial memory of it may continue with me, and with them, till the day of our death.”

At a somewhat later period, he again expresses the affectionate interest which he took in their welfare, and the hope which he entertained of their progress in true religion.

Most, if not all of these passages, were written many years ago.—What, it may be asked, was the state of his mind as he approached the termination of life?

Just before he was taken ill, his family read to him, by his own desire, the Book of Job, with Scott’s Observations; and being placed at that time under certain outward circumstances of discomfort, he was in the habit of applying what was read to his own case. The progress of disease presently incapacitated him, either for reading much himself, or of giving his attention to others. But I learn, from different friends, who had sometimes the opportunity of speaking to him, that his mind was always most awake to subjects of religion; and that, whenever he could be roused to mental exertion, these were the subjects which recalled, for a time, his decaying energies. The Sunday-week after his seizure, when one of his daughters was sitting with him, he laid his hand upon a book on the table, and asked what it was. Being informed that it was the Life of Hooker, he immediately began to repeat, in the words of that excellent man; “I have lived to see this world is made up of perturbations; and I have long been preparing to leave it; and gathering comfort for the dreadful hour of making my account with God,—and though I have, by his grace, loved him in my youth, and feared him in mine age; and laboured to have a conscience void of offence to Him and to all men; yet, if thou, O Lord, be extreme to mark what I have done amiss, who can abide it? And therefore, where I have failed, Lord, shew mercy to me; for I plead not my righteousness, but the forgiveness of my unrighteousness, for his merits who died to purchase a pardon for penitent sinners! And, since I owe thee a death, Lord, let it not be terrible, and then take thine own time; I submit to it: let not mine, O Lord, but thy will, be done!” This passage, it seems, he was much in the habit of repeating, doubtless from its expressing the views and feelings which he habitually entertained. In one of his last letters to the same daughter, he writes in these terms; “My frame has been so shattered, that I must not expect it to be speedily, perhaps, never thoroughly repaired. There is nothing I wish to live for, but the service of my Divine Master; and if I may but be favoured with the testimony of having pleased him, and possessing an interest in his love, I shall be willing to live or to die, as to him may appear best. Oh, my dear daughter, this should be our first, our last, our invariable object; we cannot dispense with its consolations in sickness, or its support in death.”

The only remaining paper to which I shall refer, was written when he was deprived by sickness of the privilege of public worship. [40]

“What a mercy it is,” he observes, “that, as well from the nature of God, as from his condescension, and the tenor of his promises, we can have access to him in privacy and solitude, when precluded, by sickness or other impediments, from worshipping him in public, and with the congregation of his saints. Of this mercy, I, who during many months have been confined to my bed, my chamber, or my house, desire to be deeply sensible, and to make it the subject of my most devout and grateful thanksgiving:—Pray to thy Father which is in secret:—ask,—seek,—knock,—draw nigh unto God; and every other direction of a similar tendency are of unlimited application; and the promises annexed to them may be depended on, as engaged to be made good as often as the direction is spiritually complied with, and faithfully performed.

Private worship, which consists in acts and offerings of prayer and praise, is the peculiar and spiritual duty of the invalid; and the privileges annexed to it are peculiarly his property. In this worship he ought to abound; he cannot perform it too frequently, and in proportion as he abounds and perseveres in the performance of it, may he expect the promised blessing. He may confess his sins, and supplicate the mercy of God in Christ, as frequently as he feels the guilt of the former, and his need of the latter;—he cannot confess or supplicate too often, he cannot ask too much, or with too great importunity; if he apply for spiritual things, and apply in faith, God’s ear is ever open to his cry; he will hear those that call upon him; he giveth liberally; and on those who ask abundantly, he will bestow abundantly, that their joy may be full.

“Nor is the invalid tied down to any particular form of words or mode of service. Having only God and himself to consider, he has no other concern than to make known his wants, and give expression to his feelings in such terms as are best adapted to lay open his heart to that God, who, he knows, seeth in secret, and who requireth to be worshipped in spirit and in truth. He may, therefore, consider himself at full liberty to contemplate the mercy of a reconciled God, in all the variety of its boundless dimensions; the privileges of acceptance, justification, and adoption, the unsearchable riches of Christ, and the immeasurable consolation of the Spirit, as a property of which he is invited freely to partake: he may come boldly to the throne of grace, he may obtain mercy and grace to help him in every time of need, and look up continually with unfeigned hope and increasing confidence to that God who, over and above the future inheritance of the saints in light, will here supply all our need, according to his riches in glory, by Christ Jesus.” [42]

In contemplating a man of this character, of piety so scriptural, and of talents, which, for variety and power, are rarely to be found; we might perhaps have expected, that he would long be spared to assist in carrying on that work of mercy, which, through the divine goodness, had already prospered so wonderfully in his hands; but,—God’s thoughts are not our thoughts, nor His ways our ways:—he has been taken away in the midst of his usefulness. We might have expected, that in his last hours he would have been permitted to testify of that Saviour whom he served, and of the power of that gospel which he had laboured to spread throughout the world. But, such was the mysterious appointment of Providence, his vigorous mind seemed to sink under the weight of the disorder which was fatal to the body. Would it not have been better, we are ready to ask, that he should be called away by a sudden death? No; for to God it seemed otherwise: and, although he was for several weeks previous to his dissolution able to say little, and although it was difficult, towards the close of life, to excite in him any sensible apprehension; yet since, if ever he was roused to any portion of his former energy, it was when the chord of religion was touched; since there was something within which answered to that sound, when all besides was silent, the testimony thus given was neither unsatisfactory nor unimportant. How strong in his mind must have been the influence of that heavenly principle, which, amidst the wreck of his mental, as well as bodily powers, could still survive, and still give proof of its existence!

And shall we be sorry, as men, without hope, for them that sleep in Jesus? I heard a voice from heaven, saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth;—Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours, and their works do follow them. It becomes us to be thankful, in the behalf of our brother, that he now rests from all his anxieties; that the cares, and conflicts, and vexations of life, can disturb him no more. Some of these trials were deeply painful; but if we could ask what now are his thoughts of them, and what are his present sentiments of the course which he pursued, would he tell us, think you, that he repents of his devotedness to the cause of piety and truth? That, if his days could be recalled, he would be less active, less zealous, less persevering? Does he wish that he had listened more to the voice of man, and less to that of conscience? That instead of consecrating his talents to the highest purposes, he had employed them to secure worldly distinctions and worldly emoluments? Did he, while yet struggling with the evils of mortality, record, in the very midst of his trials, how sweet it was to have toiled in this work? And does he repent of his exertions, and his sacrifices, now that he rests from his labours, and his works do follow him? If it were no subject of regret to him in this world, is it such in the world to which he is gone? Oh, if we could at present perceive, as we shall know hereafter, the vanity and emptiness of all earthly things, when contrasted with those which are spiritual and eternal; how earnestly should we seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness! And how trifling would all other objects appear, when compared with that great object of promoting the glory of God!

To him, whom we now bear in our affectionate recollection, we are well persuaded that to die was gain. Ours is the loss: and how deeply it is felt, this present assembly can witness. But shall we mourn then for the great cause to which his labours were devoted? And especially for that Institution, which is now deprived of his services? Did the success of it depend upon human talent or human energy, the loss might indeed be irreparable: but whatever becomes of the agents of the Society, if it have the sanction of God, it cannot fail to prosper. Whatever be the fate of the Society itself, the work which it has so successfully laboured to promote, will eventually triumph. The ways of God will, ere long, be known throughout the earth, his saving health among all nations. For, from the rising of the sun, even to the going down of the same, my name shall be great among the Gentiles: and in every place incense shall be offered unto my name, and a pure offering; for my name shall be great among the heathen, saith the Lord of Hosts. Already, as we may venture to hope, has an impulse been given, which shall not be destroyed till it has reached the farthest nations of the globe. Amidst all the conflicts and disappointments of the world, Divine Providence is still steadily accomplishing its plans of mercy and benevolence, and in due season they shall all be fulfilled. In expressing our gratitude for having been permitted to see the progressive advancement of the kingdom of Christ in our own days, and to share in the privilege of making known more extensively the glad tidings of salvation, let us recognise our duty and zealously discharge it. Let the death of those that have toiled in this service, stimulate the industry of them that survive: let every event of this kind be felt as a call to increased energy and activity in all good works: that when this world of strife and perturbations shall close upon us, we too may die in the Lord: and, finally, with all his faithful people, may have our perfect consummation and bliss, both in body and soul, in his eternal and everlasting glory.

THE END.