IMAGE EVA<.UATION
TEST TARGET (MT-S)

{./

^ >.

:/.

I/.

1.0

I.I

1.25

21 12.5

1^ y^ I

lit

U£

IIHI
I

2.2

2.0

^1^

^#..

^^'^^v

'^'

='J

Hiotographic

^,Sciences

Goiporatioii

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

CIHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHM/ICMH
Collection de
microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques

Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques

The Institute has attempted to obtain the best
original copy available for filming. Features of this
copy which may be bibliographically unique,
which may alter any of the images in the
reproduction, or which may significantly change
the usual method of filming, are ch<fcked below.

Coloured covers/
Couverture de couleur

I I Covers damaged/

Couverture endommag^e

Covers restored and/or laminated/
Couverture restaurte et/ou pellicul6e

I I Cover title missing/

Le titre de couverture manque

Coloured maps/

Cartes g^ographiques en couleur

Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/
Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bieue ou noire)

Coloured plates and/or illustrations/
Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur

Bound with other material/
Rel\6 avec d'autres documents

Tight binding ma" cause shadows or distortion
along interior margin/

La re liure serr6e peut causer de I'ombre ou de la
distortion le long de la marge int^rieure

Blank leaves added during restoration may
appear within the text. Whenever possible, these
have been omitted from filming/
II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajouttes
lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte,
male, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont
pas 6t6 fiim^es.

Additional comments:/
Commentaires suppl6mentaires:

Th
to

L'Institut a microfiimi le meilleur exempiaire
qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les details
de cet exempiaire qui sont peut-Atre uniques du
point de vue bibliographiT^u^, qui peuvent modifier
une image reproduite, o ,i qui peuvent exiger une
modification dans la m^thode normale de filmage
sont indiquAs ci-dessous.

I I Coloured pages/

This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/

Ce document est filmi au taux de reduction indiquA ci-dessous.

Pages de couleur

Pages damaged/ .
Pageii endommagies

Pages restored and/oi

Pages restauries et/ou peiliculies

Pages discoloured, stained or foxet
Pages d6coior6es, tacheties ou piqu6es

Pages detached/
Pages d6tach6es

Showthroughy
Transparence

Quality of prir

Quality indgale de I'impression

Includes supplementary materii
Comprend du materiel suppl^mentaire

Only editio 1 i»vailable/
Seule Edition disponible

□ Pages damaged/
Pagei»

I — I Pages restored and/or laminated/

r~y| Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/

|~~| Pages detached/

r^ Showthrough/

I I Quality of print varies/

I I Includes supplementary material/

r~n Only editio 1 i»vailable/

of
fill

Oi
bfl
th
si<
ot
fir
sii
or

Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata
slips, tissues, etc., have been ref limed to
ensure the best possible image/
Les pages totalement ou partiellement
obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une peiure,
etc., ont 6t6 filmtes A nouveau de fapon A
obtenir la meilleure image possible.

Tf
sh
Tl

M
dil
er
be

rl|

rei

10X

14X

18X

22X

26X

30X

12X

16X

20X

24X

28X 32X

ails

>difier

une

nage

The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks
to the generosity of:

Library of the Public
Archives of Canada

The images appearing here are the best quality
possible considering the condition and legibility
of the original copy and in keeping with the
filming contract specifications.

L'exempiaire film* fut reproduit grAce A la
gAnirositi de:

La bibliothAque des Archives
pubiiques du Canada

Les images suivantes ont *t6 reproduites avec te
plus grand soin. compte tenu de la condition at
de la nettetA de l'exempiaire fiimA, et en
conformity avec les conditions du contrat de
filmage.

Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed
beginning with the front cover and ending on
the last page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All
other original copies are filmed beginning on the
first page with a printed or illustrated Impres-
sion, and ending on the last page with a printed
or illustrated impression.

Les exempiaires originaux dont la couverture en
papier est imprimte sont fiimis en commen^ant
par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la
dernlAre page qui comporte une empreinte
d'impression ou d'iiiustration. soit par le second
plat, salon le cas. Tous les autres exempiaires
originaux sont flimAs en commen9ant par la
premlAre page qui comporte une empreinte
d'impression ou d'iiiustration et en terminant par
la dernlAre page qui comporte une telle
empreinte.

The last recorded frame on each microfiche
shall contain the symbol ^»> (meaning "CON-
TINUED"), or the symbol ▼ (meaning "END"),
whichever applies.

Un des symboies suivants apparaftra sur la
dernldre image de cheque microfiche, seion le
cas: le symbols — ► signifie "A SUIVRE ', ie
symbols V signifie "FIN".

Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at
different reduction ratios. Those too large to be
entirely included in one exposure are filmed
beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to
right ard top to bottom, as many frames as
required. The following diagrams Illustrate the
method:

Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent 6tre
filmto it des taux de reduction diffirents.
Lorsque le document est trop grand pour Atre
reproduit en un seul clichA, 11 est filmA A partir
de Tangle supArieur gauche, de gauche A droits,
et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre
d'images nAcessalre. Les diagrammes suivants
illustrent la mAthode.

rrata
o

lelure,
lA

32X

1 2 3

■!»"

THE /^

.*v.

rUEACHED AT AI-BURCiH, VT.

OiV THE 22d OF APRIL, 1822,

OxN THE DEATH OF

PHILYER LOOP, ESQ. ^T. 44.

BY THE UEV. MICA J AH TOWNSEND,
Hector of Caldmll and Christie Manors, L. C.

"Bltssed are tl;e dead which die in the Lord fioui heoceforUi."

Rev. 14, 10.

"O death, wlieic is iby oling ? O grave wheie is thy victory ?"

U. Cor. 15, 55.

BURLINGTON, Vt.

PttlNTKD BY E. AXD T. MILLS.

1833.

• 1

>>^nJ^.'*/^'^"^*^'^'^^ **^-^ ''•'^•'•

/ "<

7"-'^

THE

**A»d Jesus said unto hinii Verily I say unto ihee^ to-day
sbalt thou be with me in Paradise "^-'Luke 23, 43.

It is impossible for any one, who has a heart to feel,
and a soul to save, to peruse, without deep and solemn
interest, the record of the sufferings and crucifixion of
Jesus Christ. The grand and magnificent scene which
is here presented to our view, of an Omnipotent Sav-
iour, assuming human nature for the suffering of death,
and taking upon himself the responsibility and guilt of
a whole race of rebels, cannot be contemplated with-
out wonder and admiration.

The object of his humiliations and sufferings, which
was so truly great, so truly godlike, gave additional
dignity and grandeur to the sacrifice ; and the majesty
with which his sufferings were endured, and termina-
ted, induced a modern skeptick to say, that while
**Socrutes died like a Philosopher, Jesus Christ died
like a God,"

His mission upon earth was a mission of mercy ; this
divine attribute shown forth in all its native loveliness
and glory, in every trait of his personal character ; and
in the doctrines and promises of his Gospel, he hath
bequeathed to a sinful world the richest legacy of mer-
cy. Every christian, who has consulted this blessed
charter of salvation, must be familiar with those nu*

■^

' 4

mcrous instances recorded, in which the divine benev-
olence of the Saviour was manifested for the relief of
human misery. The ignorant were instructed in that
wisdom which cometh from above ; the wicked were
reproved with authority ; the humble penitent
was consoled with the assurance of pardon ; the bro-
ken heart was healed, and the desponding spirit cheer-
ed, with the soothing accents of mercy ; bodily disea-
ses were alleviated ; devils were cast out and their prey
delivered ; the dead were raised to life Again, and the
sins of those who believed in Jesus were forgiven. His
benevolence flowed from a source which could not be
exhausted by exercise, nor diverted from its course by
obstacles ; even in the midst of Kis bitterest persecu-
tions, it did not fail to discover itself on every possible
occasion. When he was reviled, he reviled not again ;
when he was persecuted, he blessed j when he was ar-
rested with weapons of slaughter, he healed the wound,
which one of his enemies had received in the contest j
when he was threatened, at the bar of Pilate, he pallia-
ted the conduct of him who was about to pronounce
the sentence of death upon him, by assuring that ty-
rant, that even in that horrid act, he was less culpable
than they who had delivered him to his power j when
he was accused, he answered not ; when he was buf-
feted; he suffered in silence ; when he was condemned,
he appealed not from the illegal and bloody sentence j
"He was brought as a lamb to the slaughter j and as the
sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not
his mouth." When he approached the cross, and be-
held all the implements of death collected to mangle

T7^

and torture his body, not a murmur escaped him ; he
shuddered not at the sight, for his agony was past. —
When his blood-thirsty enemies had completed their
part in this work of death, by suspending him on the
cross, to suffer all the pains ot a protracted dissolution,
he at length opened his mouth ; but what was the sen-
tence which he uttered ? Was it a malediction upon his
enemies? No! but, **Father, forgive them, lor they
know not what they do." He heard in silence the
railing of the multitude, in which one of the malcfectors
united, who was crucified with him j but when from
the other, the accents of penitence and faith reached his
ear, "Lord, remember mc, when thou comest into thy
kingdom," he turned and addressed him in the gra-
cious words of our text, — "Verily, I say unto thee, to-
day shalt thou be with me in Paradise."

It was in this spirit of benevolence and mercy, that
these words were uttered j and they were pronounced
by him, who had power to ensure the fulfilment of
what he promised ; for he soon demonstrated to the
world, that he had the keys of Death and the Grave,
and that the destinies of the invisible world were all
subject to his control.

The Paradise, to which the Saviour here promises to
introduce <he penitent malefactor, is generally supposed
to be a receptacle in the unseen world, prepared of
God to receive the souls of the righteous, when they
leave their earthly habitation ; there they are to re-
main in a state of qualified happiness, till the day of fi-
nal judgement, when they will be summoned to the
bar, in one grand assembly, to receive their full, their

^mm

everlasting reward. Of this depository of the Saints,
St. John had a view, when he "saw under the altar the
souls of them that were slain for the word of God,
and the testimony which they held." Here also was
the Patriarch Abraham, when he received into his bo-
som the pious beggar Lazarus* And it is but reasonable
to conclude from analogy, that a receptacle is also pre.
pared for the souls of the wicked, during the interme.
diate space between death and judgement. This place
is frequently alluded to in scripture, under the appella-
tion of /f^//; and to this prison, the rich man in the
Gospel was consigned, who supplicated Abraham for
relief.

But not to the penitent Chief on the cross, alone, hag
the blessed Saviour promised this paradise of rest ;
thousands of immortal beings, who have turned to
Christ the eye of penitence, and addressed to him the
prayer of futh,like him, have found shelter and salva*
tion in his cheering promises. And we, my dear hear-
ers, and every other child of Adam, need the consoling
assurance, which Christ here gave to this dying man.-—
If we have not stolen from man, as he had done, we
have done what is worse, we have robbed our Maker ;
If the laws of our land have not condemned us, yet the
more fearful laws of Heaven have already pronounced
us guilty. It is from the weightier judgements of eter-
nity, which never, never end, that we are to seek de-
liverance *, it is from the death that never dies, that sin-
ners are timely snatched by the mercy of Jesus Christ.
How seasonably did this mercy interpose in behalf of
the poor culprit on the cross, at once displaying the

^^^

glory of the Saviour in the midst of his ignominy, and
plucking the sinking soul from the jaws of perdition ?
Behold, what a spectacle of wretchedness this unhappy
victim exhibits ! He is cut off from society in the midst
of his days ; his life is forfeited to the violated laws,
and endless disgrace and infamy are entailed on his
memory. All hopes of pardon for his crimes from any
human tribunal are extinguished, for the ministers of
justice are performing their last awful duties. If he
turn his eye to the future, all is there dark, and gloomy
and hopeless : for the same crimes which demanded
his execution here, will meet and witness against him
at the more awful tribunal of Heaven, from the deci-
sions of which, there is no appeal. In this dreadful ex.
tremity, he feels contrition for his sins ; he confesses
the justice of his sentence ; he reproves the partner of
his guilt for not fearing God ; he proclaims the inno-
cence of the Saviour, who had done nothing amiss ; per-
haps he had heard of his fame, and seen his miracles,
and knew that the malice of his enemies, and not th&
violation of law, had procured his condemnation ; and
beholding the Godlike dignity and virtue of his suffer-
ings, he believes that he is the Son of God, and with
reverence addresses him as a Being able to afford him
deliverance from the wrath to come,-*-**Lord, remem-
ber me when thou comest into thy kingdom."

This prayer, tho* short, was sincere and effectual', it
was the language of penitence, conviction and faith ; it
came from the heart, and produced from the Saviour
this gracious reply,— "Verily 1 say unto thee, to-day
shalt thou be with me in Paradise."

Very few, probably, would have been willing to have
oxxhanged conditions with this dying malefactor. But
liow, let me usk, is our situation, without the promise
of paradise, preferable to his who had received that
promise ? He was sentenced to suffer temporal death
on the cross ; we, without repentance, arc already c6n-
demned to eternal death. His contrition, though late,
had procured for him a general amnesty for all his sins
from the '.hrone of Mercy, and conciliated the favour of
him, v/ho was to sit in judgement on his soul ; we are
still enemies of God, still exposed to the judgements
due to our sins, unless we also have trodden the path of
penitence and godly sorrow. Altho* our lives are not
visibly threatened with so speedy a termination as his,
who was writhing upon the cross while he made peace
with his Saviour, yet a thousand unseen casualties arc
lurking around us, and death may be even nearer to us
than it was to him ; but if otherwise, of what mo-
ment are a few transient days of vanity, in comparison
with the magnitude of those events, and the vastness of
eternity, which await us beyond the tomb ? and yet,
who of you, my dear hearers, hav.e so addressed to
Christ the prayer of penitence and faith as to obtain
the consoling assurance, which cheered the spirit of this
dying man ? Ye, who are living, can answer for your-
selves ; and I solemnly charge you before God, to put
the question to your own hearts with that honesty and
truth, which eternity will soon constrain you to use.

I could point you to one, to whom the merciful Sav-
iour hath given this blessed assurance — but he has al-
ready gone to enjoy that paradise of rest ; and while

and

our tears of regret arc falling around his lifeless re-
mains, his deathless spirit is proving the truth of those
promises on which he relied. I could direct you to one,
whose eyes the Saviour hath opened, aod anointed with
the eye-salve of faith — but his mortal organs are now
closed in death — they have become insensible to sur-
rounding objects ; no more on earth shall they beam
with intelligence, or weep for affliction. Thtf tear of
penitence for his sins, the tear of affection for the be-
loved objects he was about to leave, and the tear of joy
and gratitude for the mercy of God, I have beheld,
successively trembling in those eyes, which must now
sleep in the tomb, till the morn of the resurrection shall
dawn upon them, till they shall open upon the Saviour
in his glory. Yea, I could refer you to one, whose
tongue, though wholly unused to pray, had learnt, even
upon the threshold q( eternity, the language of prayer
and praise ; and I would now call upon him for his tes-
timony — but he hath already given it to the world, and
death has now sealed his mortal lips in lasting silence.

You need not the assurance, that I allude to our much
lamented friend and brother, whose decease has called
together this mourning assembly. Seldom, if ever,
have I witnessed more fully, and clearly, the power and
efficacy of the christian religion, in purifying the heart
by faith, and in completing its triumph over the an-
guish of dissolving nature and the alarms of death,
than in the instance now before us. To him, the faith
of the gospel had disrobed the monster of his terrors,
and converted his horrid ghastliness into the aspect of a
cordial friend. He scarcely felt the pains that were

.oosening the cords of life, wliile he contemplated the
magnificence of the atonement, and the blessedness that
awaited him in the kingdom of God.

He has now closed all his connections with man ; he
is withdrawn from a participation of all earthly con-
cerns. Let us, who survive, pause for a moment, and
contemplate the destiny that awaits us all ; for the
spectacle which he now exhibits to us, we must shortly,
in our turn, exhibit to the world. God grant, that we
may be as well prepared as he was, to receive the aw-
ful summons.

As we have assembled, to show our respect to his
memory, and to consign his mortal remains to that si-
'ent mansion appointed for all the living, it may not be
irrelevant to the occasion or foreign to our feelings, to
call to remembrance some of the most prominent traits
in the character which he has sustained through life.

This tribute is due, both to his memory, which all
who knew him must respect, and to our own improve-
m^it of the important instruction which it affords us.

It will not be necessary, nor can it be expected, that
on this occasion I should descend to a minute detail of
particulars, but only bring to your view a summary or
general out-line of his character. In doing this, I shall
notice.

I. His integrity as a man ;

II His usefulness as a member of the community ^

III. His benevolence ;

IV. His domestic virtues ; and

V. His religion.

I enter with no ordinary pleasure on this part of my

subject, confident, as I am, that my sentiments are cor-
roborated in the breast of every good man ; and tho*
nothing new will be elicited, which is not already
known to you all, I am certain that my feelings and
wishes to do justice to departed worth, will ba cordially
reciprocated by every one. To me, it would be a two-
fold source of gratification, if, while I attempt to re-
vive in your recollection the memory of his virtues,
you would be excited to imitate them.

I. I shall notice his Integrity as a man.

This was a quality which was discoverable in all his
actions, whether of a public or a private nature ; it
flowed from those fixed principles of rectitude, which
he had early imbibed, and from which he iiever dared
to depart.

You have long known him in his intercourse with
mankind, and his commercial occupation rendered that
intercourse general through the vicinity* ; yet let me
ask, has ;;my one known him to oppress the poor ? I
dare to answer — none, for he was always the poor
man's friend. Is there any one whom he has defraud-
ed ? any one who has known him, for the sake of gain,
tarnish his reputation by a dishonest act ? — I appeal, not
to strangers, but to you, who have known him as a fa-
miliar acquaintance ; and I would to God, that over
the ashes of many, who have long borne the christian
name, a similar appeal might be made with as much
safety. If there is any one who can testify against his
integrity, let him speak, and restitution shall be made.

*The deceased had beeo for maoy years eogaged in commeicial bu-

Buiess,

I wait for a reply.— What ! None ? — Th6n was his In-
tegrity unblemished, and

" The iweet reneoibraace of the jurt
Shall flounih, while he sleeps in dust."

You have also known him in a more public and of-
ficial character ; for his virtues and ability had ensured
to him the confidence of his country, which called him
to the exercise of judicial function.*

In this responsible station, did he ever disappoint
your confidence ?— -did he ever disregard your rights ?
Were his hands ever polluted with the corrupting bribe
to betray the innocent ? Did the influence of wealth or
power ever deter him from pursuing the strict course
of justice, or cause him to deviate from the correct prin-
ciples of law and equity ? Did he not judge ^he cause of
the fatherless and the widow, and deliver the poor from
him that would oppress him wrongfully ? — 1 again ap-
peal to you, who have known him in his judicial capa-
city, for a reply ; and in your heart-felt sorrow on this
occasion, I read — He hatb done all things well. Go then,
and weep for the loss your country has sustained, and
let your tears fall to the memory oi an honest man ! Go
and inscribe oo his tomb— if<fr^ lies ^^The noblest work oj
God,"

II. His usefulness as a member of the community.

Man b formed a rational and social being ^ and that
he may cultivate and eisercige more perfectly these

*fl[e was fomerly appoioled to the office of first Judge of the Coun-
ty €ourt io Grand Ule; vhicb statioo be filled with honour to himself,
apd usefuloesi to the country ; but from too modest an opinion of his
own ability, he resigned the sltuatloo, ta the general r^;ret of all who
had fcipwnfaim in ttuit capacity.

qualities, Providence has wisely placed him in such re-
lative circumstances, and surrounded him with relative
duties, that however prosperity may attend him, he
may still feel that dependence on others for his enjoy.
ments, which will strengthen the social affections be-
tween man and man. There is, however, in many, a
contemptible meanness of spirit, which induces them to
withdraw from the generous confidence and friendly
participations of society, and to lock themselves up in
their own selfishness, unwilling to contribute any thing
towards the common fund of public improvement or
the happiness of their species.

Thus, they live in a sort of hermitage, secluded from
the interests and sympathies of all ; and when they die,
they leave no vacuity in their place ; they disappear —
and society closes over them, like waters over the
sinking stone ; no bonds of social union are dissolved,
for none were formed j their lo<is is neither mourned nor
felt, and oblivion soon expunges their memory from
the earth.

But such was not the character of our deceased friend ;
he felt the claims of society, and he fulfilled them ; his
heart and his hand were always open to encourage ev-
ery good design to promote the prosperity and happi-
ness of the community ; and distinct from his individ.
ual er^ertions, he threw into the scale the weight of his
own sanction and example.

As a patriot, he loved his country ; he inculcated
obedience to her laws by precept and example ; he res-
pected and supported her institutions, an4 venerated
the memory and virtues of those who had been her

benefactors; he respected the rights of individuals,
and scrupulously guarded against every encroachnment
upon them ; lie was a friend to virtue, morality, and
order, and openly discountenanced irregularity and vice.
His friendly disposition, his easy and accessible manners,
his modest and unassuming merit, gained the good will
of all who knew him, and never have I yet heard that
he had an enemy ; for all, without distinction, receive
his civilities and good offices.

When such a man dies, the grief of his kindred is
not solitary ; the country mourns ; society feels the
wound ; and in every heart, the mourner is sure to meet
with sympathy. Long will the recollection of his vir-
tues be fondly cherished, and many will be the tears of
affection that shall fall, and the sighs of regret that shall
hover around his dreamless bed ; for the memory of the
patriot, the philosopher, the philanthropist, will survive,
when the marble laurels shall perish, which surround
the tomb of the Caesars.

III. His Benevolence.

The appeals of poverty and distress were never made
to him in vjun. His humane and benevolent disposition
was manifested, not only in relieving the wants of the
needy with direct charity, but in the exercise of lenity
and forbearance, to a great extent, towards those in.
debted to him ; in this way, he avoided that oppression
of the poor so common in the commercial v-^rld. Even
his debtors loved him, and the blessing of the poor,
and of him that was ready to perish, came upon him.
His charity received additional value, by being free
from that ostentation which is so apt to corrupt the

motives oi" our best actions; they originated in an in-
nate wish to relieve a brother's woe. The angel of mer-
cy, alone, has preserved the record of his secret munifi-
cence; but it will be openly declared in that day, , when
the Judge shiU say to the merciful, "In as much as ye have
done it to the least of these, ye have done it unto me.*'

IV. His domestic virtues.

We have thus far considered the character of our
deceased brother, with respect to his ability and dispo-
sition to fulfil the public and social duties of life. But
though he was eminently qualified to secure the respect
and confidence of his fellow-creatures abroad, by a dis-
creet and faithful discharge of the various obligations
of society, his virtues shone with a peculiar lustre at
home. It was here that his affections centered ; he lov-
ed his family better than any other object, and his
home was dearer to him than any other place ; he nev-
er left it without regret — he never returned to it with-
out pleasure. In his domestic circle, he found a little
sanctuary from the cares of business and the vicissitudes
of life — a sacred asylum, where his private peace and
happiness were secured from intrusion. He was here
sure of enjoying, in the affectious of a virtuous family,
an elevated pleasure, with which the stranger inter-
meddleth not. As a husband, he was faithful, constant,
and affectionate ; as a parent, he was fond, without
weakness — strict, without severity — prudent, without
suspicion-^and provident without parsimony ; and
while the blessing of God upon his exertions enabled
him to provide well for the support and comfort of his
family, he did not neglect to instil into the minds of his

offspring those principles of rectitude, which would en>
sure their respectability and usefulness in the world.

In thus briefly exhibiting these few trait i in the char-
acter of our deceased brother, I am not couscious of
being actuated by other feelings, than those of impar-
tial and disinterested friendship, and a desire to rescue
from oblivion the memory of those virtues, which arc
now held up to your imitation. I say not that he was
faultless, for he was human like ourselves. Whatever
his errors were, we bury them in his grave ; and you,
who have had the sagacity to detect, are cautioned to
avoid them. In speaking of his more estimable quali-
ties, I am confident, that none who knew him will im-
pute to exaggeration what has been said ; for to him,
our praises and our censures are now alike indifferent -,
but to ourselves, an impartial contemplation of his char-
acter may produce important consequences. We come
now to notice,

V. His religion.

In entering upon this part of his character, I can only
allude to his sentiments during a few of the last days of
his life ; previous to that time, his religious principles
were unknown to me. If his views of that sacred subject
were always correct, his great modesty and reserve pre-
vented his publising them to the world by an open pro-
fession ; if they were erroneous, as he finally consider-
ed them to have been,* his prudence prevented others
from being misguided by them, as he seldom alluded
to the subject, but in general terms but always spoke of

*It hai beea stated by those to whom he had made koowo hi» seotl-
mf Qt3> that he formerly believed io the doctrioe of Uoivenal Salvatioo.

it with serious respect. But one thJng is certain, that
when life was visibly drawing to a close, and he beheld
eternity rapidly approaching, attended with all its train
of consequences, his religious principles and sentiments
underwent a total and very important change. This
he repeatedly declared, and every moment served only
to render it more obvious to all around him. With all
his other excellences of character, here, it seems, was
one grand deficiency. At this awful and trying junc-
ture, when every object assumes its real importance, he
found himself a stranger to the saving faith of the gos-
pel ; he had not felt its necessity — he knew not its pow-
er. But when he beheld the near approach of that
hour, which unassisted nature cannot contemplate with-
out dismay, he saw and felt himself to be a wretched,
helpless sinner, whose eternal destiny was suspended on
a Ufe, which had nearly reached its period. He then
regretted with the deepest sorrow, that he had devot-
ed his precious time and talents to those objects, which
could not now give him support, while the great object
and end of existence had not been secured j he had neg-
lected *^T/je one thing needful"

But his was a godly sorrcv, and too sincere to be of
long duration. The sceptre of mercy was extended to
him — he believed — and received from the Saviour,
"beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the
garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness." **Now,"
said he, while the tear of penitence filled his eye, "I feel
'*that the pursuits and possessions of this world are but
**vanity. In my awful situation, I want nothing but a

'*Saviour ; and in this my greatest time of need. He

■V

"iiatii hot forsaken me ; to me, He is now "all in all ;'*
"for he hath taken away the burden of sin which I could
"not bear, and has given me hope and confidence of a
"blessed immortality. O where could I go, what could
'*l do, and how cobld I endure this dreadful moment,
"without a Saviour ? I am astonished, that I have nev-
"er viewed religion, and eternity, in their true colours
"before ; and I am surprized, that I could so long re-
^'main stupid, and careless, about a subject of such mag-
**nitude and importance *, and yet I see thousands of my
"fellow-creatures who are still pursuing the same
*'thoughtless course. O that their eyes may be opened
<'to see things as I do, before it shall be too late ! Be-
"fore I received the assurance of pardon, I was poor,
"and blind, and wretched ; but now I am rich — rich in-
"deed, for the Saviour hath promised me an inherit-
"ance in his own kingdom ; now I am happy, for He
"who is the source of happiness is my best friend. O
'*how does my spirit long for that blessed moment,
"when I shall behold my Saviour in his glory ! for then
"I shall embrace Him in my arms, and be forever his."

These were some of his own words, about a week
before he received his final summons. He talked much,
whenever his strength would enable him, with the ut-
most clearness of intellect, and almost exclusively on
this subject, and in this strain. To you, my dear hear-
ers, who know the power of divine grace, and its ope-
ration on the heart, this specimen of his feelings will be
suJSSicient to satisfy you, with respect to the favotifable
state and preparation of his soul to meet his Judge.

Such has been the testimony of a dying man. Had

he been an entire stranger, it should still have made us
pause, and reflect, and enquire, if these things are real-
ly so ; but he was our friend, our neighbour, our fa-
miliar acquaintance. Had he been a person of only
common or ordinary standing in society, still we ought
to lay to our heart the solemn asseverations of his dying
moments, as the most important of his life ; but this
witness is from one, whose opinions on every other
subject we have always respected ; and shall we disre-
gard them on this ? — from one, who never attempted
to deceive, and who could lot do it at this awful
hour.

Neither let any one suppose, that he was deceived, by
the influence of fear or a disordered imagination ; his
mind was clear, his reasoning powers unimpaired; and
he assured me, that he had examined his heart with
care and scrutiny ; the result of which was the follow-
ing assertion, "I think 1 am not deceived — I know I am
"not deceived j for the confidence which I have in my
"Saviour is too firm, and the joy, which the conscious-
"ness of hb favour bestows, is too great to bo the effect
"of deception."*

At what conclusion then, let me ask, do all these cir-
cumstances bring us ? — Simply to this > that every soul

hath sinned, and must be changed, renewed, converted

born again, before it can see the face of God in peace.

We must address our fervent prayer to Christ, like the

penitent thief on the cross— or like our penitent broth-

*He expressed his wish to be admitted before he died a member df
the Episcopal Church; and be received, with strong emotious of graU
tude, the sacred symbols of the JBody and Blood of Christ,

■^

cr on his dying bed, and Christ will not withhold from
us the promise of paradise.

These united facts constrain us to believe, that the
influence of genuine religion is sufficient, to elevate the
soul superior to the distresses of the body, and to en-
sure it a complete triumph over the anguish, and fears,
and separations of life's solemn close.

Does any one question these important truths ? I be-
seech you, by the value of your souls, and by the con-
solations of a christian's death, that you examine again,
and agaih, the evidence of scripture, and the facts
which have occurred in the case of our departed broth-
er, bearing in mind, that thousands of cases parallel
with this, have occured to confirm its truth.

Who is there in this mourning assembly, whose heart
is not touched with the affecting spectacle before our
eyes, and who does not involuntarily utter the prayer
of the Prophet, "Let my last end, and my death be like
his ?" Where is the man, who will calmly and dispas-
sionately assert, that he is willing to forego these rich
and cheering consolations in the hour of death ? Is
there any one present, however thoughtless and disso-
lute, who would not wish upon his dying bed, yea,
who would not exchange all that this world can be-
stow, for the joy of being seated oy the side of our de-
parted friend in the kingdom of God, at the right hand
of Jesus Christ ? Go then, and examine, as he did,
this all-important subject, feeling that your eternal des-
tiny is pending on the result of your decision. Go,
and repent, and believe, as he did, that like him you

may receive the assurance of meeting the Saviour in
the paradise of God.

I would now offer to the mourners the consolations
of the gospel.

You, my dear Madam, bewail the diijsolution of the
tcnderest and strongest tio which bound you to cxis«
tencc. You have a sacred claim upon, and be assured
you possess, our warmest sympathy. Great indeed is
your grief — but greater still are the consolations which
arc provided for you. You have lost, it is true, the
society of your dearest earthly friend — you have lost
the father, the natural protector of your children. But
reflect, how trifling is your loss, when compared with
his infinite gain. His earthly cares and troubles are now
ended — his dangers are over — his conflicts are past — his
everlasting peace is secured — an eternity of happiness
now awaits him. Be not disconsolate, then ; Jesus
Christ hath promised, that your husband shall rise
again at the general resurrection of the just ; and who
hath power to ensure that blessed event, but that Sav-
iour, who was his best friend ? You may now contem-
plate him as sealed in the bosom of Abraham, in the
paradise of rest ; where, if you follow his steps, he will
welcome you, hereafter, to those joys that will never,
never end. For your farther comfort, remember, that
God hath pledged himself to be the Judge of the wid>
ow, and the father of the fatherless. Then put your
sole trust in Him, and he will never leave nor forsake
you.

And you, my dear children, who are deprived of your
beloved parent, be comforted with this reflection, that

!)■

ho is not Lat, but taken away from the evil to come j
tliough liis body be dead, his soul will live forever ;
though his mortal part be consigned to the grave for a
season, we have just reason to believe, that his spirit is
in paradise with that Saviour whom he so ardently lov.
ed. Let the solemn admonitions of his last hours sink
deep into your hearts, to remcmbery and serve your Crea-
tor in your youth. Treasure up his dying counsel in your
memory ; it is the richest legacy your expiring parent
could bequeath you. In pursuing the course he then
recommended, by precept and his own example, you
will be sure to meet him again in that world of peace
and joy, where the pangs of separation are not known.
May He, whose tender mercies are over all his works,
whose watchful care notices even the sparrow, and
numbers the hairs of your head, give you grace to imi-
tate the virtues of your Father in your lives, that in your
death, you may find the consolation which support id
him. To Gods gracious mercy and protection I now
commend you, which is able to sanctify and convert
even this heavy affliction to your everlasting joy, and to
render every future event subservient to your ultimate
good,