LIBRARY 
 
 OF THK 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 Mrs. SARAH P. WALS WORTH. 
 
 Recewed October, 1894. 
 Accessions No . S^^i ft( - Clan s No. 
 
MEMORIALS 
 
 THE LIFE AND TRIALS 
 
 A YOUTHFUL CHKISTIAN 
 
 IN PURSUIT OF HEALTH, AS DEVELOPED IN THE BIOGRAPHY 
 OF NATHANIEL CHESTER, M.D. 
 
 BY REV. HENRY T. CHEEVER, 
 
 ATTTHOB OF " THK WHALE AND HIS CAPTORS," "ISLAND WORLD OF THE PACIFIC, 
 "LIFE IN THE SANDWICH LSLANDS," ETC. 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION, 
 
 BY REV. GEORGE B. CHEEVER, D.D. 
 
 NEW YOEK : 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER, 145 NASSAU STREET. 
 1851. 
 
__ 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1851, by 
 
 CIIAKLES SCEIBNER, 
 
 In the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 
 District of New York. 
 
 C. W. BENEDICT, 
 
 STEREOTYPES AND PRINTER, 
 201 William Street. 
 
TO 
 
 (to UftaJi iraii limnttrA 3$ntliBr, 
 
 THESE MEMORIALS 
 
 JDebkateir. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 INTRODUCTION BY REV. DR. CHEEVER, . . vii 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY SKETCHES OF EARLY HISTORY, SUFFER 
 INGS, AND TRAITS OF CHARACTER, . ,. . .9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 YOUTHFUL DIARY, RELIGIOUS LIFE AND CONSECRATION, 
 
 BEING AN EXEMPLIFICATION OF GRACE IN THE BUD, . 33 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 LETTERS AND MEMORIALS OF YOUTH, AND EARLY MAN 
 HOOD, ........ 52 
 
 CHAPTER, IV. 
 
 WAY-MARKS OF INTELLECTUAL AND MORAL PROGRESS, 83 
 
11 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 LIFE AND OBSERVATIONS AT GIBRALTAR, MALAGA, AND 
 
 MARSEILLES, . . . . . . . .111 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LIFE AND EXPERIENCE ON THE OCEAN AND AT NEW 
 
 ORLEANS, . . . , . . . - ,138 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FORMATION OF CHARACTER, THOUGH SUFFERING AT 
 
 HOME AND ABROAD, . . . . . .162 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF SOCIETY, MANNERS, AND MORALS IN 
 
 SPAIN, . ^ " ^. . . ... . .-, , .182 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE INTRIGUE THE ASSASSINATION, AND THE PUNISH 
 MENT 197 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE CHURCH THE MARKET THE CONSTITUTION THE 
 
 FIESTAS AT MALAGA, AS VIEWED BY A PROTESTANT, .212 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE EXPERIMENT AND EXPERIENCE OF A VOYAGE TO 
 SOUTH AMERICA, WITH NOTES UPON MONTEVIDEO AND 
 BUENOS AYRES, . 226 
 
CONTENTS. HI 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE CAUSE, HISTORY AND CURE OF DESPONDENCY SUB 
 SEQUENT RETURN TO AMERICA AND ENTRANCE UPON 
 THE STUDY OF MEDICINE, ..... 253 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 TRIALS IN OBTAINING HIS PROFESSION HOPES CROWNED 
 
 WITH A MEDICAL DEGREE VOYAGE TO CUBA, WITH 
 
 NOTES OF LIFE AT HAVANA, ..... 278 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ARRIVAL AND SETTLEMENT AT TRINIDAD EXAMINED ANE 
 
 APPROVED BY THE ROYAL UNIVERSITY INVESTITURE 
 
 WITH THE RIGHT OF PRACTICE, .... 303 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 PROSPECTS AS A PHYSICIAN HOPES RAISED, FRUSTRATED, 
 
 AND AT LENGTH TERMINATED BY DEATH, ON HIS 
 RETURN VOYAGE TO AMERICA, . . * .331 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 REVIEW AND CONCLUSION, . 350 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THIS book would not have been added to the multi 
 tude of similar memorials of friends and relatives, 
 Lad it not been for the judgment, repeatedly ex 
 pressed, of persons well acquainted with the subject 
 of these sketches, that some notice of his life and 
 character in a volume, would certainly do good. As 
 an account of the trials and conflicts of a youthful 
 Christian, nearly the whole of whose life was a pro 
 tracted struggle after health, and nearly all his attain 
 ments the result of repeated disappointments, there is 
 something in it of novelty and originality something, 
 at least, out of the ordinary channel of biographies. 
 Of the current and changes of the mortal existence 
 here recorded, there are no visible results, nor any 
 consciousness in men s minds connected with the 
 name ; and, in general, a book of memorials is of 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 those whose successful or remarkable doings, or whose 
 important position, at least, in a larger or a smaller 
 circle, have given them some measure of reputation 
 and of influence. 
 
 But in this book there is nothing either of fame or 
 position connected with its subject, to give it popu 
 larity ; and its interest must be owing to the pleasure 
 men may take in pursuing the development of a re 
 pressed and noble nature, through a life of suffering. 
 There are important Christian lessons contained in it, 
 and growing out of it ; and we would fain hope that 
 this simple record of illness and of disappointed ex 
 pectation, conducting only to the grave, yet there, 
 and all the way along, pointing to heaven, may meet 
 a want, if not a wish, in some minds, especially 
 youthful minds, and be instrumental in quickening 
 some hearts, perhaps distressed and desponding 
 hearts, in the grand but often trying pilgrimage to 
 the Saints Kest. 
 
 YOEK, Sept. 1st, 1851. 
 
INTRODUCTI OJST 
 
 ALMOST the earliest recollection of my beloved brother pre 
 sents him as a beautiful child, with one hand in mine, and we 
 together on the way to school, ft was with a mixture of 
 fraternal pride and love that I watched over him, and both 
 of us seemed for a time to be moving in the bright world 
 around us as in a dream. This play-mate care of childhood grew 
 into a painful anxiety when ill health had become the element of 
 his existence ; but still, the fervency and strength of our affection 
 were increased by it. I remember for the first time having the 
 sole care of him away from home, when we were both very 
 young, during a sojourn of some weeks for his health at an 
 unvisited mineral spring in the wilderness, then lying in the same 
 primeval state as when it was resorted to only by bears and 
 savages. The images of that isolation from society were ab 
 sorbed, on the part of both of us, in one feeling that of intense 
 and overwhelming home-sickness. There was only one habitation 
 in a field of stumps and cornstalks, amidst the desolation of a 
 half-burned clearing in the heart of the forest, and the time was 
 heavy and long with us; but his patience, cheerfulness, and 
 power of enjoyment amidst suffering, began even then to be 
 remarkable. 
 
Vlll INTKODUCTION. 
 
 An interval of youthful health was granted after this, before 
 that dreadful cold was taken which issued in the fixed, uncon 
 querable disease, that, years afterwards, terminated his existence ; 
 and during that period his life was bright, hopeful, and happy, and 
 the development of his being, both physical and mental, as per 
 fect as ever perhaps takes place under like circumstances. His 
 face was radiant vyith loveliness, both of feature and expression 
 a sparkling animation mingled with its sweetness, the result of 
 that elasticity and joyousness of spirit, which afterwards won 
 derfully sustained his activity beneath such a weight of op 
 pressive chronic malady. Its characteristic bright cheerfulness, 
 was, indeed, at length shaded with pain : habitual sickness and 
 suffering will make their marks upon the countenance, not merely 
 in wasting and paleness; and even the prevailing expression of 
 resignation is a sad and touching one. Yet always there remained 
 on the face and on the soul the frankness and disinterestedness 
 of character, the pleasant, glad-hearted sympathy, the earnestness 
 and simplicity of purpose, the warmth of affectionate feeling. 
 
 A single look how long it will continue in the mind ! If we 
 doubted whether all things will come up in review, our own ex 
 periences would confound us. I remember, when we were both 
 very young, I was in our yard at home, during one of my vaca 
 tions, mending an old hen-house, for the amusement of my dear 
 invalid young brother. He stood by, watching with his animated 
 countenance my progress with the hammer and the nails. I got 
 into some little difficulty, or it took me much longer to do the 
 work than I had thought for, or else I may have got an ugly 
 scratch, that put me for the moment out of temper; but I remem 
 ber exclaiming to my dear little brother, who loved me, and looked 
 up to me with great veneration, and for whom I would have done 
 anything in the world to please him I remember exclaiming, 
 though with an under-consciousness myself, at the very same 
 moment, of a foolish affectation or hypocrisy in what I was say- 
 
INTRODUCTION. IX 
 
 ing, and of the vvrongfulness of rny impatience, u Well, I m thank 
 ful there ll be no mending of hen-houses in heaven ; we shall 
 have a very different employment there/ The dear boy s coun 
 tenance fell in a moment. It mortified and perplexed him. I 
 remember the look he gave to this hour. He did not say a single 
 word, but it was evident that his feelings were hurt. He felt 
 grieved that 1 should be impatient in a slight task, which he had 
 thought was a pleasure to me a labor of love ; he felt hurt and 
 sorry to have been himself the occasion of trouble; and there 
 was in his face an expression that told me, as plainly as words 
 could have said it, that he saw anything but the spirit of heaven 
 anything but a true desire after heaven in my manner, and in what 
 I was uttering. 
 
 I recollect, too, that the moment I had dropped that speech, and 
 even while I was speaking it. I felt its silliness and its wrongful- 
 ness felt that it was not sincere, but inconsistent with anything 
 like the true gentleness and patience of piety, and that it conveyed 
 an accusation, as if there was something beneath the d gnity of 
 religion in being at work upon that old hen-house ! There the 
 revelation stops. I remember nothing more of that day, nor of 
 that year nay, I cannot tell what year of his life or of mine it 
 was, nor precisely how old either of us were, nor any other cir 
 cumstances or associations. But that look of hi?, I see his dear 
 face now, that look has held its place in my soul ever since 
 its REPROVING place ; and it has kept that one scene as fresh in 
 my memory as if it were but yesterday ; and every time I think of 
 it, it still brings the pang of regret that shot through me at first, 
 that I should have clouded his young heart for a moment, even in 
 the very midst of the pleasure I was giving him; that I should 
 have deprived him, as it were, of that very pleasure, by making 
 him feel ashamed and downcast, by such a foolish, Pharisaical 
 speech, which seemed to intimate that there was something in the 
 care of his hen-house quite beneath the grandeur of immortality 
 
X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and the thought of heaven. T say to myself, with perfect disgust 
 at the spirit of .that speech, You miserable hypocrite ! 
 
 It is very rare to meet with a character of such superior love 
 liness, hoth by nature and grace. Men seldom have opportunity 
 to observe the combination of such vivacity and vividness of mind 
 and feeling, with such perfect unchangeable sweetness of dispo 
 sition. Frank and open-hearted as the day, there was neither 
 concealment of himself, nor suspicion in regard to others. His 
 feelings, thoughts, and manners were always those of kindness 
 towards others never of vigilance against them, nor of unsocial 
 reserve. Indeed, the extreme sociableness of his nature might 
 have seemed, sometimes, the marking, reigning feature in his 
 character. He yearned for social communication and sympathy, 
 and pined when deprived of it, as a flower shut out from the light. 
 If there was any good point in a bad man s character, he would 
 find that out, and enter into sympathy by means of it. Hence, he 
 never made enemies it would seem impossible- and not only so, 
 but he attracted all men, without any effort, into a magnetic kindly 
 correspondence of pity or of interest. 
 
 He was never anxious about his own rights or conveniences, 
 nor ever fearful in regard to the opinion of others. Hence there 
 was a native, unassumed freedom and independence, along with 
 undissembled affability and kindness, rarely manifested in so 
 happy a degree. The habit of being cared for, and ministered to, 
 uninterruptedly, as an invalid, by loving relatives and sympathiz 
 ing friends, sometimes turns into an unconscious selfishness, if 
 not querulousness of character, even where there was no such 
 disposition originally. There was never the slightest shade of 
 such an effect upon him. His character, in its frankness, gene 
 rosity, and disinterestedness, continued to the end, like the purity, 
 elasticity, and freshness of an October morning atmosphere. 
 
 As to intellectual qualities, his mind was finely balanced, with 
 much intuitive quickness of perception, and a good judgment 
 
INTJBOD UCTIOK . XI 
 
 and power of application and analysis. He had a fine taste 
 in literature, and a good capacity for the acquisition of lan 
 guages. The severe and long-continued pressure of disease pre 
 vented any uninterrupted or intense application to study ; never 
 theless, his mind was not undisciplined, and was always full of 
 activity. The observing faculty had in him a great native 
 strength and quickness, so that details never escaped him, at the 
 same time that there was a habit of precision and accuracy, and 
 an interest in statistics, perhaps unusual, though sometimes it is 
 seen apparently unconnected with any generalizing principle or 
 end. He had a fine imagination, and a quick sensibility to the 
 beauties of natural scenery, though quicker still to the varieties 
 of human life and manners. Classic and romantic story and asso 
 ciation took a powerful hold upon him, as was manifested in a 
 very interesting manner in the enthusiasm with which he pursued 
 and enjoyed his visit to the palaces of the Alhambra. 
 
 He had a strong and passionate relish for genuine wit and 
 humoiy both in conversation and in literature. Hence it was that 
 he read Don Quixote in the original with such eager delight, 
 marking every development and delineation of character with the 
 most exquisite appreciation. I never met with an instance of 
 such deep, unaffected enjoyment in the writings of Cervantes. 
 Perhaps it was peculiarly intense, because first learned and culti 
 vated in the beautiful language and romantic country of Spain, 
 where the old literature still mirrors the modern manners, and the 
 usages of life still prove the truth of the socially descriptive 
 literature. One may possibly never meet in Spain, nor indeed 
 anywhere else, with anything like the characters either of Sancho 
 Panza or Don Quixote, and yet how natural, and how irresistibly 
 ludicrous and attractive! The power of the delineation cannot 
 be fully understood and relished anywhere but in Spain ; but no 
 classic in the world, not even Shakspeare, may be more intensely 
 appreciated and loved than Cervantes in his native land and 
 
dialect. For a considerable time, Don Quixote seemed to consti 
 tute the whole library of our brother; and he delighted in observ 
 ing the proverbs of the country for illustration, and was never 
 more happy than when he could hear or find one that had dropped 
 from the lips of Sancho Panza. 
 
 He appreciated, with the same keen zest, every humorous occur 
 rence and development in real life. A character, with whatever 
 spice of humor, was instantly attractive to him, and he enjoyed a 
 laugh, even in the very paroxysms of his sufferings, more than 
 most people do in health. Yet there was great chasteness and 
 delicacy in this passion for humor, and a coarse or indecorous jest 
 he could not endure. And he could reprove and rebuke, on occa 
 sions of profaneness, or other immoralities, with a mingled firm 
 ness and pleasantness, young as he was, which was as impressive 
 as it was unusual. 
 
 I was with him as his sole companion in many changes and 
 dangers, and for years he was thrown, at sea and abroad, upon the 
 care of us, his elder brothers, under such circumstances as made 
 our attachment to him much stronger than the ordinary fraternal 
 bond. We had watched over him in perils at home and in foreign 
 countries, by sea and by land, through various trials and adven 
 tures; nor would he have been left at any time to journey alone, 
 had a different arrangement been possible. For a season we 
 were- all abroad, but in different quarters of the globe all 
 beneath the discipline of Divine Providence, in search of health, 
 our dear Mother and Sister the only ones left at home in 
 the family circle; and it way well be supposed that the bitterest 
 part of the sorrow of having him die away from home, after so 
 many and such long wanderings with him, was, that none of us 
 could be permitted to be by his side to walk with him Oown to 
 the borders of the River of Death to mingle our prayers with 
 his to save him, if possible, from the bitterness of that inde 
 scribable depression of eoul, which, at one time, he experienced 
 
INTRODUCTION. Xlll 
 
 
 
 in such utter loneliness, and to receive the utterance of his last 
 aspirations of faith and Jove at the departure of his spirit. This 
 is a trial, the severity of which can hardly be conceived by those 
 who have never passed through it. But as the death of his 
 saints is precious in the sight of the Lord, so are all its circum 
 stances; and they are all ordered and arranged by Him in inex 
 pressible love. It were treason to the whole plan of redemption, 
 and to the special Providence of God, to think otherwise. 
 
 Therefore his children, in this happy confidence, should be at 
 peace; quiet and serene in their submission, even though pierced 
 to the heart. For whether they die at home or abroad in the 
 midst of strangers or among friends and kindred at an inn, like 
 Leighton (even as he had wished to die), or in the house of 
 nativity and childhood on the sea or on the land, lingeringly and 
 with much warning, or suddenly at a moment s call all these 
 varieties of the form are arranged for the highest blessedness and 
 glory of the Redeemer s triumph over the last enemy to be 
 destroyed, DEATH. All these changes in the manner of the last 
 change, are at His blessed will, who himself goes w T ith his chil 
 dren through the gloom, till it opens before the throne of God in 
 light eternal. 
 
 There are sometimes seasons in life more dangerous and dis 
 tressing by far than the Valley of the Shadow of Death than the 
 presence of the King of Terrors. Such seasons our beloved bro 
 ther had to pass through alone. Yet, not alone; for still, as ever, 
 the Lord, his Redeemer, was with him ; and for him, as for Peter 
 (and, we believe, for all tempted and fainting souls, whose trust is 
 in Christ), that gracious Redeemer had prayed that his faith 
 should fail not. So, and for that reason only, in every such 
 painful conflict he was victorious. One of the dreariest experi 
 ences of his life that in Brazil, and on the voyage from South 
 America to Spain arose mainly from the fact of his utter lone 
 liness in conjunction with the pressure of his disease. The Tempter 
 
XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of the soul (where, in this fallen world, is he not?) took advan 
 tage of the hour, and it was the power of darkness. It yields a 
 lesson well marked in this biography, as to the importance of the 
 presence of a friend, and the hazard to health, happiness, and 
 even piety, of permitting an invalid to launch upon a voyage 
 alone. 
 
 I have touched upon some of the features of a very lovely 
 character. The Christian change was not so much superinduced 
 upon such a character, as mingled with it, and pervading it, at a 
 very early period, as its renewing and transfiguring element. He 
 was baptized in infancy, and a prayer-hearing and covenant-keep 
 ing God did not withhold that grace, which alone could keep the 
 baptismal consecration from inflicting the guilt of a violated re 
 sponsibility, instead of communicating the favor of a Divine 
 blessing. The earliest dispensation of disease, seemed to be foi 
 him the hand of the Angel of the Covenant, leading him to God. 
 And it might have seemed as if God, in making such an one a 
 Christian, would have had something of extensive usefulness in 
 view for him here some sphere of energy and influence for him 
 to fill, that asked for just such qualities and developments of 
 mind and heart. It might have been supposed that those faculties 
 were not to be employed merely or mainlj 7 in wrestling for physi 
 cal health, as for the fit mould in which to cast and use them, or 
 in the conflict with disease. 
 
 But so it is. The whole energy and power of some high 
 natures are employed all their life long in merely coat 
 ing the grains of sand within the pearl ; and little or no use, 
 after all, seems to be made of it. So that the oft-repeated asser 
 tion of Shakspeare, that spirits are never finely touched but 
 to fine issues, has no absolute truth, unless taken in a higher 
 sense than that in which the poet can be supposed to have written 
 it. Pointed to the skies, it is absolutely and always true j and 
 there only God has a setting for all his jewels, and one that is 
 
INTRODUCTION. XV 
 
 worthy of them all. The great thing in this life, and the great 
 point of God s discipline, is to render them worthy of it. And 
 how mighty, how transcendent, how inconceivable the honor of a 
 place in the Redemecr s crown the glory of being appointed and 
 prepared to reflect His glory ! Whatever be the exact meaning 
 yet to be revealed, of the imagery employed in Scripture on this 
 subject, it can be regarded in no possible sense but as covering up 
 a glory, and, therefore, an extent of usefulness cheaply purchased 
 by all the influences, gifts, qualities, richnesses of endowment, 
 costliness of discipline, and opportunity and compulsion of in 
 tense effort, that could ever be lavished upon a soul in the largest 
 period of a mortal existence. 
 
 In order that the notices in these remarks, and those scat 
 tered in these memoirs, may be seen to spring not from the par 
 tiality of fraternal affection merely, but to be coincident with the 
 spontaneous judgment of impartial friends, I shall here insert one 
 or two affecting and delightful records of feeling and of remem 
 brance drawn forth by the news of his death. They were ad 
 dressed mostly to his only Sister by those who knew him well 
 from boyhood. The first is from a distant, but dear friend, a rela 
 tive of the beloved pastor of our brother : 
 
 "The first notice in the New York Observer of your dear 
 brother s death, gave me a terrible shock. I had felt such an assur 
 ance that in the delicious climate of Cuba he would get his health 
 established, particularly after reading some of his letters to you 
 when at Hallowell in September. I sat down and wept as if he had 
 been my own brother, when I saw the account of his death, and 
 was almost unwilling to credit it. 1 felt it keenly ; and when I 
 thought of the stricken mother and sister how sudden and over 
 whelming would be the tidings my heart was filled with sorrow. 
 All I could do was to ask the Lord to comfort your hearts, and 
 richly impart to you his sustaining, sanctifying grace. My 
 
XVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 pleasantest associations some of my happiest hours, have been 
 connected with dear Nathaniel and yourself at your mother s fireside, 
 when, in the ardor of our first love, we delighted in communing 
 together on things concerning the kingdom ; and like the disciples 
 on their way to Emmaus, we would feel that the Saviour was 
 with us of a truth. How vividly is Nathaniel s beautiful counte 
 nance pictured on my mind, as he used to sit in those days a 
 meek sufferer in a favorite corner of the fire-place, and talk of 
 Christ, and lay out his various plans for doing good ! This ardent 
 love for his Saviour, and for souls, he ever manifested. He 
 seemed so heavenly. I remember how I loved to look upon him, 
 and how my affections were drawn out towards him because he 
 was so devoted. How varied and numerous have been his trials 
 for so short a pilgrimage. In perils by sea and by land, in weari 
 ness, in painfulness and watching, yet the same firm, unshaken 
 confidence in God, as when in his brightest days. H has, indeed, 
 from his early youth, been an object of the tenderest and most 
 anxious solicitude to your dear mother and yourself. Not his 
 sufferings alone (though they have been very great), but the uni 
 form cheerfulness, patience, and sweet resignation with which he 
 ever bore them, have drawn your affections more closely around 
 him than could have been possible, perhaps, in other circum 
 stances. 
 
 Here are the thoughts and feelings of another dear friend in his 
 native place : 
 
 " Oh, I always did love him from his early childhood, but 
 more particularly the last part of his interesting life. Full 
 well do I remember his friendly calls at our house when I was 
 your near neighbor ; and frequently, after an ill turn from his 
 fatal complaint, would he come in, and with his cheerful and 
 animated manner, call forth my sympathies in behalf of others. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XV11 
 
 He felt deeply for the souls of those out of the ark of safety, and 
 for the disobedience of those particularly who did not remember 
 the Sabbath to keep it holy. We saw much of the profanation 
 of this gacred day when living near the water; and when he was 
 quite a child, he would talk to the men, and give them tracts, and 
 try to do them good. This I have not only heard from others, 
 but have seen it myself ; and ever since his new birth, his Christian 
 course has been onward, onward, and whatever his hands found to 
 do, it was done with his might, so marked was he for perseverance 
 and industry both spiritual and temporal. Few, I think, of 
 his years, had attained to that fullness in Christ, as did this beloved 
 son j but the Saviour was rapidly preparing him to fill the place 
 he had prepared for him; and now he sees him as he is, face to 
 face, without a glass between. There he is triumphing in redeem 
 ing love, singing the song of Moses and the Lamb. Happy 
 
 spirit, who would recall thee ?" 
 
 "*f 
 
 And yet another beloved friend wrote on the same occasion as 
 follows : 
 
 " The memory of your sainted brother is very precious to me, 
 connected, as it is, with the early part of my own religious life. 
 Thoughts of him, and his deep religious exercises, so remarkable 
 in one so young, are closely linked with that interesting period 
 of personal history a public profession of faith in Christ. Your 
 brother was one of the little band that at that time avouched the 
 Lord Jehovah to be their God, and most nobly did he redeem his 
 pledge. You will remember what frequent interviews I had with 
 him at that period, and how much I enjoyed his sweet society. 
 As I write, his image rises vividly before me. I seem to see him 
 seated in his arm chair by the fire, in the most sheltered part of 
 the room, which I learned to consider his corner, his pale, sweet 
 face illuminated by the light within to such a degree I almost for- 
 
XV111 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 got he was a sufferer. Indeed, such was his cheerful submission 
 and patient endurance, that in my robust health, and unconscious 
 ness of pain, I fear I failed to render him that sympathy he was 
 so largely entitled to. After-years of painful suffering have 
 much reminded me of him ; and I have earnestly desire 1 to 
 exhibit a like patience and Christian fortitude, that friends, while 
 with me, might not be made to feel I am sick ; which was wonder 
 fully true of him ! 
 
 " I well remember the deep interest he ever felt in the cause of 
 Christ, and the lively sense of Divine things he ever manifested. 
 One circumstance which made a deep impression on my mind. I 
 must mention. I do not remember the precise time, but I think it 
 was on the occasion of our annual Church-fast the first of Jan 
 uary. There was a short intermission at noon, but a number of 
 sisters living at some distance from the place of worship, remained 
 after all the brethren but Nathaniel had retired. Unexpectedly to 
 us all (for his feeble health, together with his extreme youth, 
 generally prevented his taking part in the meeting), Nathaniel 
 rose and proposed that the time should not be unimproved. He 
 led in prayer in a most fervent and elevating manner then offered 
 many experimental and appropriate observations, continuing the 
 exercises till the return of our pastor and other brethren. It was 
 a sweet season; and we all felt it was good to be there. I might 
 mention many interesting things, but you were much more inti 
 mately acquainted with him at that period, and it is needless for 
 me to recall what must be so deeply engraven upon your own 
 mind. He will ever live in the hearts of his friends, and, ere 
 long, we will join him in his present blessed abode, and unite 
 with him in that glorious ascription of praise, Unto him who 
 hath loved us, and washed us in his own blood, be praise and 
 glory for ever and ever. " 
 
 One more notice, in the foiiovring valued letter, to the bereaved 
 
INTRODUCTION. XIX 
 
 Mother and Sister, from their former pastor, Rev. Professor 
 Shepard, of Bangor Theological Seminary, must not be omitted. 
 It was written from Bangor on receiving the unexpected intelli 
 gence of our brother s death : 
 
 " I hardly know what to say to you in your sudden and deep 
 affliction. There are circumstances before which language and 
 argument seem to be confounded. I have often been struck with 
 the simplicity and nature of that passage of Scripture, So they 
 sat down with him upon the ground seven days and seven nights, 
 and none spake a word unto him ; for they saw that his grief was 
 great. A voice says to us, Be still, and know that I am God. 
 I know what the greatness of your affliction must be, for I know 
 how you loved that son and brother how much there was in 
 him to be loved how much worth and affection to lose, for few 
 had such a heart as he. The fact that he has been so long an in 
 valid and sufferer, requiring such intimate and tender attentions 
 and sympathy, has only bound him so much the closer. It is 
 hard to realize that we shall not see him again. To me the intel 
 ligence of his death is as sudden and unexpected as if he had died 
 from the most perfect health, not having heard of any increase of 
 his malady, supposing, even, that the genial clime might be effect 
 ing a cure ; if not this, that he could abide on the island, and be 
 comfortable and useful in his profession. Furthermore, he had 
 contended so long with the disease successfully, it seemed that he 
 would continue to do so, and though he might suffer, yet he would 
 live that by these sufferings he had won a sort of title to life ; 
 yet, in a moment we hear it is otherwise. God s thoughts are not 
 as ours. He is taken away, and we shall see him no more. 
 
 But the circumstances, I hear you say (indeed, I see not how 
 you can help saying in some of your thoughts upon the case), 
 1 that he should die with strangers, and find his grave in the sea. 
 How kind would have been the Providence, and how it would 
 
XX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 have taken off from the keenness of the pang, if he could have 
 reached home, and we could -have seen his face once more, and 
 could have administered to him in those last offices, and prayed 
 with him, and heard his expressions of sweet trust in the Saviour, 
 and heheld that eye as it looked upon heaven, and have followed 
 him to the grave, and known the place where the beloved form 
 sleepeth. I said, how kind the Providence ; and yet, that Provi 
 dence is really just as kind in the circumstances as they actually 
 are, as it would have been in the circumstances supposed. And 
 here is the consolation : It is no where else but in God. He is 
 love. He does not afflict his children willingly, but in love. All 
 the circumstances are ordered in love j the manner and the 
 measure come from that Father : if darkness is about him, he will 
 yet make it plain. How much light and comfort there is in look 
 ing up to that throne ! How much peace in staying the heart 
 upon that heavenly Friend. 
 
 What has God done ? He early laid the hand of disease upon 
 the dear departed one, and often was it heavy and hard to bear. 
 But soon he sent his Spirit and adopted him as his son, and gave 
 to him, and to all, a peculiarly clear evidence that it was so, and 
 gave him great joy often in the assurance of that hope. He was 
 with him in his solitude : a Friend that sticketh closer than a 
 brother where all other friends were absent. By the discipline 
 and the rich grace he administered, He ripened him fast for 
 heaven, and then He took him to himself ; at the right time, in the 
 best way without any mistake at all He took him home to glory. 
 In a moment He relieved him cured him made him whole; a little 
 too soon, as it seems to us, but the time that seemed best to Him. 
 He is now in heaven, and heaven is a wonderful place. We do 
 not know it, he does ! That heart, oh ho\v it loves now ! That 
 voice, how sweet its music ! That spirit, how radiant its glory ! 
 No sin, no suffering, no death there. This is what God has done 
 the process the completion. How much mercy in the cup ! 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 How much to praise him for even ! Contrast it with this case. I 
 was in the family a short time since, and saw the parents. It was 
 their eldest son. He was brought up in an atmosphere of re 
 ligion and prayer, but he did not become pious ; he fell in college 
 by vicious indulgence j he went to sea before the mast, and the 
 second night out he slipped from the mast and perished. There 
 was no hope in his case. What a cup was that, and is it still ^ 
 The sting of death is sin. My only hope and consolation is in 
 the absolute sovereignty of God, said the father. Could those 
 parents only have hope that their son was prepared, and went to 
 heaven, they would feel that the great burden of their grief was 
 removed. 
 
 I feel that I have lost a warm and true friend. I have long 
 loved him as a brother. Very pleasant hast thou been unto me. 
 I give you both my full sympathy. My prayer is, that God will 
 be- your helper, and impart His unutterable consolations, which 
 shall prevail over the unutterable sorrow. 
 
 May the blessing of God accompany these Memorials. If they 
 communicate an impulse heaven- ward to a single way-worn pil 
 grim, they will not have been published in vain. One deep legson 
 from every such tracery of affliction, shines out clearly : it is the 
 infinite importance, for support in sickness, of HABITS of devotion 
 in the season of health. Let the best energies of the soul be em 
 ployed in forming them. IN THE MORNING sow thy seed in the 
 bright, cool, joyous morning ; in the evening thou shalt reap the 
 harvest. It is evening it is dark night, when sickness comes ; and 
 then, if we have not been to the Great Physician, who, or what, 
 shall comfort us ? How miserable would have been the condition 
 of the subject of these notices, with all his native elasticity of 
 spirit, if he had not early trusted in Christ if he had not been 
 cheered by the presence of a gracious God and Saviour bearing 
 him onward, and consoling him through life if, when embarking 
 
XX11 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 on the deep for the last time, in extreme weakness and heart-sick 
 ness, he had not felt that Christ was with him, and that he had 
 just as firm a hold upon Christ s precious promises and dying love 
 on the sea as on the land if he had not been ablu to feel that all 
 was well, and when the last hopes of home and Mother and Sister 
 were taken from him, that Jesus himself, in the tenderest love, 
 was doing it all if he had not been able to say, Into thy hands 
 I commit my spirit. Thou hast redeemed me, Lord God of 
 truth ! Forever blessed be the Lord for this infinite mercy ! 
 
 I am led to one more reflection by a re-perusal of one of the 
 youthful letters of our beloved brother after a journey. It is as 
 to the preciousness of the habit of trusting in Christ daily amidst 
 trials, and of running to him for deliverance. Death will be easy 
 to those whose life has been a constant experience and observance 
 of the Saviour s loving care. The HABIT of faith is unspeakably 
 desirable, and not the mere impulse, and it grows strong by 
 watchful exercise in what some might call little things. " I have 
 not suffered so severely in mind," says the letter to which I refer, 
 - on accout of your absence, as I expected to do. Thus does the 
 Lord temper the wind to the shorn lamb, and fulfils the gracious 
 promise, As thy days so shall thy strength be; and surely 
 WE have reason, if any ever had it, to believe in, and rely upon, 
 that precious declaration. My mind sometimes adverts to the 
 dangers through which we have passed, and the narrow but mer 
 ciful deliverances we have experienced ; and I wonder and am 
 astonished that I am yet alive, much more in such pleasant circum 
 stances, and in the enjoyment of so many mercies and unspeak 
 able blessings. Oh that the Lord s great goodness to us on our 
 journey, and during our whole lives, might have its legitimate 
 effect upon us, and make us live more entirely as his servants and 
 disciples." 
 
 Now that the survey is taken from heaven, with all the dangers 
 and escapes visible, all the interpositions of a Saviour s daily 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 mercy, hitherto concealed, with what wonder and astonishment, 
 what joy and Jove past our mortal comprehension, does the enrap 
 tured Pilgrim find himself at home! There the inhabitant no 
 more sayeth, "I am sick." There the "glass darkly" is known 
 no more ; but face to face, in a full beholding and reflection of the 
 Saviour s glory, the Earnest of the Spirit is changed into the IN 
 HERITANCE OF THE SAINTS IN LIGHT. 
 
MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE OF NATHANIEL 
 CHEEVER, M,D, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AND TRAITS OF CHARACTER. 
 
 But though life s valley be a vale of tears, 
 A brighter scene beyond that vale appears, 
 Whose glory, with a light that never fades, 
 Shoots between scattered rocks and opening shades ; 
 And while it shows the land the soul desires, 
 The language of the land she seeks inspires. 
 
 COWPER. 
 
 IN arranging the papers, and preparing a memorial 
 of our cherished brother, we are actuated by a double 
 motive. First "We wish to bring up distinctly to our 
 own recollection, and to that of an honored circle of 
 warm, personal friends, the virtues and graces of 
 character, by reason of which we and they loved the 
 departed so deeply. Second We have thought that 
 
10 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 such a character and life as his, short as was its 
 earthly career, and limited, so to speak, as was its 
 first living edition, should be lived over again in 
 his published biography, for the use of the universal 
 church to which he belonged, and for the wide world 
 of struggling humanity, which characters like that 
 herein portrayed do at once illustrate and adorn. 
 
 It is through the published memorials of a good 
 man s deeds, words, and example, that " being dead 
 he yet speaketh." Our care will therefore be, as editor 
 and compiler, to let the endeared subject of these 
 memorials speak for himself. Links that may be 
 wanting in the chain of facts, binding together the 
 different passages of his life, we shall supply ; and the 
 testimony of congenial minds, familiar with the cha 
 racter herein exhibited, we shall not exclude. But 
 our aim will be, through the original letters and jour 
 nals of the deceased, to present rather an autobio 
 graphy than a history, and to make the character 
 daguerreotype itself on the mind of the reader, ra 
 ther than ourselves to execute a portrait of it. 
 
 After a few items of his birth and boyhood in the 
 present chapter, we shall have recourse to original 
 papers and relics, as the only material for future 
 sections, wherein it will be our endeavor to reflect 
 the grace of Christ, as mirrored in the experience of 
 one of his loveliest disciples, both in the blade, the 
 ear, and the full corn in the ear. 
 
 "Wordsworth, with true insight, justly remarks that 
 u the character of a deceased friend or beloved kins 
 man is not seen no, nor ought to be seen, otherwise 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEB, M.D. 11 
 
 than as a tree through .a tender haze, or a luminous 
 mist, that spiritualizes and beautifies it; that takes 
 away, indeed, but only to the end that the parts which 
 are not abstracted may appear more dignified and 
 lovely may impress and affect the more. Shall we 
 say, then, that this is not truth not a faithful image ; 
 and that, accordingly, the purposes of commemoration 
 cannot be answered ? It is truth, and of the highest 
 order ; for though, doubtless, things are not apparent 
 which did exist, yet the object being looked at through 
 this medium, parts and proportions are brought into 
 distinct view, which before had been imperfectly or 
 unconsciously seen. It is truth hallowed by love the 
 joint offspring of the worth of the dead and affections 
 of the living. The composition and quality of the 
 mind of a virtuous man, contemplated by the side of 
 the grave where his body is mouldering, ought to 
 appear and be felt as something midway between 
 what he was on earth, walking about with his living 
 frailties, and what he may be presumed to be as a 
 spirit in heaven." 
 
 The subject of this memoir was born at Hallowell, 
 Maine, on the 29th of March, 1816, being the sixth 
 child of Charlotte Barrell and Nathaniel Cheever. 
 He was one of a family of four sons and three daugh 
 ters, of whom only four arrived at adult years. His 
 grandmother, by the father s side, was sister of the 
 Hev. Dr. Aaron Bancroft, of Worcester, Massachu 
 setts a woman of a strong mind and true piety. His 
 paternal grandfather, Nathaniel Cheever, of Salem, 
 Massachusetts, died early, but was noted among his 
 
12 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 townsmen as a man that " feared God and eschewed 
 evil." 
 
 His maternal ancestors were of the Barrell and Say- 
 ward family, of York, Maine, the grandmother being 
 the only daughter of Jonathan Sayward, and eminent 
 for her virtues as a woman and a Christian ; and as the 
 mother of eleven children, nine of whom were success 
 fully reared to adult life, blessed with a numerous pos 
 terity. 
 
 His grandfather, Nathaniel Barrell, Esq., was the 
 eldest of twelve sons, and for several years before the 
 American revolution, was one of the councillors of 
 Governor Wentworth, of New Hampshire. After 
 embracing Christianity, he adopted the religious views 
 of Robert Sandiman, which he practically exemplified, 
 and held with inflexible tenacity to the close of life, at 
 the advanced age of ninety-nine. 
 
 The father of Nathaniel died at the early age of 
 forty, of pulmonary consumption, in the hopes of the 
 gospel, at Augusta, Georgia, where he had gone in 
 pursuit of health, his youngest son, the subject of this 
 memoir, being but three years of age. He had ac 
 quired an honorable competence for the support and 
 education of his family, in the industrious exercise of 
 his profession as printer, editor, publisher, and book 
 seller ; and he had won among his fellow citizens a 
 worthy repute for high integrity, energy, and public 
 spirit. 
 
 As an infant, Nathaniel is said to have been marked 
 by uncommon intelligence and sweetness of temper, 
 always waking from his cradle with a sunny smile. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVEB, M.D. 13 
 
 He was born just three months after his parents had 
 lost their eldest child, a noble boy of eleven, by 
 drowning, while skating upon the Kennebec. The 
 resemblance to him of the new-born was so striking 
 in every respect, as to have been noticed as a remark 
 able fact in physiology. He bore his name, his form, 
 his features and lineaments of countenance ; and in 
 the mental and moral structure of the two, the corres 
 pondence was deemed equally explicit and peculiar, 
 doubtless through the force of the maternal imagination, 
 prepossessed as it must have been with the image of 
 the eldest-born, so suddenly snatched from her sight. 
 
 His characteristics as a child were a very strong 
 affection for all about him, but especially for his 
 mother, extreme conscientiousness and regard for the 
 truth, and uncommon susceptibility to religious im 
 pressions. Such was his uniform out-gushing cheer 
 fulness, and so inexhaustible was his faculty of ex 
 tracting happiness from everything, that by guests in 
 the family he was named " SUNSHINE ;" and they used 
 to say it was enough to make a person happy to look 
 at him. When he was nine or ten years of age, 
 perfectly healthy, buoyant, and beautiful, those that 
 beheld him felt unwilling he should grow any older. 
 
 His relish was keen for all the sports and recrea 
 tions of childhood, and his amiable temper, joined with 
 his love for making others happy, made all his mates 
 his friends. One summer evening, after school, he 
 was tempted to indulge in sailing along shore, without 
 the consent of his mother, on a little flotilla, with his 
 elder brother, who was most to blame in the matter. 
 
1-i MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Being found out, they were called to account, and 
 questioned bow long they had practised this sport. 
 Nathaniel, in his answers, became involved in a seem 
 ing contradiction ; and it so wrought upon his sensitive, 
 conscientious mind, that for years after, fearful lest he 
 should not state the exact trath, he would not affirm 
 positively, either in narrating a thing or giving his 
 opinion. But the form of expression he adopted was, 
 " I believe I believe it is so ;" " I believe I believe I 
 did it ;" " I believe I believe that was the way ;" " / 
 believe I believe I said so or thought so." 
 
 His fondness for the Bible was early shown. On 
 the occasion of an annual thanksgiving, his eldest 
 brother had given a Bible to his only sister and to his 
 other brother ; but supposing another kind of book 
 would be more acceptable to Nathaniel from his ex 
 treme youth, he bought him a beautiful history of ani 
 mals, with fine colored engravings. "When he had 
 received it, and compared his present with the two 
 others, he said to his mother, " This is a beautiful book 
 George has got for me, but how much I wish he had 
 given me a Bible, as he has to Elizabeth and Henry." 
 Acting on this suggestion, a Bible like his brother s was 
 at once bought for him, and his name written on the 
 fly-leaf as a thanksgiving present. 
 
 This same Bible was his constant companion ever 
 after, in divers and distant parts of the world. It is 
 pencilled throughout by his own hand, and bears the 
 marks of diligent and careful perusal. Large portions 
 of it were committed by him to memory while travel 
 ling. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 15 
 
 His first vivid religions impressions under preach 
 ing, are believed to have been when eight years of 
 age, under the labors of Kev. Joshua Noble Danforth, 
 who was then spending a few weeks in conjunction 
 with the pastor at Hallo well, Rev. Dr. Gillet. Prayer- 
 meetings were then held at his mother s ; and he was 
 allowed, as a great privilege, to go out with her occa 
 sionally of an evening. The religious instruction, the 
 singing and prayers, greatly affected him, and he was 
 all animated with the spirit of revival. He now spent 
 much time in prayer by himself, and he would talk 
 and pray with his schoolmates one by one. 
 
 Returning once from meeting, he said to his mother, 
 u I believe I believe I m converted ; I ve thought of 
 what Mr. Danforth has said ; I think I never shall 
 do wrong any more ; I am sure there will be a re 
 vival ; it has begun in my heart ; shall I not be a 
 Christian ?" 
 
 Whether or not there was a change of heart effected 
 at this time, cannot be told. His own judgment after 
 ward was rather that no such saving change was then 
 wrought, but evident progress was making toward the 
 kingdom of heaven ; and the salutary effect of the 
 religious exercises of his mind at this time, was never 
 effiiced. He was then, and for several years after, a 
 member of the Sabbath school, until prevented from 
 attending by his sickness. 
 
 His boyhood, up to the time of his first winter s 
 confinement, in 1828-29, was a very happy one. 
 Home was happy. All his affections had their play 
 with mother, sister, brother. School-day time was 
 
16 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 happy. He loved his teachers and his mates, and was 
 loved by them. Existence, those few years, was one 
 long joy. 
 
 " blessed vision ! happy child ! 
 Thou art so exquisitely wild, 
 I think of thee with many fears 
 For what may be thy lot in future years. 
 Ah, too, industrious folly ! 
 Ah, vain and causeless melancholy ! 
 Nature will either end thee quite, 
 Or, lengthening out thy season of delight, 
 Preserve for thee, by individual right, 
 A young lamb s heart among the full-grown flocks. 
 What hast thou to do with sorrow, 
 Or the injuries of to-morrow ? 
 Thou art a dew-drop, which the morn brings forth, 
 Not framed to undergo unkindly shocks, 
 Or to be trailed along the soiling earth, 
 A gem that glitters while it lives, 
 And no forewarning gives ; 
 But, at the touch of wrong, without a strife, 
 Slips in a moment out of life." 
 
 God s thoughts are not as our thoughts, and Infinite 
 Wisdom had ordained an ordeal of suffering for one 
 that seemed born only for joy. The Captain of our Sal 
 vation was made perfect by sufferings ; and as a matter 
 of fact, almost all that have attained to eminent holiness 
 in this life, have gone up by the same road. In Cowper s 
 own sweet words, who well knew the truth of them, 
 
 The path of sorrow, and that path alone, 
 Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown. 
 
 In an autumn evening of 1828, while waiting in 
 
OF NATUA.NIEL GHEKVER, M.D. 17 
 
 the open air the arrival of a stage-coach with his 
 mother, he incurred a severe cold, in the train of which, 
 owing to some hitherto undeveloped peculiarity of con 
 stitution, there followed a confirmed asthma. The fol 
 lowing winter, being under medical treatment for his 
 cough, he was like an imprisoned bird. Unaccustomed 
 to confinement, and his buoyant spirits yet unbroken, 
 the discipline was irksome and hard to bear ; and 
 there were not then those religious consolations which 
 he afterward experienced so fully. 
 
 But neither at this time, nor ever after, was he a 
 fretting sufferer ; for the natural sweetness of his dis 
 position was always ascendant. Frequent religious 
 conversations with a clergyman in the family that 
 first winter of disease, were highly beneficial to him. 
 His feelings were very tender on the subject of re 
 ligion, and continued so with much anxiety and deep 
 conviction through the following summer, as will be 
 seen in the pages of his private journal. 
 
 On his return to Hallowell from a summer s resi 
 dence by the sea-side, in the fall of 1829, his religious 
 views and habits became settled, his hope in Christ 
 strong, and his interest in others salvation very deep 
 and engaging. A member of the family says of him 
 at that time, that Doddridge s Rise and Progress, with 
 his Bible and Hymn-book, were his daily companions ; 
 meditation, prayer, and praise, his solace ; and it was 
 affecting to see one so young thus engaged. Of 
 Watts hymns, " I m not ashamed to own my Lord." 
 " Firm as the earth thy gospel stands," " Not all the 
 blood of beasts," were particular favorites. There 
 
18 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 were many of Cowper s and Newton s equally precious 
 to him. " O, for a closer walk with God," " It is the 
 Lord en throned in light," "There is a fountain filled 
 with blood," " Jesus, lover of my soul," " Ye angels 
 who stand round the throne," " The voice of free 
 grace," " Kise my soul, and stretch thy wings," and 
 many others he delighted to read and sing. " Begone 
 unbelief, my Saviour is near," was first sung by us at 
 an extraordinary season of temptation he endured, to 
 which allusion is made in his journal. 
 
 In due time God delivered him from all disquieting 
 fears, doubts, and regrets ; and cheerful activity in his 
 Master s service, at every relaxation of disease, cha 
 racterized his course for many years. He used to visit 
 a cabinet-maker s shop, where were several young 
 men, and one or two lads near his own age, in the 
 hope of engaging their attention to serious things. 
 One morning, coming in from them, grieved at having 
 heard profane language, and feeling that he ought to 
 have said something to the person uttering it, he 
 could not be satisfied until, finding " The Swearer s 
 Prayer," and going back with the tract to the shop, 
 he gave it, with a few words of expostulation, to the 
 young man. They gave him the designation of The 
 Little Missionary, by way of ridicule ; but this did 
 not prevent his earnest desires for their conversion, 
 and ingenuous efforts in their behalf. 
 
 His regard for the Sabbath all through his youth 
 was peculiar j his grief in its profanation often ex 
 pressed ; and he was frequently known to take a tract 
 upon the claims of the Sabbath, and go out to give it 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 19 
 
 to persons who were desecrating the holy day. No 
 one could refuse to listen to a word of remonstrance 
 from one so young and interesting in his personal ap 
 pearance. 
 
 In the absence of both his brothers at this time, he re 
 sorted, as by a social necessity, to more intimate self- 
 communications with his mother and sister, such being 
 the frankness and affection of his character by grace and 
 nature, that his mental exercises and emotions must be 
 shared by others in order to be enjoyed by himself. 
 Many hours were spent at his bed-side, after he had re 
 tired for the night, in delightful converse. We have 
 often regretted that some record was not preserved of 
 those nightly conversations. So attractive and heaven 
 ly would he often be, it was difficult to leave him. 
 
 His mother sometimes, in his early sickness, would 
 express her sorrow in leaving him alone through the 
 night. Once, in particular, he sweetly answered her, 
 in the words of Scripture, as his manner was, " What 
 time I am afraid, I will trust in the Lord." 
 
 His early development of faith and devout emotion, 
 was no less remarkable than his religious activity. His 
 Christian character, at the first youthful period, when 
 the hand of disease was laid on him so heavily, was 
 signalized by a great love of personal labor for the 
 conversion of those to w^hom he could gain access. 
 With a few tracts in his hand, he would pursue his 
 walks, and speak fervently to those to whom he pre 
 sented them ; and the very sight of one so young and 
 so feeble, engaged in such a work, with such sim 
 plicity and earnestness, had great power. 
 
20 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 So deeply liad this habit, together with the desire 
 of usefulness, taken possession of his being, that, at 
 times, it seemed uppermost even in his dreams. His 
 mother was accustomed to leave a cane by his bed 
 side, that he might knock in the night, should any 
 assistance be needed, under a paroxysm of disease. 
 One night a loud knocking was heard, and the family 
 having hastened to him, found him still asleep, but 
 with the cane in his hand, as calling for assistance. 
 "When it was inquired what he wanted, " Mother," was 
 his earnest, unconscious exclamation, " I can t make 
 sinners hear ! I can t make sinners hear P 
 
 On one occasion, his sister had been out for the 
 afternoon, and did not return till the latter part of the 
 evening. It was in the summer. He had retired, 
 being fatigued with the day s exertion, though, at 
 that time, better than usual in health. As was always 
 our custom, his room was the first place sought in 
 coming home. She went to tell him of the visit, and 
 convey the messages of Christian friends. He was 
 full of animation and hope ; had been to Gardiner to 
 visit the iron-foundry during the day, and his mind 
 was much excited with the thoughts started by what he 
 had seen. In giving an account of it, said he : 
 " When looking into the heated furnace, with the red 
 ore, I thought of the three worthies who were cast 
 into the one seven times heated ; and I felt as I gazed 
 upon the burning flames, that if Christ should call 
 me, I could go through them without fear." Such 
 was his joyous experience at that time of the love of 
 Christ. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.I). 21 
 
 A little after this, while suffering severely under an 
 attack of asthma, he was asked by one of the family, 
 who was going to visit a beloved relative, what mes 
 sage she should carry from him. " Tell her," was his 
 immediate reply, in the manner peculiar to himself 
 " tell her, with my love, that the hand of the Lord is 
 heavy upon me, yet I rejoice in him daily." 
 
 Sacred music, by the voice and piano, was a delight 
 and solace to him in his affliction. The hallowed lan 
 guage of praise and adoration was often upon his lips ; 
 and his voice, thrilled by feeling, was full of melody. 
 One morning, when he was more than ordinarily under 
 the power of disease, and panting for breath, his mother 
 had left the room upon his partial recovery from a severe 
 coughing spell. It was but a few minutes after that 
 she was arrested by the sound of singing from his 
 apartment ; it was his own voice, lifted in praise for 
 relief, warbling its gratitude in that verse of Watts : 
 
 I ll praise my Maker with my breath ; 
 And when my voice is lost in death, 
 
 Praise shall employ my nobler powers : 
 My days of praise shall ne er be past, 
 While life, and thought, and being last, 
 
 Or immortality endures. 
 
 He was always ready to acknowledge the least 
 alleviation in his suffering ; and his most general answer 
 to the common inquiry, how he was, would be, " I feel 
 better now." It was customary in the earlier treat 
 ment of his malady, to administer emetics of Ipecac. 
 Relief to his painful wheezing was generally imme 
 diate upon the operation of one of these emetics ; and 
 
22 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 the sweet playfulness of his nature would then shine 
 out with peculiar lustre. 
 
 At such times especially, says one who was called 
 to this office of love for a series of years, it was a 
 delightful privilege to minister to him. Affection 
 was never weary in its tender offices ; and to the suf 
 ferer it was a great consolation to have those whom 
 he loved so tenderly in his presence and sight. I re 
 member learning that lovely piece of Leigh Hunt to 
 his son, six years old, during sickness, while keeping 
 watch around his bed in one of his attacks of asthma. 
 The two .first verses seemed a life-like description of 
 our brother, arid the whole was strikingly expressive 
 of our feelings : 
 
 Sleep breathes at last from out thee, 
 
 My little patient boy ; 
 And balmy rest about thee 
 
 Smooths off the day s annoy 
 I sit me down and think 
 
 Of all thy winning ways ; 
 Yet almost wish, with sudden shrink, 
 
 That I had less to praise. 
 Thy sidelong pillowed meekness, 
 
 Thy thanks to all that aid, 
 Thy heart, in pain and weakness, 
 
 Of fancied faults afraid ; 
 
 The little trembling hand 
 
 That wipes thy quiet tears : 
 These these are things that may demand 
 
 Dread memories for years. 
 
 He was grateful for the least attention, and always 
 expressed pleasure in receiving any favor, even as he 
 delighted to give pleasure to others, often exerting 
 
M.D. 23 
 
 himself beyond his strength in order to entertain 
 those about him. Good old Deacon Gow, a Scotch 
 man, and a pillar of the church, was in the habit of 
 visiting at his mother s whenever the teachers meet 
 ing was held there ; and it was interesting to see 
 them together the aged saint and youthful disciple 
 in close communion upon heavenly things. The deaf 
 ness of the deacon made it a great effort for the young 
 invalid to converse with him, unless he was remark 
 ably well ; yet, how often has he been known to seat 
 himself by the side of the patriarch, and sustain an 
 animated conversation when gasping for breath. The 
 good old man, now in glory, truly loved his society ; 
 and he was often heard to say, after spending an after 
 noon with him, " I have really been edified and in 
 structed by that young disciple." 
 
 These interviews were frequent after uniting with 
 the church at the age of fourteen. The time of his 
 joining was a season of peculiar religious interest 
 at Hallowell, under the ministry of Rev. George 
 Shepard. Many young persons were then subjects of 
 the grace of God, with several of whom he contracted 
 a warm friendship, which after settlement and useful 
 ness in life never abated. Their interviews together 
 under his mother s roof, were precious and refreshing 
 seasons, which will be dear in the memories of eter 
 nity. 
 
 Confined, as he was, for a long time, to the society 
 of home, there was, of necessity, a freedom of inter 
 course not common in ordinary life. His love, from 
 early childhood, was strong for his kindred, and to all 
 
2-1: MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 about him he was greatly endeared. For one espe 
 cially, a lovely cousin, when a very little boy, his 
 affection was ardent and sincere. She was his fre 
 quent companion in his first sickness ; and his desires 
 for her conversion, after the change in his own feel 
 ings, were very strong. He told his mother that he 
 could tell Charlotte everything, and make her his 
 entire confident formerly ; but now he found it dif 
 ficult to express to her his earnest wishes for her con 
 version, but was consoled in the thought that he could 
 pray for her. 
 
 It is very rare to find united such a pure, impelling 
 love for souls, and warm, natural affection for friends. 
 His attachment to his pastor, also, was very strong. 
 When detained by the weather, or an attack of his 
 malady, from the sanctuary on the Sabbath, his minis 
 ter, Mr. Shepard, invariably called to see him on 
 Monday morning, and contributed, by his attention 
 and kindness, very greatly to his happiness. 
 
 He thus speaks of his leaving Hallowell, in a note 
 dated October 8th, 1836 : " The painful moment to part 
 with our beloved Mr. Shepard and family, has now 
 come. Mrs. S. has taken leave of us this afternoon. 
 It is indeed a c wrenching of ties to have him thus 
 leave his present sphere of usefulness, and an affec 
 tionate people. To many here it is not clearly seen to 
 be his duty. But I hope he will be eminently useful 
 at Bangor, and that the Lord will provide for his peo 
 ple here, though it is doubtful if another so able and 
 good a man as Mr. S. be found." 
 
 "When, at another time, he himself was about leav- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVEK, M.D. 230 
 
 ing his native place, with his next elder brother, for a 
 voyage to foreign parts, in quest of health, and was 
 endeavoring to combat the anxieties of his mother, in 
 view of separation, he said to her, with his peculiar 
 simplicity and sweetness, " Why, mother, if I were to 
 die here, surrounded by you all, I must die alone. 
 You could not go with me through the dark valley ; 
 and if I die away from you, I know I shall have the 
 presence of Christ to relieve the gloom. I am sure 
 he will be with me ; and what more do I need ? You 
 must be comforted in the thought of such a constant 
 friend. He will never leave nor forsake me." At the 
 same time, he wrote an affectionate note of farewell to 
 his pastor, and another requesting the prayers of the 
 church in his absence, to be read at church-meeting. 
 
 He used often to say, after his distressing paroxysms 
 of asthma, that he thought it most probable he should 
 yet be taken away in one ; and that he felt perfectly 
 willing to die so if his heavenly Father should see fit 
 to remove him. He thought he suffered more than the 
 agonies of death at such time ; but would often add, 
 that he had such delightful views of the heavenly 
 world and its glories, in the midst of his sufferings, 
 that he longed to take his place there, and be free 
 from the impediments of the material vehicle which 
 pressed so heavily upon his spirit here. These conso 
 lations, as well as sufferings, and the temper with 
 which he bore them, greatly enhanced the love of his 
 friends. 
 
 In sickness or health, in joy or sorrow, he was in 
 expressibly dear to us from childhood upwards. Wo 
 2 
 
26 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 were one as boys, and happy all day long at school 
 and at play, skating and sliding, nutting and swim 
 ming, and trundling our hoops. And then, how mutu 
 ally dear we were when separated the first summer of 
 his sickness the one to go to Phillips Academy, An- 
 dover, the other to Old York in quest of health. And 
 ever after how beloved he was, through those long 
 years of sanctified suffering on his part, whereby he 
 led the way into the kingdom of heaven, until we were 
 together again, and all in all to each other in our 
 wanderings upon the sea, and our sojourn in the 
 south of Spain ! 
 
 It has been a mournful, and yet, with the sunny 
 rays of his character always shining upon us from his 
 actions and words here recorded, it has been a happy 
 survey that we have taken in this volume of his varied 
 life and peaceful death. The friends who shall follow 
 us in it, will learn much that will be instructive, both of 
 the inner and the outer life of one that was truly a 
 child of God, while a person of rare intellect, taste, and 
 sensibility; who travelled far and widely in pursuit 
 of health, without ever losing his heart s best trea 
 sure the love of Christ. 
 
 If a sweet, social temper, gushing love 
 
 For kindred and for kind, spirits forever 
 
 Sparkling and buoyant as a spring s light bubbles ; 
 
 Mirth, candor, frankness, the desire to give 
 
 Pleasure to friends, and good to every one ; 
 
 And more than all, true love for Christ and souls 
 
 If these be traits that mark a genial nature, 
 
 Beloved and formed to bless, through God s rich grace, 
 
 Our cherished brother was that happy man. 
 
27 
 
 No more the tender offices of love 
 We pay him here on earth, but all his virtues 
 We fondly cherish ; and that radiant face, 
 From its calm sphere within the spirit world, 
 Like a bright star shall still look down and cheer 
 Our life s sojournings, till at length we come 
 Where he the promises, through patient faith, 
 Inherits, and enjoys the rest of heaven ! 
 
 We add here, as presenting certain aspects and im 
 pressions of the character, through the medium of 
 another mind, a letter from his eldest brother, George, 
 to the editor of the New. York Evangelist, addressed 
 to that paper from Charleston, South Carolina, dated 
 January 21st, 1845 : 
 
 " It is now nearly three months since I wrote you 
 from Havre, on the eve of starting on my voyage to 
 Cuba. I set sail thither, hoping, by God s mercy, to 
 meet and comfort my dear brother ; but even before 1 
 sailed, his spirit had taken its flight from this suffer 
 ing body, and he had gone to be forever with the 
 Lord. Ah ! how little do we know what is before us ! 
 Day by day I was counting the hours of our passage, 
 and wishing for the land in deep anxiety, yet trusting, 
 through the Lord s goodness, to meet my beloved 
 brother in at least as good health as when we parted 
 and anticipating the joy I would give to his heart in 
 a land of strangers ; but already he was beyond the 
 need of earthly comfort, surrounded by heavenly com 
 panions, and with that Friend closer than a brother 
 that Saviour who loved him, and gave himself to die 
 for him ! 
 
28 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 " He was indescribably dear to us. There is some 
 thing in the sufferings of a friend, long-continued and 
 patiently endured, that brings him nearer to the soul 
 than even the ties of relationship. The more care we 
 have to bestow upon those dear to us, and the more 
 anxiety they cost us, the dearer they are. Is it not 
 even so with our blessed Saviour towards those for 
 whom he died, to heal whose sickness, and remove 
 their sins, it has cost him such an infinite expense of 
 love and suffering. The greater that expense, the 
 more he loves them. God has certainly implanted, 
 even in us, some such principle in the constitution he 
 has given us. But our Saviour thus loved his enemies. 
 "We think it much if we are faithful to our friends. 
 
 " I may be pardoned if I add a word as to the sweet 
 character of my departed brother. His natural love 
 liness, his talents, his acquisitions of grace and know 
 ledge, his unceasing, sparkling cheerfulness, even 
 amidst suffering his playfulness and enjoyment inr 
 social intercourse, even beneath the heavy hand of 
 disease, were qualities that made all love him who 
 knew him. The frankness and simplicity of his nature 
 were like a child s ; and he had such openness of 
 character, that it seemed as if he were just as willing 
 you should see its defects as discover its excellencies. 
 An enthusiastic ardor characterized his application, 
 when the intermissions of disease permitted anything 
 like regularity in his pursuits. 
 
 " It had been the desire of his heart to engage in 
 the study and work of the ministry ; but cut off from 
 this after years spent in the fruitless endeavor to 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 29 
 
 recover his health he applied to the study of medi 
 cine, at first, rather as an employment than with 
 much hope ever to enter on its practice as a profes 
 sion. His desire to do something in the world to be 
 able to feel that he was useful, was very great ; and 
 unspeakable was the anguish he sometimes endured 
 in brooding over years and energies wasted by dis 
 ease. Sometimes, when he saw me at work, he would 
 sit down and weep, with the feeling that he was al 
 most worthless ; and all endearments could not com 
 fort him. But God had a blessed design in all this, 
 and, doubtless, the suffering discipline was better for 
 him than would have been the most successful labors. 
 
 " He prepared, amidst illness, as his TJiesis for ex 
 amination a treatise on his own disorder, which, had 
 he been spared to perfect it, as was his intention, 
 would certainly, in every respect, have been worthy 
 of publication. The difficulties he encountered in 
 gaining his profession, and afterwards in overcoming 
 the obstacles thrown in his way in Havana, during a 
 month of tedious effort, Spanish delay, and jealous 
 scrutiny, to obtain the degree necessary to practise in 
 a strange land, together with the patient energy of his 
 perseverance in the midst of those difficulties, were 
 almost inconceivable, and always beneath the pressure 
 of bodily weakness and suffering. 
 
 " With a friendly physician he visited patients under 
 the yellow fever, to gain, as soon as possible, a know 
 ledge of that sickness, and endeavored to communi 
 cate spiritual comfort when he could aid in no other 
 way. Established, at length, by the providence of 
 
30 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 God, in Trinidad, he was beloved by all who knew 
 him, and seemed on the eve of accomplishing, for a 
 little season, the desire of his life, when, by the same 
 All- wise Providence, every hope was blasted, and 
 c the bark perished even in the haven s mouth. But 
 no ! it has not perished, bnt is only lost from our 
 sight for a little while in the keeping of the Re 
 deemer in the light of heaven. 
 
 " It was most painful to witness the wearing and re 
 pressing power of disease upon his physical system, 
 while, at the same time, the mind, unhindered in its 
 growth, and unwearied in its energies, seemed as if 
 seeking deliverance, or intended for some stronger 
 tabernacle. A few stanzas of poetry, written to him 
 at this period, describe the gradual and stern certainty 
 with which it was felt that disease was fixed upon 
 him, and would never depart, together with the 
 change it had already wrought upon his youthful 
 and elastic frame, repressing, also, as we saw, in a sad 
 degree, the almost indestructible buoyancy of his 
 spirits. Through God s unutterable mercy, a sweet 
 Christian resignation took the place of that buoyancy, 
 and more than supplied its sustaining power ; and 
 afterwards, when a residence, and travelling in mild 
 climates, had given his constitution a little opportu 
 nity to come up, as it were, with his mind, something 
 of the cheerfulness of childhood seemed returning to 
 him. 
 
 " He had great generosity of mind and heart, and a 
 most tender sympathy with others in difficulties. He 
 had been exposed to great trials and perils, both of 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEE, M.D. 31 
 
 soul and body, in some of his journey ings abroad ; 
 and an experience as wdl as knowledge had been 
 given him, which might have fitted him for great use 
 fulness, but it pleased God otherwise. Those who 
 knew him as President of the Medical Temperance 
 Society, in his college, well remember with what 
 active, joyful zeal and earnestness he set himself to 
 animate its movements, to inspire an interest for it in 
 others, and to overcome the prejudices of some who 
 were opposed to it. It is pleasant to mention the 
 great kindness and sympathy of his instructor, Dr. 
 Parker, towards him a kindness which he remem 
 bered with gratitude in a strange land. 
 
 " He had no hope of recovery from his disease by a 
 residence in Cuba, but only to have it alleviated, and 
 his life spared a few years, if God would grant him 
 this mercy. Often he expressed the conviction that 
 he could not recover. I shall one day perish by the 
 hand of Saul, he would say, in reference to his 
 malady ; but thanks be unto God, he could also say 
 with David, Why art thou cast down, O my soul ? 
 and why art thou disquieted within me ? Hope thou 
 in God ; for I shall yet praise him who is the health of 
 my countenance and my God ! 
 
 " He was buried at sea. But the sea shall give up its 
 dead; and then the enraptured spirit, that in this 
 tabernacle did groan, being burthened no longer 
 weighed down and fettered by the sickness, and pain, 
 and hard-drawn breath of its imprisoning clay shall 
 be clothed upon with a body of incorruption, power, 
 and glory, that mortality may be swallowed up of life. 
 
32 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Oh, blessed hope of the resurrection! For thereby 
 c we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, who 
 shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned 
 like unto his glorious body, according to the working 
 whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto 
 himself." 
 
 Arrayed in glorious grace, 
 
 Shall these vile bodies shine ; 
 And every shape and every face 
 
 Look heavenly and divine. 
 
 " How sweet the assurance that c our times are in 
 his hand; and how consoling the thought to those 
 who have lost dear friends far away, that precious in 
 the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints ; and 
 that all the circumstances of such deaths are ordered 
 by him in unutterable love, and for their good. Whe 
 ther his children shall die at home or abroad, in the 
 midst of strangers or encircled by sympathizing, sup 
 plicating friends whether those who love them shall 
 walk with them, and talk with them, and pray with 
 them clown to the river of death, and bid them fare 
 well on its borders, within sight of the celestial city, 
 or whether they shall enter it alone, and yet, not alone 
 where Christ himself is present, and bright commis 
 sioned angels are waiting on the soul !" 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEB, M.D. 33 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 YOUTHFUL DIAKY, RELIGIOUS LIFE AND CONSECRATION, 
 BEING AN EXEMPLIFICATION OF GRACE IN THE BUD. 
 
 ? Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours, 
 And ask them what report they bore to heaven ; 
 And how they might have borne more welcome news ; 
 Their answers form what men EXPERIENCE call. 
 
 YOUNG. 
 
 WE enter now upon a series of extracts from the 
 private journal, begun by the subject of this memoir, 
 when thirteen years of age. It was intended solely 
 for his own benefit, and his own eye, as a means of 
 self-improvement and self-examination ; and the bene 
 ficial results to himself upon his style and his cha 
 racter strongly commend the experiment to others of 
 his age. His entries are often little more than a sum 
 mary of his days, marked by great simplicity and 
 naturalness of expression, though generally in lan 
 guage maturer than his years. He kept another jour 
 nal for the use of his friends as well as himself, from 
 the time that he left home in pursuit of health. They 
 are both written, like all his papers, in a legible, clear 
 2* 
 
34: MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 hand, and were kept with singular neatness, order, and 
 precision, furnishing a practical proof and commen 
 tary of his methodical and regular habits of business 
 and self-discipline, in the formation of which he was 
 thrown almost entirely upon his own resources and 
 perseverance, having little help from training in 
 school after his twelfth year. The pa^es of his jour 
 nals, together with letters which will be interspersed, 
 constitute an unmeant auto-biography, to which we 
 shall be mainly confined for the material of future 
 chapters. Our extracts begin soon after the com 
 mencement of his youthful diary : 
 
 Hallowell, March 29th y 1829. SABBATH. The anniver 
 sary of my natal day has at length arrived, and with how 
 much better health than the last ! With how great forbear 
 ance has the Lord borne me through sickness me, so un 
 worthy the notice of an All-wise and Infinite Being, and 
 given me as much health as I do now enjoy. Can my grati 
 tude be too heartfelt to him who has thus kindly brought me 
 to the beginning of another year in so much health, peace, 
 and comfort ? Ought it not to humble me to see my entire 
 dependence upon him ? His mercies are so abundant, I can 
 exclaim with the Psalmist : 
 
 Lord, when I count thy mercies o er, 
 
 They strike me with surprise ; 
 Not all the sands that spread the shore, 
 
 To equal numbers rise. 
 My flesh with fear and wonder stand 
 
 The product of thy skill ; 
 And hourly blessings from thy hand 
 
 Thy thoughts of love reveal. 
 
 April Qtk. I have been employed a part of this morning 
 in writing a letter to George. I can perceive every day a 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 35 
 
 great many faults in my conduct, which must be speedily 
 remedied. But it is of no avail if we see our faults, and do 
 not correct them. We must, with a stern determination, 
 resolve to correct whatever we see amiss in ourselves, that 
 thereby we may be holy and righteous in this world, and 
 prepared for the next. 
 
 April 2Qtk. I am fearful that the resolution in the first 
 part of my journal, concerning daily composition, will not be 
 fulfilled. For I now write nothing worth the trouble of tak 
 ing pen in hand. I feel almost disconsolate, when I think of 
 myself of hardly any use in the world ; but if it is the will 
 of Providence that I should have this trial, why not be re 
 signed to it ? 
 
 Whilst Henry and E. are rapidly advancing in their 
 studies, I am making no progress, nor have I advanced in 
 any degree to compare with them. If I had been in health, 
 and anywise diligent, how much might I have learned, and 
 how many books read in the time that I have been unwell. 
 But is not the privation balanced by the many comforts and 
 blessings I have, and am receiving every day, from an 
 almighty hand ? 
 
 April 22d. I have seen a shocking sight to-day. An old, 
 grey-headed man, so much intoxicated that he could hardly 
 stand. It is very distressing to witness that dreadful vice 
 indulged to such unrestrained degree at any age, but still 
 more so at an advanced age, when all ought to be preparing 
 for a future state, though none, by any means, to procras 
 tinate with the hope of being spared to old age. 
 
 April 24th. I have been confined to the house to-day, on 
 account of the rain-storm. Oh! that I was able to go to 
 school with Henry, and go out in all weather. How much 
 more happily would the time wear away. My ill health is 
 more depressing to me than ever. Now that I am growing 
 older, the denial from study seems harder than it has ever 
 been. It is very difficult for me to reconcile myself entirely 
 
36 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 to this trial, which I feel to be the greatest one I have. Oh, 
 that I might have that inestimable quality patience. It 
 would be a sweet balm to all my afflictions. 
 
 April 30th. I feel much better in mind as well as body, 
 when I am employed in something that will be useful. It 
 appears to injure me more to read or study, than ever. I 
 begin to think that I shall never be able to fulfil my wishes 
 in regard to my studies. I cannot read in a book that re 
 quires very great attention. The words appear to run toge 
 ther ; my head feels dizzy, and sustains various feelings ; still 
 I can take a newspaper, and read a short time. But this 
 deprivation, as well as many others, must be borne with due 
 patience. 
 
 May 4th. Our dear brother George arrived this evening 
 iu very good health and spirits I never was so glad to see 
 him in all the time that he has been from home. We ought 
 to be very grateful to our heavenly Father, that we are again 
 brought together under circumstances of so much happiness. 
 
 May 14th. We think of going away the ensuing summer, 
 if nothing happens to prevent. Mother and myself will go 
 to York ; Henry, to Andover, with George, and E. will 
 go to Boston to attend school. Everything is so uncertain, 
 that I do not set my heart upon it ; for how many things 
 may transpire which will render it impossible for us to go. 
 
 June 10th. A sorrowful day. I have had to be separated 
 from those I so much love all at once. It is too much to 
 bear. Tears are the only relief I can resort to. The house 
 appears to be bereft of all its most lovely ornaments. De 
 solate, indeed, it seems ; but this world has not much else 
 beside trouble and separations. QJi, may we all emigrate to 
 that happy land, where we shall never part, but live forever 
 in eternal happiness. 
 
 June 30th. We have arrived in York. We ought to feel 
 grateful to the Almighty that we are at length brought to our 
 journey s end in safety, and in as much health as we now 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVKR, M.D. 37 
 
 enjoy. The salt water is very near the house, so that I can 
 go fishing any time when it is pleasant. I want to write 
 H. and G-., but it seems a tremendous job. 
 
 July 3d. Have been down to the SHORT SANDS alone, 
 where I had a full view of the mighty ocean. There was 
 wind enough ; and the large surges, one after another rolling 
 upon the beach, and dashing against the rocks, made it truly 
 grand and inspiring. 
 
 " In every object here I see. 
 Something, Lord, that leads to thee ; 
 Firm as the rocks thy promise stands, 
 Thy mercies countless as the sands, 
 Thy love, a sea immensely wide, 
 Thy grace, an ever-flowing tide. 
 In every object here I see, 
 Something, my heart, that points at thee ; 
 Hard as the rocks that bound the strand 
 Unfruitful as the barren sand, 
 Deep and deceitful as the ocean. 
 And, like the tide, in constant motion." 
 
 July ISth. Have had the worst turn of breathing that I 
 ever had yet. I hardly know how I lived through it. The 
 only way I got relief was by taking an emetic. I am much 
 better now, and I ought to be thankful that there is anything 
 that will afford me relief. I have some hope that by abstain 
 ing from meat altogether, and living upon light food, I may 
 be as well as I sometimes have been at home. But it is the 
 Lord s will ; let him do what seemeth him good, and I must 
 be resigned to the dispensations of his almighty hand. I have 
 thought whether the salt water-air may not be too bracing for 
 me. 
 
 Wednesday 22d. I have received a most beautiful letter 
 from Mr. Rowland, at Andover Seminary. May the kind 
 interest he takes in my salvation be not expressed in vain. 
 Oh, Lord, grant that it may help to the salvation of my soul. 
 May his advice not be lost on my stubborn heart. May the 
 
38 MEMOKIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 arrows of conviction strike deep. Oh, that I might answer 
 yes to the inquiries he makes of me. Then, ah ! then should 
 I know what it was to have a new heart to have this vile 
 one washed with the purifying blood of the Redeemer of 
 sinners to have my sins forgiven through the merits of the 
 gracious Saviour. Then, indeed, should I rejoice in view of 
 an entrance into the kingdom of God. Then should I have 
 a " very present help" in times of trouble and oppression. 
 When bowed down with sorrow and trials, should I have a 
 never-failing source of resort for solace and consolation. 
 I have no kind brother, as I had at home, like Henry, to im 
 part all my feelings and thoughts to. Oh, yes, I think of, 
 and wish for him, very much indeed. I see a great many 
 beautiful prospects, and much rich and delightful scenery ; 
 but my descriptive powers are not good enough for me to de 
 scribe it. 
 
 July 23d. Evening. I am sitting at the little entry win 
 dow ; the sun has just set, and a most beautiful scene lies 
 before me. There is not a breeze to ruffle the smooth sur 
 face of the water ; and save the slow ticking of the clock, the 
 chirp and singing of the robin and other birds, the occasional 
 brawling of a neighboring child, and the roaring of the 
 water as it runs through the mill-dam, there is nothing to 
 disturb the stillness that pervades this beautiful and most de 
 lightful scene. 
 
 July 2bth. This I hardly know what term to give it is 
 getting towards a close. I turn the last leaf this evening. It 
 is the first journal that I have ever written, and the last I hope 
 that will be written so badly. It is a pretty good record of 
 what the weather has been since its existence, and my ill 
 turns, if nothing else. I think I shall keep it up, if it is 
 only for the recreation it affords my depressed spirits after the 
 tediousness of the day is past. 
 
 And now I have closed my JOURNAL. Hurrah ! Hurrah ! 
 
 July 21th. How different the circumstances under which 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 39 
 
 I write now from what my other Journal began with at home. 
 My health has been unstable. I have been quite well at 
 times, and also very sick indeed since I left Hallowell. 
 Though my health is not restored, numerous, oh yes, very 
 many blessings have I had to be grateful for. Every day 
 ought to inspire us with gratitude to our Heavenly Father, 
 that He hath brought us so far through life ; that we have 
 raiment to wear, and food to eat. Our most common bless 
 ings are our greatest ones ; and those that we generally prizo 
 as the smallest, we should be the most wretched without. 
 
 August 21st. The bright hopes that I cherished a week 
 since have been sadly disappointed, even beyond what I had 
 any idea of, for I have been almost as unwell as ever. 
 Received a letter from H. I fear that the supposition he 
 makes in regard to my preparing for college at Phillip s 
 Academy, and for the ministry at the Institution, will never 
 be realized, unless my health is restored very soon. There is 
 a possibility yet, but rather a faint one, that a thing I so 
 much desire may be. Oh, if I could study and be always 
 with a dear brother ! 
 
 August 22d. I have ridden down to the SHORT SANDS 
 with my cousin, E. K., who bathed in the ocean, which I 
 longed to do too, but it would not do for me. It is a most 
 beautiful and romantic place. It brings to mind a scene in 
 the " Antiquary" by Sir Walter Scott, where Sir Arthur 
 Wardour and his daughter were near perishing, in attempting 
 to go round Halket Head, by the flowing up of the ocean, and 
 were relieved by the timely assistance of Lovel and the fisher 
 man Mucklebackit, through the medium of Oldbuck ; and not 
 the least by any means, the mendicant Edie Ochiltree, who 
 was the first to aid them in their preservation. It is a very 
 fine place to ride at low tide, the sand being almost as 
 smooth as glass. Toward the end of the beach there are 
 immense cliffs piled one over the other, and sharp and largo 
 heaps of rocks scattered about in different places. My jaunt 
 
40 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 has made me feel much better, and I shall ride again in a 
 few days. 
 
 Monday, 31st. I had a very bad night, but am much 
 better than I expected this morning. Last week I received a 
 letter from George, which is good enough to be printed. 
 What affectionate interest he shows towards me ! How I 
 long to see him and H. Oh ! I will try and have reli 
 gion may God help me to obtain it. Oh ! most blessed 
 consolation that thou art ! If I have thee, I shall be prepared 
 for whatever can befall me in this world, resigned to trial 
 and suffering, and ready to quit it whenever the Almighty 
 shall please to call me away. No ; it must not be put off 
 any longer ; now is the only time which I can strictly 
 call my own. Oh ! may my heart be purged from all sin, and 
 I be led to repentance and faith in Christ, who taketh away 
 the sin of the world, on whom we can lean and safely trust. 
 
 September 7th. I was not able to go to meeting yesterday, 
 but hope I tried to spend the Sabbath well at home. QhJ 
 what blessed hopes the Bible holds out to those that give 
 themselves up to God, and walk in the way of everlasting life 
 May I read that blessed book with a fervent desire to obtain 
 good! 
 
 Wednesday, I6th. Yesterday I went down to the SANDS 
 with uncle s gun, and shot four Sandy-birds, which are very 
 fat. I shonld love to partake of my own game, but it would 
 interfere with my resolution of abstinence from animal food ; 
 so I shall not break it. I have felt a great deal better since 
 I have been a gunning. I was on a place yesterday where I 
 had not been before, Fort Hill so called. These are the 
 remains of two old forts which were built in the Revolution 
 ary war. They are on a high eminence, and command the 
 harbor very well. The proud waves were dashing themselves 
 against the rugged cliffs and rocks, and throwing their spray 
 high up in the air ; I think it was beyond all that I have seen 
 . of the sea. No soul was with me, and I was left alone to 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEB, M.D. 41 
 
 wonder at the works of the Almighty Creator. My descrip 
 tions are totally inadequate to such scenes, yet my admira 
 tion of them is silent, sincere, and heartfelt. Not by any 
 means am I blind to the wonders which are everywhere dis 
 played in this charming place. 
 
 Say what they will about Nahant, and other resorts for the 
 fashionables and valetudinarians, Old York yields to none of 
 them ; and if it were in the vicinity of some large and popu 
 lous city, there is no doubt it would be celebrated. I have 
 seen so many sublime and pleasant scenes since I have been 
 here, that in what few I have dabbled at, there is a continued 
 repetition of the words delightful, beautiful, and grand. 
 
 September 30th. Next week is the time appointed for our 
 departure from this pleasant spot, where I have experienced 
 some sorrow, but more happiness, and which I shall regret 
 to leave, although I have a pleasant home in anticipation. As 
 long as my memory lasts, I think I shall never forget my 
 visit to York. Now have I seen a good many of the 
 places which I have so many times heard my dear mother 
 give account of. Although I have been unwell a good part 
 of the time, I have had a very pleasant summer, and many 
 blessings to acknowledge from an Almighty hand. When I 
 anticipate the pleasure I shall experience in again meeting 
 Gr. and H., the foretaste is almost too much for me. Oh 
 how glad I shall be to see two brothers loved so dearly as 
 they are by me. 
 
 Hallowell) December 25th, 1849. It is a long time since I 
 have written in my journal, and many things have occurred 
 which are perhaps worthy of note. Nevertheless, I shall not 
 enter into a long detail of them, but only state that we are 
 once more at home, and have been for a period of more than 
 two months, in the enjoyment of those blessings which God 
 has always been liberal in giving. Henry is at home, 
 and I enjoy his company very much. Gr. has been, but 
 has now departed. E. of course is not at tome, and 
 
42 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 will not be until spring. I think my general health is much 
 improved, although I am rather unwell at present. On 
 Sabbath night H. and myself made certain solemn resolu 
 tions, which I most earnestly desire we may be enabled to 
 perform and keep. " Watch and pray, lest ye enter into 
 temptation," is the command of our Divine Lord and Master. 
 May we indeed obey that command, and be strong in our 
 endeavors to foil the evil tempter in all his insinuations to 
 make us backslide, and may we gain a glorious victory over 
 sin and temptation. 
 
 January 1st, 1830. The old year has passed away, and 
 the new one has commenced, and I fear I am yet far from 
 the kingdom of heaven ; but may I advance still nearer to the 
 haven of rest, and may not another year pass without my 
 having found peace in believing, and devoted myself unre 
 servedly to God. 
 
 Sabbath day^ 3d. I this day resolve trusting in God for 
 strength to perform it, to forsake my sins, take up the cross, 
 and follow Christ. Oh ! I am a poor, miserable sinner, 
 unworthy of the least of Grod s mercies. Of myself I can do 
 nothing. Oh ! may I apply to that living fountain of all holi 
 ness, and obtain a draught of living water which shall spring 
 up unto life everlasting ! 
 
 Monday, January llth. Since writing last, a thing has 
 occurred for which we ought to manifest so much gratitude, 
 that it deserves to be mentioned here. Last Thursday, H. 
 and myself were skating upon the river, and the former not 
 skating very fast, took hold of a rope fastened from the mast 
 of a vessel to a stake in the ice, and the rope being slack he 
 fell immediately down, almost the whole weight of his body 
 coming upon his head ; consequently he was injured very 
 much. Our gratitude ought to be great that he was not 
 killed instantly. This ought to admonish us how uncertain 
 life is, and upon how brittle a thread our existence depends. 
 Moreover, seeing this instance of the goodness of God in pro- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 43 
 
 serving him, we ought to rely more upon his care. May it. 
 serve to enforce upon us all the words of our Lord that " wo 
 know not the day or the hour when the Son of Man 
 cometh !" 
 
 January 29th, Thursday. Not so well in body as I have 
 been for some time. I hope I can say that I am submissive 
 to the will of the Lord respecting me. Oh ! may I be deeply 
 humbled in view of my manifold transgressions. How merci 
 ful is God unto me ! I can say with David, " weeping 
 endureth for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." So 
 is it with me ; in the night when my disease is raging with 
 violence, I am almost ready to give up all hope, but in the morn 
 ing hope again revives, equally as I am strengthened in body. 
 
 February 28th, 1830. I am now reading a book which 
 Mr. S. lent me, entitled " Letters to an Anxious Inquirer." 
 I like them very much ; exactly applicable to me. if any 
 thing, I am more backward in prayer than when I last wrote. 
 Cannot find language to clothe my ideas in, if I have any. 
 What is this owing to ? It is owing to the wickedness of my 
 own heart. And how can it be corrected 1 By steady reso 
 lution and perseverance. But I do resolve and re-resolve 
 again, and then relapse into the old course and continue 
 there, until I make another vain resolution. 
 
 March 29th, 1830. This is my birthday (fourteen years 
 old), and I am unhappily suffering under a distressing attack 
 of my grievous complaint. In taking a retrospect of the last 
 year, I see that I have been in the steady enjoyment of num 
 berless blessings from my Heavenly Father. I also see, 
 which is certainly humiliating, how little has been evinced of 
 gratitude by me ; how entirely undeserving I am of the very 
 least of all ; that it would be just if all were taken from me 
 by the same hand which has so bountifully supplied me. But 
 unutterable thanks be to Him, who is " merciful to the evil 
 and unthankful," that he has thus kindly brought me through 
 all the dangers and vicissitudes which I have experienced, to 
 
44 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 the light o. another of my natal days. In what a loud and 
 clear voice does it call for the surrender and leading captive 
 of all my powers to the foot of the cross, there to resign the 
 entire disposal of them and myself to Him who alone can save 
 us. Qh that glorious era ! when will it come ! when will it 
 be that I shall become a humble follower of our Lord and 
 Saviour Jesus Christ ? Then, and not till then, I am firmly 
 persuaded, shall I be happy. 
 
 April 27th. Worldly and backsliding all the time. Cold, 
 lifeless, and inanimate, as regards all spiritual things, but full 
 of life and vigor about everything else these few weeks of 
 better health. 
 
 June 1th. Not well in health at present, but have been 
 finely. I hope that my spiritual health is rather better. 
 Since I wrote last, we have had the great happiness of wel 
 coming GL and E. again to our pleasant home,, both in fine 
 health and spirits. 
 
 To the overflowing cup of mercies that have rained upon 
 us from our Heavenly Father like manna upon the Israel 
 ites we hope has been added that of having our dear G. 
 gathered into the fold of Christ. This is worth more than all 
 our earthly blessings. If there is any comfort in affliction, 
 besides that which comes directly from the true and never- 
 failing source of consolation, it is that of having our near and 
 dear relatives able to be the almoners of those promises which 
 are sure and abiding, and of those consolations which are 
 unspeakable. 
 
 October 18th. I have for two Sabbaths past enjoyed the 
 great happiness of hearing my dear brother s voice exerted in 
 pleading with the people of God for renewed zeal and activity 
 in the cause of Christ. His text was from 1 Peter i. xv. 
 " But as he who hath called you is holy, so be ye holy in all 
 manner of conversation." He preached three sermons from 
 this text, and three noble ones they were. 
 
 November 3d, 1830. I hope I can say that my spiritual 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 45 
 
 health is better than it has been for some time past. I hope 
 also that I am in some measure at least resigned to the will 
 of the Lord concerning me. Oh that he- would give me entire, 
 unreserved, and unconditional resignation to his Divine plea 
 sure, and that I might have such a perfect acquiescence as 
 that I should delight in it; yea, should glory in it, should 
 verily glory in the endurance and performance of it, though 
 it should cost me great bodily suffering, and should grievously 
 afflict and distress me. I think also that I can say with fear 
 and trembling, that I do in some measure try to imitate that 
 perfect pattern which Christ has left as an example for us to 
 follow, and that I do try to live holy, godly, and righteously, 
 in this present evil world. I try to, and think I do rely upon 
 the merits and righteousness of Christ for acceptance with 
 God. I hope that his love in a degree constrains me. But 
 oh, my soul, thou knowest that it does not as it ought. 
 Think, oh think, of the amazing love he has shown unto thee 
 in redeeming thee from everlasting destruction, in saving thy 
 soul from death, thine eyes from tears, and thy feet from fall 
 ing, and in suffering and dying for thee, even the death of the 
 cross and then think of thine own shameless deficiency. 
 
 So far as can be gathered from the Journal, and 
 from the recollections of friends, the early part of this 
 month of November, 1830, seems to have been the 
 period when the subject of these experiences, by the 
 regenerating grace of the Holy Spirit, passed from 
 death unto life. 
 
 It is on the fifteenth of this month that we find 
 written the following Covenant of self-dedication and 
 prayer, partly in the words of that found in Dod- 
 dridge s Rise and Progress in Religion, which he had 
 been very prayerfully and earnestly perusing. It 
 
46 MEMOEIALS OP THE LIFE 
 
 forms the last record in the second volume of his 
 Early Journal. 
 
 From this time it is instructive to notice how, in 
 accordance with the experience of other favored 
 Christians, after a similar act of self-consecration, the 
 peace of God which passeth all understanding began 
 to keep his heart and mind in Christ Jesus. 
 
 Hallowell, Nov. Ibth, 1830. Eternal and ever blessed God, 
 I desire to present myself before thee with the deepest humilia 
 tion and self-abasement of soul, sensible how unworthy such 
 a sinful worm is to appear before the holy Majesty of heaven 
 the King of kings and the Lord of lords, and especially on 
 such an occasion as this, even to enter into a covenant 
 transaction with thee. But the scheme is thine own. Thine 
 infinite condescension has offered it by thy dear Son ; and I 
 hope thy grace has inclined me to accept of it. I come, 
 therefore, acknowledging myself to have been a great offender, 
 smiting on my breast, and saying, with the humble publican, 
 " God be merciful to me, a sinner !" I come, invited by thy 
 Son, and wholly trusting in his perfect righteousness, entreat 
 ing., that for his sake, thou wilt be merciful to my unright 
 eousness, and wilt remember my iniquity no more. Lord 
 I beseech thee that thou wilt receive me through thy dear 
 Son. Receive me into thy covenant of promise. May I no 
 more be a stranger from the commonwealth of Israel ; but, 
 oh ! may I become a fellow-citizen with the saints, and of the 
 household of God. 
 
 This day, I, Nathaniel Cheever, do, with the utmost so 
 lemnity, surrender myself to thee. I give myself up to thee. 
 I renounce all former lords that have had dominion over me ; 
 and I consecrate to thee all that I am, and all that I have. 
 I desire to say unto thee, Here, Lord, I give myself away, 
 do with me as it seemeth unto thee good. And I hope I de- 
 
M.D. 47 
 
 sire, that the health which thou givest unto me, my time and 
 my influence over others, the members of my body, the facul 
 ties of my mind, I desire to present them before thee this 
 day, as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto God, as 
 my most reasonable service. In thy service I desire to spend 
 the remainder of my time on earth, and pray that thou 
 wouldst enable me to do all things to thy glory. 
 
 And, blessed God, do thou give me strength to persevere 
 in this course to the very end of my life. Oh, strengthen me 
 with might, by thy Spirit, in the inner man. Nor do I only 
 consecrate to thee all that I am and have ; but I also most 
 humbly resign and submit myself, and everything relating to 
 me, and set every enjoyment and interest before thee, to be 
 disposed of in such a manner as thou shalt, in thine infinite 
 wisdom, deem most subservient to the interests of thy_glory. 
 To thee I leave the management of all events ; and hope 
 to say, without reserve, " Not my will, but thine be done," 
 rejoicing with a loyal heart in thine unlimited government, as 
 what ought to be the delight of every rational being. Choose 
 me, I beseech thee, as an instrument of thy glory, and in the 
 advancement of thy kingdom. Number me among thy pecu 
 liar people. Let me be washed in the blood of thy Son. 
 Oh ! may I be clothed in the robe of his righteousness. Honor 
 me so far as that by doing or suffering what thou shalt appoint, 
 I may bring some revenue of praise unto thee, and of benefit 
 to the world in which I dwell. 
 
 Destroy, I beseech thee, more and more the power of sin 
 in my heart. Oh, may I wage a continual warfare against it. 
 May I hate it with a perfect hatred, not because it brings 
 ruin upon my own soul, but because thou, O God, canst not 
 look upon it without the utmost abhorrence, and because it is 
 utterly inconsistent with thine infinite perfections. Trans 
 form me more into thine own image ; and may my life be a 
 mirror of the life which was in Christ, whom, henceforward, 
 I would acknowledge as my teacher and sacrifice, my inter- 
 
4:8 MEMORIALS OF THE LITE 
 
 cessor and Lord. Communicate unto me the purifying, 
 cheering, and comforting influences of the Holy Spirit. And, 
 
 Lord, may I continually live in the light of thy gracious 
 countenance, which shall put joy and gladness into my soul. 
 And in the hour of sickness and distress, and in the trying 
 hour of death, Oh ! remember this thy covenant, well ordered 
 in all things and sure, as my consolation and my hope when 
 every other hope is perishing. 
 
 Oh, blessed Redeemer, put thine everlasting arm under 
 neath me ; and in the dark valley and shadow of death, may 
 
 1 fear no evil, because thy rod and thy staff they shall com 
 fort me. And wilt thou rob him of his sting, and may my 
 triumphant song be, " death, where is thy sting! O grave, 
 where is thy victory !" Amen. 
 
 Somewhat more than a month after the date of this 
 paper, lie was publicly united to the Old South Con 
 gregational Church, Hallowell, 011 the first day of Ja- 
 uary, 1831, with nine others, he being then in his 
 fifteenth year. It was a season of unusual interest. 
 A written account of his religious experience being 
 requested by his pastor, the Rev. George Shepard, 
 he prepared the following narrative for presentation 
 to the church : 
 
 NARRATIVE OF RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 
 
 I have nothing very remarkable to relate concerning the 
 Lord s dealings with me, though I will try to trace them as 
 ihey are in as plain and faithful a manner as I can. My 
 (mind was considerably excited upon the subject of religion 
 during the last revival, when the Rev. Mr. Danforth was 
 here, although I had no settled conviction of sin, and think 
 the impressions I then received were entirely effaced. 
 
 Since then, I think my attention was first called to the 
 subject about two years ago, by the conversation of Mr. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEKVKR, M.D. 49 
 
 Charles Weld, who, at that time, resided at our house. I 
 then began seriously to consider upon it, though I was not, 
 nor have I ever been, so exceedingly anxious as many who 
 are suddenly convinced of their lost and ruined state, as 
 abiding under the righteous penalty of God s holy law. In 
 this state I continued, not deeply anxious, but serious, and 
 very much interested for a long time, perhaps a year or more, 
 reading the Bible with attention, and taking considerable en 
 joyment in the duties of religion. 
 
 I have had many temptations, and still continue to have 
 them. About the end of the period I mentioned, I was 
 tempted with unbelief of the Bible for some time, which, of 
 course, destroyed all my enjoyments; but the Lord then, and 
 many times since, has graciously delivered me out of all my 
 troubles. And I trust that " he will not permit me to be 
 tempted above that I am able, but will with all my tempta 
 tions also make a way to escape, that I may be able to bear 
 it." 
 
 I cannot tell the time when I first experienced the renew 
 ing influences of divine grace, but think there has been a 
 spark implanted in my heart for a long time. Oh, may it 
 never cease to shine ; but may it increase in vividness and 
 lustre, until it shall be lost in that intense blaze of glory 
 which shall forever illuminate the heavenly kingdom, into 
 which we hope to " have an entrance administered." 
 
 I have never inquired so deeply into my feelings, as I have 
 for the past two months, and, consequently, have not known 
 so well what they have been ; but I think I can say that I 
 have enjoyed the consolations of religion for many months 
 past. I never before examined to see whether I had a hope 
 in Christ, but have gone on reading the Bible with great plea 
 sure, receiving much enjoyment from religion, and in the 
 perusal of religious books, and also feeling a deep interest in 
 the advancement of Christ s kingdom, and anxiety for souls. 
 These have been, I think, my feelings for nearly a year past, 
 3 
 
50 MEMORIALS OF TIIE LIFE 
 
 though I never had such an assurance of my own salvation, 
 as the Lord, in his infinite mercy, has been pleased to grant 
 unto me within a month or two. 
 
 Still, I would have none imagine that I have no doubts for 
 many 1 do have ; yet I hope I can trust entirely in the merits 
 of Christ, and on his righteousness alone. Merit of my own 
 I feel that I have none. " All my righteousness is as filthy 
 rags; 1 am altogether an unclean thing." 
 
 In regard to confessing Christ before men, I have felt it to 
 be both a duty and privilege, though more a privilege, but 
 one that I am entirely unworthy of. I have hesitated much 
 concerning the performance of this duty ; but the words of 
 our Saviour, " He that loveth me, keepeth my command 
 ments," have seemed to spur me on to obedience in this re 
 spect particularly, though I hope they would in every other. 
 I feel that if I love him (and I trust I do), that I shall keep 
 this as well as the rest of his commandments. I do not have 
 quite so clear views of the character of God, as I wish to ; 
 though I hope I love him sincerely, yet I cannot, as it were, 
 see him in my mind s eye so clearly as I can Christ. But I 
 think I truly desire to do and suffer his will, and promote his 
 glory above all things. 
 
 I think I have had deeper convictions of sin since I have 
 had reason to hope, than I ever had before ; and I hope I 
 have in truth repented of, and forsaken them all. I think I 
 have been brought to see and to feel deeply, the utter depra 
 vity and sinfulness of the human heart, and to experience 
 that of my own ; but I hope I have applied to Christ, " whose 
 blood cleanseth from all unrighteousness," and obtained par 
 don and remission of sins. This it does appear to me I 
 know, if I know anything at all of my own heart, that I do 
 sincerely and supremely love Christ ; and I am humbly per 
 suaded, in my present mind, " that neither death, nor life, 
 nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, 
 nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other crea- 
 
OF NATH.iNIEL OHEEVEE, M.D. 51 
 
 ture, shall be able to separate me from the love of God which 
 is in Christ Jesus our Lord." I feel that in my own strength 
 I can do nothing ; but that in the strength of Christ, I shall 
 come off conqueror, and more than conqueror. 
 
 Finally, dear brethren, pray for me, " that I may be 
 strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might ; that he 
 may perfect what is lacking in my faith ;" that " I may be 
 rooted and grounded in Christ ;" built up in him may grow 
 in grace, and in the knowledge and love of my Saviour ; and 
 most of all, may at last be " presented faultless before his 
 throne, with exceeding great joy." 
 
 NATHANIEL CHEEVER. 
 
 Hallowell, December, 1830. 
 
 Ah, how long shall I delight 
 
 In the memory of that day, 
 When the shades of mental night 
 
 Sudden passed away ! 
 Long around my darkened view 
 
 Had those lingering shadows twined ; 
 Till the gospel breaking through, 
 
 Chased them from my mind. 
 There was light in everything, 
 
 Everything was bathed in bliss ; 
 Trees did wave, and birds did sing, 
 
 Full of happiness. 
 Beauty in the woods shone forth, 
 
 Beauty did the flowers display, 
 And my glorious Maker s worth 
 
 Beamed with matchless ray." 
 
52 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 CHAPTEK III. 
 
 LETTERS AND MEMORIALS OF YOUTH. 
 
 We look before and after, 
 
 And pine for what is not ; 
 Our sincerest laughter 
 
 With some pain is fraught ; 
 
 Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. 
 
 SHELLEY. 
 
 THE materials for biography in the year 1831, 
 are scanty, by reason of almost all the private memo 
 rials of this period one of the most important and 
 interesting of his whole religious life having been 
 unwisely destroyed, soon after reading an article by 
 Mr. Dana in The Spirit of the Pilgrims, on the Mo 
 rality of Diaries. Fearing, from some considerations 
 therein presented, that he had been actuated by 
 wrong motives in recording his peculiar religious ex 
 periences, in an unadvised hour he committed them 
 to the flames. It was immediately, and ever after, a 
 cause of deep regret. 
 
 He pined for what was not 
 
 Long and bitter was his sorrow for having destroyed 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEYER, M.D. 53 
 
 those memorials of the Lord s goodness, and of his 
 soul s progress in the divine life. He felt that he had 
 erred and done wrong, and that he was led by the 
 tempter rather than by the Spirit, in annihilating 
 those records of the Lord s dealings w r ith his soul. 
 The act which he lamented so much, was done at 
 Newburyport, while he was residing there for the 
 summer with his eldest brother, who had charge of a 
 pulpit in that town. 
 
 The exercises recorded and destroyed, were very 
 peculiar ; but his grief in the loss of them, and the 
 influence upon his future character and life, gave 
 them their chief importance. The unhappiness it 
 caused him, none could tell. The journal was not 
 resumed again until the winter of 1831-32, when he 
 was at home once more under the maternal roof. 
 
 A few letters are preserved, which were w r ritten in 
 this interval. The one that follows was to his eldest 
 brother, George, in the summer of 1830, before he 
 made a public profession of religion. The line of 
 reading which he pursued, especially Johnson s Lives 
 of the Poets, which he read, marked, and inwardly 
 digested, contributed much to form his style of com 
 position ; and this may account for a maturity in his 
 language otherwise unnatural to his age and acquire 
 ments. 
 
 Hallowell, August 3, 1830. 
 
 MY DEARLY BELOVED BROTHER : 
 
 Having been for a long time deprived of the delightful 
 pleasure of writing you, the cause which has hitherto pre 
 vented being now removed, I have determined no longer to 
 
54 MEMOKIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 be denied, but to enjoy that pleasure in as full and free a 
 manner as possible. You must know that there are few other 
 causes besides ill health, which are sufficiently weighty to 
 prevent me from being myself the almoner of affections 
 which hardly know bounds. I enjoyed an interval of com 
 parative health for some time after you left us. It seems 
 almost impossible that one third of the time of your absence 
 has already expired. It is indeed the case, that we scarcely 
 cease lamenting your departure, before all our sorrow is ab 
 sorbed by the flood of joyful emotions your anticipated return 
 occasions. 
 
 When we consider that every moment which passes brings 
 us nearer to the termination of our probation on earth, and 
 to the beginning of an eternal existence, how ought it to stir 
 us up to increased endeavors, and strong exertions, to secure 
 that good part which shall not be taken from us, and to pre 
 pare us " to inherit that rest which remaineth for the people 
 of God." We are continually treading upon the threshold 
 of eternity. " Our lives are ever on the wing, and death is 
 ever nigh." Oh, that I sufficiently regarded the great ob 
 jects of our existence, and that my life was an index of my 
 feelings. But it is not, and I grieve to say it. I do not see 
 that my feelings are very different from what they were when 
 you were at home. I have the same difficulty in praying 
 that I then had. I do indeed pray ; but I can hardly con 
 ceive how prayers, inbred with so little faith and love, can 
 bring a blessing. I have got as far in " Baxter s Saint s 
 Rest," as " Our Title to It," and am very much pleased 
 with it. He certainly describes all he attempts in a very 
 faithful and plain, solemn manner. How inexpressibly how 
 inconceivably would the pleasure with which I now read it, 
 be enhanced, if I had good evidence that I should inherit 
 that blessed rest that eternal rest, which, at the end of mil 
 lions of ages, will be as new and blissful as at the time we 
 enter upon it. Oh ! that this book might be blessed for 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 55 
 
 good to my soul, and lead me to seek " that inheritanoe 
 which is incorruptible, undefilcd, and fadeth not away." 
 
 August 6th. Since writing the above, I have been attacked 
 with a paroxysm of my disorder, but through the blessing and 
 mercy of God, I am now getting over it. Surely the words 
 of David apply to me, " Weeping endureth for a night, 
 but joy cometh in the morning." How much more doth my 
 unwearied Benefactor do for me than I deserve ! His mer 
 cies are, indeed, u new every morning, and fresh every 
 evening." As sure as each day that returns, so sure are 
 blessings innumerable and unmeasured, scattered around 
 me. God is also my deliverer in the multifarious dangers 
 which continually compass me about. " Thou, Lord, art 
 a shield for me ; my glory, and the lifter up of my head." What 
 shall I render unto thee, Lord, for all thy benefits towards 
 me ? Everything of my own that I could offer, would not equal 
 a grain of sand in the balance. " All my righteousness is as 
 filthy rags." No unworthiness of mine would merit such 
 unbounded kindness. But there is one whose " righteous 
 ness is like the great mountains." His worthiness is equal to 
 my unworthiness. " Thou, O Christ, art all I want : More 
 than all in thee I find." 
 
 Although I am sometimes blessed with intervals of spiri 
 tual enjoyment, yet Satan and my own evil heart are con 
 tinually plotting the destruction of my comfort. Neverthe 
 less, God is able to succor me in every temptation. " He 
 shall deliver thee in six troubles, yea, in seven there shall no 
 evil touch thee." 
 
 I wish I could have some regular system of study ; but I 
 do not know that I shall be able to, until my health is better. 
 I shall study and read all I can when I am able. I cannot 
 help regretting how little I have accomplished this summer, 
 and how little to advantage improved my time. It seems as 
 though every day of my life went swifter than the preceding. 
 " Our days are swifter than a weaver s shuttle ; they pass 
 
56 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 as the eagle that hasteth to her prey." This volumin 
 ous document must answer for a long time, perhaps until you 
 have come home, and gone away again ; but whether I ex 
 press myself or am silent, in every situation and circumstance 
 you must ever believe me your loving brother, 
 
 NATHANIEL. 
 
 Hallowett, October 31st , 1830. 
 
 MY DEAR BROTHER HENRY. I should sincerely ask your 
 forgiveness for not writing oftener, if it were not that the 
 main excuse is too well known to need repeating. I have 
 been thinking as the weather is too unpleasant for me to be 
 out, whether it would not be right for me to take advantage 
 of it ; and have concluded, that considering all circumstances, 
 it is, provided I make the letter in some measure correspond 
 with the sacredness of the holy day upon which it is written. 
 Consequently, I shall try and give you some brotherly advice, 
 which I hope will be acceptable unto you. I trust that as you 
 see the vices of college, you will give double diligence to shun 
 them ; and that you will be kept from falling into any of the 
 temptations with which your path is beset. But you well 
 know that there is nothing in yourself which can prevent you 
 from doing so ; therefore beseech him who is faithful, that he 
 will, with all your temptations, also make a way to escape, 
 that you may bear it. Cast yourself upon Christ ; trust in 
 him and you are safe ; give yourself up to him, and he will 
 take care of you. 
 
 I do earnestly hope that you will not suffer your attention 
 to be drawn away from the contemplation of those invisible 
 and eternal realities, which will soon be opened upon our 
 vision ; but that you will be continually prepared for whatever 
 can befall you, and thus experience the happiness of a pre 
 paration for that rest which reniairicth for the people of Grod 
 You must not be high-minded, nor trust in uncertain things, 
 nor be puffed up with vain glory, but rather put on humble 
 ness of mind, meekness, and follow after righteousness. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 57 
 
 I can assure you, that without ceasing, I have remembrance 
 of you in my prayers, greatly desiring to see you. It is a 
 great disappointment to me, not being able to come down to 
 see you; but Thanksgiving will soon be here, and then I hope 
 we shall all partake of the bountiful blessings with which our 
 cup runneth over together, and with thankful hearts. It is to 
 be the twenty-fifth of November, and George will probably be 
 with us. 
 
 When T received your last excellent epistle, I could hardly 
 contain myself. What wonders the Lord is working ! I agree 
 with you in thinking that the millennial day will soon be here, 
 if revivals and converts are multiplied as they now seem to be 
 at least, that something like it will be enjoyed in our highly- 
 favored country. Let us joyfully praise the Lord that he is so 
 abundantly pouring out his Spirit in other places ; and let these 
 instances of his goodness lead us to pray more earnestly to 
 pray mightily, without ceasing, that he would visit us with his 
 presence that converts may increase as the sands on the sea 
 shore that all, yea ALL may honor him from the least even 
 unto the greatest. No ; it is not too much to ask that ALL 
 may be brought to the feet of Jesus. That blessed Saviour 
 hath said, u If thou canst believe, all things arc possible to 
 him that believeth." Let us pray in faith, believing that we 
 shall receive that God is able to give unto us more abun 
 dantly than we can ask or even think. Then may we expect 
 a blessing ! Then will the Lord reign triumphant ! " Oh, 
 that this dry and barren ground, in springs of water may 
 abound." I long and faint to see the work of the Lord going 
 on prosperously here. Do not measure my affection by what 
 I have written, but believe me your ardently loving brother, 
 
 NATHANIEL. 
 
 Hallowellj November 19, 1830. 
 
 MOST DEARLY BELOVED BROTHER HENRY. In the 
 tumult of my troubled thoughts, for some time past I hare 
 3* 
 
58 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 been as a poor storm-stricken barque, driven about hither and 
 thither, at the mercy of almost every wave, which Satan and 
 my own evil imagination united, have been able to excite. 
 But, notwithstanding my own folly and unbelief, the Lord 
 hath not utterly forsaken me, though I have wandered from 
 him ; but " he has delivered mine eyes from tears, my soul 
 from death, and my feet from falling." And now I may well 
 exclaim with David, " What shall I render unto the Lord for 
 all his benefits ?" and I hope I may unite with him in his 
 answer, " I will take the cup of salvation, and call upon his 
 name" with more earnestness, and serve him with more devo 
 tion, than I have yet done. If we were as faithful to our dear 
 Redeemer as he is to us, how different should we be ! 
 
 If by the introduction of ourselves, and our own experi 
 ence, we may do anything towards promoting each other s dili 
 gence in the way to heaven, or furnish food for praise to our 
 blessed Master, then I hope it will be an excuse for thus 
 making myself so far the subject of this letter. I am glad 
 you are so pleasantly and profitably situated, and hope all 
 your blessings will increase your love and devotion to him 
 who is the fountain from whence all originate and are sup 
 plied. 
 
 Your eyes must be a severe drawback from your amount 
 of study ; but I hope the grand principal of your treasure in 
 heaven will be so much the more added to by this very means. 
 You must be very careful not to injure them by too much 
 use ; but when you are disabled from using your mortal eyes, 
 then open your spiritual vision, and go up and survey the pro 
 mised land, and you shall obtain the first-fruits of your pos 
 session, which will be as honey in the honeycomb, and sweet 
 refreshments on your way thither. You must, dear Henry, 
 forgive this advice-giving manner of writing, when I stand in 
 need of so much exhortation myself, and receive it from the 
 source whence it comes, a sincere desire for your good. 
 
59 
 
 The following letter to a beloved uncle is almost the 
 only one that is preserved, written to persons out of 
 his own family circle. It was copied by his Mother, 
 "without his knowledge, before it was transmitted, she 
 judging it to contain something remarkable as from a 
 lad of fifteen. 
 
 Hallow dl, April 2Qth, 1831. 
 
 MY DEAR UNCLE Although I have so long delayed to 
 fulfil that promise I made to you, yet, nevertheless, feeling 
 the force of the proverb, " hotter late than never," I have 
 determined not to let another opportunity pass without send 
 ing some testimony of my great affection both to you and all 
 my beloved kinsfolk, in the very ancient and venerated town 
 of Old York, greatly endeared by being the birthplace of my 
 beloved mother, and the long-continued abiding city of my 
 venerable ancestors. My dear late Grandfather has now, I 
 trust, entered that " heavenly city which hath foundations, 
 whose builder and maker is God." He waited long for his 
 reward, but now I hope has received it, and a glorious one it 
 is. He is now walking about the new Jerusalem, marking 
 well her bulwarks, counting her towers, and surveying her 
 beautiful gates, unincumbered with this fleshly tabernacle, but 
 clothed afresh in his Redeemer s righteousness ; there his 
 voice which was here rendered discordant by old age and 
 Infirmity, shall be for ever tuned to the triumphant u song 
 of Moses and the Lamb." 
 
 Oh, my dear uncle, it were ten thousand times worth while 
 to write you, if it were only to let you know, if language 
 could do it, the infinite riches of his grace, which God has 
 manifested unto me in bidding me to choose that better part, 
 " a Saviour s matchless love," in assuring me my sins arc 
 forgiven, and my transgressions blotted out, and above all, in 
 giving me a title and making me an heir to that everlasting 
 rest which remaineth for his people ; this is indeed that 
 
60 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 peace winch the world cannot give or take away, the calm, holy 
 joy, which all the philosophy, vain reasoning, and foolish imagi 
 nation in the whole universe, cannot confer, but which will 
 indeed be given to all who will only believe in, love, and obey 
 that blessed Saviour, who will never disappoint our hopes. 
 
 Dear Uncle, this balm of Gilead would be a cheering con 
 solation to you in the midst of all your trials. Jesus is a 
 friend " that sticketh closer than a brother." He regardeth 
 not our outward circumstances ; if so be we only have the 
 riches of a broken and a contrite spirit, he will surely accept 
 it. I sincerely rejoice that my dear cousins B. and M. have 
 chosen that good part which shall not be taken from them, 
 but will serve them when all other hopes fail. I would gladly 
 make known unto you how condescendingly good and gracious 
 the Lord has been to us as a family, in bringing us all to be 
 partakers of his grace, and of the household of Faith. And 
 to add to all our blessings, my health is much improved, so 
 that I feel somewhat encouraged to hope it will be entirely 
 restored. 
 
 I intend taking a journey on horseback as soon as we can 
 obtain a good horse, and it is possible that I may wend my 
 way towards Old York. I can assure you that if I journey 
 anywhere near to the land of my forefathers, I shall not fail 
 to let you see I remember with gratitude and great pleasure 
 the pleasant summer I spent under your hospitable roof. 
 
 It injures me to write long letters, and therefore I will 
 leave the rest of the sheet for Mother s initiated pen to fill. 
 She will tell you all about us. Give my best love to cousins 
 B. and M., and all Uncle John s family, and accept the 
 hearty wishes both for your temporal and spiritual welfare of 
 your affectionate nephew, 
 
 NATHANIEL CHEEVER 
 
 To J. S. BARRELL, Esq., 
 York, Maine. 
 
 It was about this time, on occasion of the fifteenth 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEE, M.D. 61 
 
 anniversary of his birth, that he received from his 
 brother George, then a resident Licentiate at Andover,a 
 birthday tribute, which is inserted here simply because 
 it illustrates certain points of personal character and 
 history better than anything else can, and because it 
 explains and prepares the way for the rejoinder that 
 followed. 
 
 MY BROTHER S BIRTHDAY, MARCH 29TH, 1831. 
 
 I wish, dear Nat, my heart could weave 
 A strain of simple melody, 
 Where love in every line should leave 
 Its own dear tones for thee. 
 
 And sooth, if love could teach the soul 
 The language of Apollo s lyre, 
 My thoughts would all be musical, 
 My words all wing d with fire. 
 
 x The wish, I know, is sadly vain, 
 
 Thoughts rise, and fond affections throng, 
 But with the sweetest white-stoled train, 
 Then comes no tone of song. 
 
 I would chain down the airy crowds, 
 And keep them while I seek sweet words ; 
 Alas ! they change like summer clouds, 
 They droop like prisoned birds. 
 
 How can I paint their changeful dyes, 
 Or stay them in their shining flight 1 
 They come like birds from Paradise, 
 They fly away as light ! 
 
 The simplest birthday wish is shy 
 All Love s best thoughts of the same race 
 For while I m sure I have them nigh, 
 They ve fled, and left no trace. 
 
62 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Dear BROTHER, thou wilt then forgive, 
 Nor think me less affectionate, 
 If, while to meet thy wish I strive, 
 It comes a day too late. 
 
 For were my soul all melody, 
 My words the same they use in heaven, 
 This earnest heart could never be 
 More freely to thee given. 
 
 We re one ; our mother s equal care ; 
 One in our mutual sympathies, 
 And more than all, in mutual prayer, 
 By endless, holy ties. 
 
 I ve rocked thee in thy cradle played 
 With thee in childhood s frolic hours ; 
 With thee have roamed through grove and glade 
 And plucked the vernal flowers. 
 
 We ve shared old winter s wild delight, 
 We ve gathered nuts in summer woods, 
 We ve proudly watched our breeze-borne kite 
 Among the sailing clouds. 
 
 But not in such gay sympathy 
 Our mutual love has tenderest grown ; 
 For oft must griefs sad harmony 
 Interpret its deep tone. 
 
 When sickness blanched thy rosy cheek, 
 And brought thy buoyant spirit low, 
 How dear thou wast from week to week, 
 I trembled then to know. 
 
 Our youngest, brightest household flower ! 
 It was a melancholy thing 
 To see thee droop from hour to hour, 
 In patient suffering. 
 
 Oh, then I felt the privilege 
 To breathe my silent, humble prayer ; 
 Yet wept o er pains, whose wasting edge 
 My frame could better bear. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEB, M.D. 63 
 
 I watched thy restless sleep I tried 
 To woo thee to thy wonted smile, 
 And every way, when by thy side, 
 Thy sufferings to beguile. 
 
 These duties were love s natural sphere ; 
 My drooping flower I cherished so, 
 That still the more it asked my care, 
 The dearer still it grew. 
 
 This day did fancy paint what s true, 
 I m with thee in my own dear Home, 
 To talk of mercies past and view 
 The Heavenly Life to come. 
 
 This day Tis yet thy being s dawn ! 
 But Oh how full the mingled scene, 
 On memory s pictured tabkt drawn! 
 Calm now, and all serene. 
 
 Serene, because a blessed faith 
 Throws o er each melancholy line, 
 That marks affliction s rugged path, 
 The gleam of Love Divine. 
 
 Through all, it sees thy Father s form ; 
 His gracious, guiding hand beholds, 
 And in the gloomiest of the storm 
 Some bright design unfolds. 
 
 Amid the suffering of years, 
 Thou seest thou didst not walk alone ; 
 When all was agony and tears, 
 Then most His mercy shone. 
 
 Twas thus he drew thy careless heart 
 Up to a holier world above, 
 And bade thee choose that better part, 
 A Saviour s matchless love. 
 
 There is a gayer-colored scene 
 Of laughing health and dimpled ease; 
 Thy bounding heart that knew no pain. 
 Was wild as any breeze. 
 
MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 The house was merry with thy song, 
 Thy fawn-like step danced free and wild ; 
 And of the happy schoolboy throng, 
 Thou wast the happiest child. 
 
 All elements to thee looked gay, 
 All seasons ministered delight ; 
 Twas constant motion every day, 
 J Twas gentle sleep at night. 
 
 How soon a cloud of painful hue 
 Chased the bright jubilee away, 
 Yet, wast thou happier then than now ? 
 Dear, patient brother, say. 
 
 I know thine answer, well In vain 
 Are youth, and health, and spirits given, 
 If strangers still to care and pain, 
 We never think of heaven. 
 
 What soothes the soul, betrays : select 
 The best possessions earth can grant, 
 Our thankless heart may still reject 
 Its Heavenly Visitant. 
 
 A life all ease is all abused ; 
 O precious grace ! that made thee wise, 
 To know affliction rightly used, 
 Is mercy in disguise. 
 
 The pleasures of the happiest boy 
 Are not so bright as fugitive ; 
 But O ! the endless, heavenly joy 
 Thy Saviour s smile can give ! 
 
 Bring me each gem earth could impart, 
 To crown life s morning festival, 
 One breathing of a contrite heart 
 In bliss were worth them all. 
 
 For this my fervent thanks I raise, 
 That He, whose love is wisdom too, 
 Makes thee partaker of his grace 
 By trials here below. 
 
OF NATHANIEL OILEEVER, M.D. 65 
 
 Trust, then, thy dear Redeemer s name ; 
 For He can never, never leave 
 The weakest of the flock he came 
 To seek, renew, and save. 
 
 Should health and active power return, 
 And life put on a brighter glow, 
 Be often at his cross, and learn, 
 His goodness best to show. 
 
 Tis only He who gives the boon, 
 By grace can make it truly good ; 
 And I would have thy life be one 
 Of ceaseless gratitude. 
 
 In active health, or sad disease, 
 Oh, ne er forget that precious word 
 " He shall be kept in perfect peace, 
 Whose soul is stayed on God." 
 
 If still thy feeble frame decay, 
 Thou art beyond its weak control, 
 The vision of eternal day 
 
 Lifts up thy strengthened soul. 
 
 Christ holds thee in his powerful hand, 
 Soon every foe and fear subdued, 
 Thy feet shall press the shining land, 
 Beyond death s narrow flood. 
 
 But if his blessed will reserve 
 Thy faith for trials long and late, 
 Remember, then, " they also serve 
 Who only stand and wait." 
 
 His will, whate er it be, is best, 
 With Jesus all thy sorrows hide, 
 And in his love thou shall be blest, 
 Whatever else betide. 
 
 THEO. SEMINARY, ANDOVER, MASS., March, 1831. 
 
MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Hallowell, April 10^, 1831. 
 
 DEARLY BELOVED AND HONORED BROTHER. I have been 
 fo:- sonic time trying, with all my might, to manufacture ma 
 terials for one of my long, slow-written, and belabored, 
 though withal affectionate epistles ; but all my attempts had 
 hitherto been abortive, until I received your delightful and 
 truly poetical letter, which seemed to let loose the flood-gates 
 of affection, and bring all the mighty waters of love to bear 
 irresistibly upon the wheel of my will. 
 
 I have said " belabored epistle," because I do suppose that 
 it takes me about as long, perhaps longer, to write a half 
 page, than it does you to fill a whole sheet from beginning to 
 end, with the most invaluable and affectionate counsel and 
 advice. So you may see, my dear Brother, that to me it is 
 an undertaking of no common magnitude and importance. I 
 wish sincerely that I could " weave some strain of simple 
 melody," to return my warm, hearty, and heartfelt thanks for 
 your affectionate stanzas, to express my admiration of which, 
 all language is alike in vain. I do most ardently wish that I 
 could clothe my thanks in some other garment than the bare 
 expression of them in cold, dry prose. I have tried, but in 
 vain, to habit them in the shining vesture of poetry ; but I 
 seem to be as unfruitful in this respect as the dreariest desert. 
 
 But 1 will turn from this subject to one which, I hope, will 
 enlist the warmest feelings of both our hearts the cause of 
 our blessed Redeemer. I rejoice, yea, and will rejoice, that 
 I have ever chosen " a friend and helper so divine ;" and I 
 think that since I have publicly declared him to be my chosen 
 portion, I have felt more steadfast and unmovable, and have 
 been able to rely upon him with a more implicit confidence 
 than before. 1 long, perfectly long to see your face, and 
 " talk of mercies past, and view the heavenly life to come." 
 Oh, what a blessed hope is that which we enjoy ! Eternal 
 life ! To be for ever with our beloved Saviour ! Drink in for 
 ever his boundless love. We shall be filled, yet not cloyed 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 67 
 
 always loving, yet never cease to love. Well may we say, 
 when we can read our titles clear to the heavenly inheri 
 tance : 
 
 Let cares like a wild deluge come, 
 
 And storms of sorrow fall, 
 May I but safely reach my home, 
 
 My God, my heaven, my all. 
 
 Oh ! may we all meet upon that blissful shore never more 
 to part. It is an unutterable consolation to know, that if we 
 once arrive there, we shall never, never more separate. The 
 dear little Lou ; 3a,* I do feel a tender anxiety for her, that 
 she may become a sweet lamb of Christ s flock, and a par 
 taker of the same hope with all the rest of us. You must, 
 dear Brother, make mention of her particularly in your sup 
 plications at the throne of grace. When I look upon the 
 amazing goodness of God towards us as a family, I am struck 
 dumb with astonishment, and can only exclaim : " It is the 
 Lord s doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes." It becomes 
 us, indeed, above all other families, to be all his devoted ser 
 vants. 
 
 The state of religion here is as favorable, if not more so, 
 than it has been. We have established a prayer-meeting for 
 every Sabbath morning. I hope the interest will soon be so 
 great as to have it every morning. I wish you would send 
 a neat pocket edition of llise and Progress ; but be sure it 
 has the whole in it. Such an invaluable book I want the 
 whole of. Never cease to pray for me that I may be filled 
 with all wisdom and spiritual understanding. 
 
 The date and place of the following letter, indicate 
 the removal of its writer from the maternal roof at 
 jLLiilluwell, to the temporary abode of his brother 
 George, at Newburyport, Mass. The journey thither 
 
 * This was a young cousin, for some years a member of the family. 
 
68 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 was effected in a chaise, under the care of his beloved 
 pastor. It was hoped that the change might prove 
 beneficial, and that a summer s residence nearer the 
 sea would invigorate his corporeal frame, and the 
 society and care of his brother be helpful to his spiri 
 tual growth. All the time of his abiding there, was a 
 period of deep and solemn religious interest. The 
 exercises of his mind, and his love for souls were re 
 markable ; and the development of his religious cha 
 racter excited a warm interest in the hearts of those 
 with whom he was conversant. 
 
 Newluryport, August 23d, 1831. 
 
 MY VERY DEAR SISTER. Having been thus far prevented 
 from fulfilling the desire of my heart, by an obstacle which, 
 by the goodness of God, seems now in a measure to be re 
 moved, I have determined to open the hydrant of my affec 
 tions, and let them flow on in an undisturbed course towards 
 the place of their grand " merry-meeting" home. And surely 
 if self-denial be great in proportion to the strength of the 
 principle resisted, then have I exercised it in no small degree, 
 in so long restraining myself from answering your welcome 
 sheet, which has served to unlock the great fountains of my im 
 prisoned love, and let its fragrant waters bound forth in such 
 a lively and vigorous manner as would soon have made you a 
 witness of their strength ; but the frail tabernacle which I 
 inhabit, was in too weak a state to perform the will of its 
 ever active and willing spirit ; and so, out of stern necessity, 
 I was obliged to sit down and wait patiently until my strength 
 of body should, in some slight measure, be equal to the fulfil 
 ment of the struggling desires of my heart. 
 
 I received your cheering letter at a time when (if indeed 
 circumstances could render an epistle from home more or less 
 acceptable) it might truly be termed " as cold water to a 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 69 
 
 thirsty soul ;" for it greeted my longing eyes on the eve of 
 the day of the departure of my dear Brother for Andover, 
 on his way to Amherst. You will, probably, think I am 
 quite desolate without his delightful society in a strange town, 
 and without any near and dear friend to supply the place of a 
 brother beloved ; but though you may with truth believe I 
 feel his absence, yet I feel no sense of dreariness, as I have 
 a chamber to myself which commands a very pleasant pros 
 pect both of the sea and land, and what 1 think will gene 
 rally be the case in the domains of our dear Brother a 
 choice assortment of the most enriching and edifying books. 
 But, although these are sweet refreshments and means of 
 comfort to our weary souls when used aright, yet I think I 
 should soon faint and fall down by the way, if I had not the 
 sweet solace and comforting cordial of a Saviour s love, 
 wherewith to refresh my weary spirit, and from whence to 
 derive support in the hour of pain and temptation. 
 
 We have long had reason to bless the name of the Lord, 
 which would hardly seem capable of increase in this place of 
 our pilgrimage ; but I think since I have been in the scene of 
 our dear Brother s labors have seen and heard of his useful 
 ness that he has been made the blessed instrument of turn 
 ing some unto lightcousness this seems to give birth to 
 feelings that cannot be uttered. Oh ! what wonderful love is 
 that which makes use of such worms for the accomplishment 
 of his purposes of mercy. Why doth not he who knoweth 
 all things from the beginning, speak the word only, and all 
 the nations of the earth all the creatures of his creation, 
 shall, in swift obedience, bow the knee unto the mighty Re 
 deemer ! But no ; his infinite love chooses rather that they 
 whom he has redeemed with his precious blood, should de 
 clare his name unto others. May this fresh instance of the 
 inexhaustible goodness of our heavenly Father have its right 
 effect, and make us all to increase in humility and holy devo 
 tion to our Master s service. The revival still continues, I 
 
70 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 believe, with unabated interest, and many new pilgrims are 
 turning their faces Zionward. 
 
 We turn again to the Journal, of which there is 
 nothing preserved in the year 1831, until near its close 
 
 l) December 18. 
 
 It is now more than two months since I have written to 
 record the dealings of God towards me, or to mark against 
 myself my own wanderings ; hut I think it has not been from 
 a disposition to depreciate His goodness, or to think lightly of 
 my own unfaithfulness, but from a conviction that the entire 
 sinfulness of my heart would have room to act, and thus rather 
 than be a benefit would prove detrimental to my spiritual 
 welfare ; and the same conviction led me to destroy the be 
 ginning of this diary, but I do now most sincerely repent of 
 it. And I do now, in again commencing it, call the Lord 
 God to witness that it is from a sincere, humble desire for my 
 own spiritual improvement, and, therefore, for His glory. The 
 subordinate objects shall be, first, a regulator of my actions, 
 and guard of my conversation and deportment ; second, a 
 check on the misemployment of time ; third, to keep my heart 
 with all diligence, a restrainer of wandering thoughts, a sort of 
 tribunal before which to bring to judgment my thoughts, 
 words, and works. But I will guard against being in any 
 measure satisfied with it to the exclusion of the most faithful 
 self-examination of my feelings will endeavor to be as con 
 cise and brief as possible never write more than I feel, from 
 mere pleasure in writing. I will consider it more as a means 
 of improvement, and therefore, as a duty rather than a mere 
 pleasure. 
 
 Sabbath 20th. Have had a delightful day of rest. Enjoy 
 sweet consolation in looking forward to an eternity of happi 
 ness in the presence of God. The Lord has been most gra 
 ciously kind in delivering me from temptation. Have been 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 
 
 most dreadfully harassed for several weeks with vile thoughts, 
 insomuch as to destroy almost all my enjoyment. Lord, 
 suffer them no more to return, but occupy my heart so en 
 tirely with thyself, that other thoughts shall have no room to 
 enter. I solemnly meant to have renewed my covenant with 
 God upon its anniversary, but I was tossed and driven about 
 in such a manner that I could do it with no profit. 
 
 February 19, 1832. Oh, wretched being that I am ! who 
 shall deliver me from the body of this death ? I am misera 
 ble have grieved away the Holy Spirit. I doubt whether I 
 have ever been renewed. I am convinced of the guilt of 
 destroying the first part of this journal. It was the beginning 
 of sorrows with me. All evidence of being a Christian seems 
 to be gone. Seem to have no plans for the future. All order 
 is gone. Cannot think, talk, or act. Am an unfruitful tree. 
 Don t know what to do. Seem to have no refuge. The light 
 of God 1 s countenance is hid from me. But it is all owin<r to 
 
 O 
 
 my own negligence. I have departed from him, and He has 
 hid his face from me. All I seem to do is to look back like 
 the man with the turned head. 
 
 March 18^, 1832. Sabbath. My birth-day is fast ap 
 proaching. Can it be that I shall be sixteen years old ? I 
 have not improved the last six months of this year to any pur 
 pose. I do think it was a serious injury to me in destroying 
 the first part of this journal. I can never replace it, no, never. 
 I can t be said to think. Don t do any thing. Have forgot 
 every thing I knew. I want to do something, and to do 
 something in the world. But I feel that my character is 
 spoiled, almost irretrievably. I advance and then go back, 
 and then advance a little, but it seems to avail nothing. Am 
 studying, but seem not to understand myself turn this way 
 and that, but do nothing. 
 
 March 25th. Feel better than I have. Have made con 
 siderable progress in my studies, but do not seem to be spi 
 ritual. My birth-day is fast approaching. Soon all will be 
 
2 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 past. I shall soon be in eternity. Eternity ! that solemn 
 word ! Am I living for eternity ? Am I adorning the doc 
 trine of God my Saviour in all things ? I feel confident that 
 I am not. But, shall I sit down and say all is done and past? 
 Not by any means. My obligations are infinitely greater than 
 they ever were before. My health of body is more than it 
 has ever been since afflicted with ill health. And, by the 
 grace of God, I do resolve to fight and strive to advance in 
 the heavenly road. Help I must have, for all my efforts are 
 ineffectual unless assisted by that grace and strength which is 
 from above. Do thou, Lord, give it. Oh, give me an 
 abundance of that daily grace which I so continually need. 
 
 May 22d, 1832. Tuesday. A solemn providence has 
 occurred. Death has almost, as it were, crossed our own 
 threshold. My cousin, 0. M. Sewall, a daughter of my dear 
 aunt Hannah, departed from this noisome world on Saturday 
 afternoon, May 19th, at 4 o clock. Her release, we have 
 reason to think, was a happy one. She has for a long season 
 endured a large amount of suffering, which she has borne with 
 the most exemplary patience, but she has now escaped from 
 her prison-house, and, I trust, is enjoying the blessedness of 
 a redeemed spirit in the presence of her God and Saviour, 
 who was her support and consolation while tortured with the 
 pains of a diseased body. 
 
 I have this day been to visit the now lifeless clay which she 
 inhabited while on earth. What an humbling lesson of mor 
 tality is an inanimate body ! " Dust thou art, and unto dust 
 thou shalt return," seems to be written upon every feature. 
 And how soon this sentence will be executed upon me ! I 
 may be the next victim upon whom Death will fasten. I know 
 neither the day nor the hour when the Son of Man cometh. 
 But it is no matter how soon he comes, if I be only found with 
 my loins girded and lamp trimmed and burning ; if I only be 
 found ready and waiting to welcome his first approach. May 
 this solemn event be blessed to me as the means of increasing 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEKVER, M.I). * 7?> 
 
 my growth in grace, and warning me to prepare at any time 
 to lay down this earthly tabernacle, and be called before God, 
 a naked soul to receive of the deeds done in the body. 
 
 Hallowell, April 8th, 1832. 
 
 MOST DEAR AXD HONORED BROTHER GEORGE. You might 
 well think, by my long-continued silence, if you had not 
 hitherto perceived too great a depth of affection in me to 
 warrant such an opinion, that I had ceased to regard you by 
 this endearing title, and was content to be merely denomi 
 nated by the appellation of brother a term significant in 
 deed of a most endearing relation, yet which sometimes exists 
 under the almost total want of fraternal feeling. But you, I 
 am sure, will credit my honest profession, taimtsi mea tacitur- 
 nitaS) that there has been no diminution, but rather an in 
 crease of my ardent brotherly affection ; and I hope this letter, 
 though it may be short, will, in some measure, atone for my 
 former delinquencies, and restore my epistolatory escutcheon 
 to its ancient purity. 
 
 It will certainly not be an exercise unbefitting the charac 
 ter of this sacred evening, to mention some of the numberless 
 mercies which I have been, and am continually receiving from 
 the unwearied and overflowing beneficence of our heavenly 
 Father. The unwonted and almost continual supply of 
 health which I have this winter enjoyed, and the ability to 
 study it has given me, are blessings which, independent of the 
 multifarious ones we are always receiving, ought to excite not 
 only in my bosom, but, 1 think I may say without egotism, in 
 all our hearts, the most sincere and unfeigned gratitude. I 
 know that we all, as a family, and as Christians, possess many 
 sympathies which render a blessing conferred upon one indi 
 vidually, in some degree conferred upon the whole. 
 
 You who have never been for a long time interrupted by 
 sickness, or, in fact, from any other cause, either in academic, 
 collegiate, or theological studies, can hardly conceive the joy 
 
 4: 
 
74: MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 and satisfaction it affords me to be enabled, after so Ions; an 
 interval, not only of interruption but of disease and inability, 
 again to be permitted to return with new zest to their prose 
 cution. I think I may safely say, my health has never been 
 so good, and I have never enjoyed so much strength and 
 vigor since the period of my first illness. As E. is writing, 
 and will probably inform you concerning my external appear 
 ance, I will add no more on this topic, knowing that I have 
 already said sufficient to excite your gratitude, and I trust 
 also your prayers, that all my powers, both of body and soul, 
 may be entirely consecrated to the service and glory of our 
 blessed Redeemer. I do feel that this is only a reprieve 
 that death is not at all distanced by it that the sentence 
 may soon go out against me, to render up the feeble tenure 
 of life ; but I also hope that " for me to live it may be 
 Christ, and to die gain." I am now reading Sallust. 
 When shall I begin Greek ? I am studying under the direc 
 tion of Mr. Munroe, the Preceptor of our Academy, and am 
 much pleased with him ; still I want your brotherly advice 
 and supervision in this as well as every other respect as much 
 as ever. 
 
 The interval of improved health here referred to, 
 was nobly employed, yielding to all his friends a 
 satisfactory, and yet melancholy proof, of what he 
 might have attained in the way of mental discipline 
 and culture, had it pleased God to give a longer " re 
 prieve" from his depressing malady. This encourag 
 ing improvement, and the opportunity it gave him for 
 study, and the use of his faculties, he notices with 
 gratitude in his private religious journal, wherein 
 entries are still made from time to time : 
 
 Hallow ell, February 10*A, 1833. 
 Sabbath afternoon. It is several months since I have 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 75 
 
 written anything in this journal to erect any memento of 
 the manner in which I have spent the transitory hours of my 
 existence. Of course some change must have taken place in 
 my character since the last date. Whether for the better or 
 worse remains to be said. In a spiritual sense, I have not 
 made that decided improvement which ought always to be 
 manifest. I can hardly tell whether I have retrograded or 
 advanced. There is not that vigor and earnestness in my 
 devotional exercises with which they ought always to be cha 
 racterized ; and there is not that exemplary walk and conver 
 sation which ought always to accompany a Christian profes 
 sion, and which will always render conspicuous a devoted dis 
 ciple of our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 I have made, to be sure, some progress in intellectual pur 
 suits, and in the discipline of my mind. But of what avail 
 is this with God, unless, together with it, there is a resolution, 
 and a fulfilment of the resolution, to devote and consecrate 
 all my powers, both of body and mind, to the service and 
 glory of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. I do feel that 
 there is no other object really worth living for, than the 
 glory of God and the promotion of the Redeemer s kingdom. 
 And by the grace of the Holy Spirit, and his powerful assist 
 ance, I will ; and I hereby do resolve to live more according to 
 the will of God, and not according to the will of the flesh 
 that constant foe to all spirituality. 
 
 If I would win, I must fight ; if I would obtain that 
 " crown of glory, which fadeth not away, eternal in the 
 heavens," I must strive for it ; I must do violence to myself ; 
 must despise the light and insignificant objects of the world, 
 for which the majority of its inhabitants are vainly striving, 
 and make it the supreme and ruling object of my existence to 
 obtain that which is incorruptible ; and to attain this, I must 
 sacrifice all inferior objects, which in any way interfere with 
 its attainment. " The kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, 
 and the violent taketh it by force." " Must I be carried to 
 
76 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 the sides on flowery beds of ease? 1 No! And if! ever 
 mean to realize that blessedness which they only experience 
 who have overcome, and have " washed their robes, and 
 made them white in the blood of the Lamb," I must 
 break up these habits of spiritual sloth and inactivity, and 
 fight, not uncertainly, as one that beateth the air. Let me 
 be up, and strive and watch unto prayer, that for me to 
 live it may be Christ, and to die gain. Help me to do this, 
 Lord. 
 
 March 31s, Sabbath afternoon. It seems hardly possible 
 that I can be seventeen years of age. Six anniversaries of 
 my birth have come and gone, and still found me under the 
 influence of disease. I am still oppressed with a weight of 
 bodily infirmity which paralyzes my activity, and prostrates 
 my physical energy continually. But the language of my 
 heart should still be : " The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken 
 away, blessed be the name of the Lord." 
 
 Though my birth-day has found me in a feeble state of 
 bodily health, yet, since my last, I have been able to study 
 more than in any year since I have been sick. This is a 
 great mercy, and I would joyfully record it as such. I have 
 much to lament in reviewing my life the past year. Have 
 not set that holy example to them that are without, and to all 
 about me, which it is manifestly my duty to do. But the 
 only real good which a retrospection can do is to warn me to 
 do better for the future. 
 
 April I4th, 1833, Sabbath afternoon. Have enjoyed con 
 siderable freedom in prayer to-day. My feelings do not seem 
 to be in a very excitable state. But I think I may say, I 
 have as firm and unchangeable an interest in the cause of 
 my Redeemer as at any period of my religious experience. 
 But I shall not look much at past emotions and alter 
 nations of feeling ; for, as Henry Martyn said, " It may rot 
 in my hand." I feel an earnest determination to serve the 
 Lord through evil report and through good report ; but I do 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVEK, M.D. TY 
 
 not have those lively views of my Saviour, and of his unut 
 terable love, which I might enjoy. 
 
 August 1 [tk. Nearly three months have elapsed since I 
 last wrote. My bodily health has, for the greater part of the 
 time, been very feeble. I do not know that there is much 
 prospect of my final restoration to firm health. I have so 
 long hoped, and expected a recovery, and as often been dis 
 appointed, that it seems now almost u hope against hope." 
 I have, for three months past, been trying the effect of living 
 without animal food, tea, and coffee. It reduced my strength 
 at first very much, but I have now got accustomed to it. 1 
 do not think I have been much better for it. My strength is 
 not so great as it used to be on my former diet. My health 
 is more feeble this summer, on the whole, than it was last. 
 But whatever may be the event of this trial, I hope to be re 
 signed to it. " Pleasing or painful, dark or bright, as best 
 may seem to thee." 
 
 I intend to go somewhat on Mr. Abbott s plan of a journal, 
 which he recommends in his Young Christian make it in 
 some measure a mental as well as a spiritual exercise. I am 
 reading attentively Smellie s Natural Philosophy. Have ad 
 vanced to the one hundred and second page. Read a few 
 pages in the afternoon, and find it very interesting and in 
 structive. Am also reading Johnson s Lives of the Poets, 
 which 1 have been about these six months. But in the mean 
 time, have read some other books, and had the Lives as a stand 
 by. Have got as far as Pope s life, which I am now reading. 
 
 September 2d, 1833. Have enjoyed reading the Bible and 
 prayer. Oh ! that I might be enabled henceforward to live 
 no longer according to the course of this world, but accord 
 ing to my covenant engagements, and to the plain directions 
 of the gospel. My covenant engagements ! how have I vio 
 lated them ! Indeed, how would an impartial observer 
 know that I was under any such obligations. I was pleased 
 with a part of a sentence the other day, that it is possible 
 
78 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 not to be conformed to this world in many things, and, at 
 the same time, " not to be transformed by the renewing of 
 our mind." I am not conformed to the world in many 
 things ; but what very decided evidence do I furnish to the 
 world around me of being a disciple of the meek and lowly 
 Jesus ? But meagre evidence, indeed evidence which would 
 hardly outweigh the numberless deficiencies that everywhere 
 appear. 
 
 Resolutions which I have made, have hitherto been carried 
 into effect with so little energy, that it seems almost like 
 adding new guilt to make any new ones ; but having lately 
 had experience of the bitterness and malignity of sin, and 
 prayed earnestly to the Lord for deliverance from it, and for 
 strength to resist temptation, I do hereby, in general, resolve, 
 to live nearer to God, to maintain a constant sense of his 
 presence, and of my dependence upon him and duty to him. 
 In particular, to aim at constant purity of life and conversa 
 tion, thought, word, and deed. To be careful how unwarrant 
 ably and unnecessarily I say or do anything which may be 
 in any way construed to the injury of others. To fix my 
 thoughts more upon God, and exercise a more lively gratitude 
 to him upon first awaking in the morning. To be as eco 
 nomical as possible of my time, and try to improve it all in a 
 profitable and useful manner. To think of, and try to imitate 
 the life of my adorable Saviour. To meditate much upon his 
 infinite sufferings and death, and therefrom upon the awful 
 guilt, malignity, and vileness of sin. Always to perform duty 
 whenever it appears to be such, with humble obedience and 
 fidelity. To be temperate and strive for the mastery in all 
 things. And thou, Holy Spirit, who art the author of all 
 filial and acceptable obedience, help me to do all these, and 
 more also, yea, all which it is my duty to do, and to do it with 
 joy and delight. Amen. 
 
 October 13A, 1833. Have solemnly renewed my covenant 
 with Grod. I trust it is by the influence of the Holy Spirit 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEB, M.D. 79 
 
 that I first made it, and that I have now renewed it ; and may 
 he help me to live and die according to the tenor of this 
 solemn engagement once made and twice or more renewed. 
 I have enjoyed this Sabbath very much. I hope it is the be 
 ginning of good things to my soul ; the commencement of a 
 course of holy living, which may be pursued and continued 
 till it terminates hore in a holy and triumphant death ; after 
 which this spiritual life, begun and persevered in to the close 
 of this mortal career, shall be carried on in that heavenly 
 state, where nothing shall enter "which in any wise defileth, or 
 worketh abomination, or maketh a lie ;" where those who are 
 so inconceivably happy as to attain to that blessed state, will 
 enjoy the company of angels, and patriarchs, and apostles, 
 and martyrs, who have sealed their testimony to the truth with 
 their own blood, and of the spirits of the just made perfect. 
 
 There shall the clouds of sense and sin be forever dissipated. 
 There shall be no need of the sun, neither of the moon to 
 .shine in it ; for the glory of God shall lighten it, and the Lamb 
 shall be the light thereof. We shall have left behind us all 
 our sorrows and imperfections, and sinful inclinations, in the 
 grave which receives our bodies ; they shall not rise at the 
 resurrection with our bodies, but there shall they remain to 
 all eternity. There shall our intellects be expanded to a degree 
 now almost inconceivable to our finite minds. There we 
 shall dwell forever in the ineffable light of God s countenance, 
 and sing forever that rapturous song, " Blessing and honor, 
 and glory, and power be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, 
 and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever." Baxter, indeed, truly 
 says, " Oh ! blessed state of rest, where the inhabitants rest 
 not day nor night saying, Holy, holy, holy Lord God Al 
 mighty, which was, and is, and is to come." May I, through 
 the infinite mercy of God, and the grace of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, be at last ad 
 mitted to the unutterable fruition of that blessed world. 
 Amen. 
 
80 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 November 15A, 1833. This day three years did I solemnly 
 and unreservedly dedicate myself to the Lord, to be his for 
 time and eternity. I have, most surely, on my own part, 
 forfeited all the blessings of this covenant by my wilful trans 
 gressions and wanderings from God. But let me, oh ! let me 
 adore the matchless love which still invites me to come and 
 subscribe with my own hand unto the Lord ; that I am on 
 praying ground ; that I am not, where I so truly deserve to be 
 in the world of despair. And I would this day, oh! Lord, 
 show unto thee my gratitude for thy infinite love, by giving 
 myself again away to thee by a new and living covenant, well 
 ordered in all things and sure. And help me to do so with 
 all sincerity and solemnity. 
 
 It is to "be remarked here, that, for a long period of 
 years, he was in the habit of keeping the anniversary 
 of his dedication as a day of fasting and prayer ; which 
 habit he found of signal benefit in the process of self- 
 mortification and inurement of his soul to the Divine 
 life. This chapter of the memorials of youth has car 
 ried him on to sanguine seventeen. That the reader 
 may be informed more particularly respecting the 
 pursuits, studies, and intellectual progress of that year, 
 we add certain portions of a letter written at this time 
 to his eldest brother. 
 
 When some time since I arranged, in chronological order, 
 the letters I have received from various persons, I found how 
 largely you are my creditor in this respect, so much so that I 
 shall in the outset be compelled to declare myself insolvent 
 as to ever returning the full value of your inestimable epis 
 tles. Though, possibly, I may repay in " full tale," as to 
 actual number, yet the comparative baseness of my coin will 
 probably always leave me your debtor to a large amount. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 81 
 
 But as long as you appear to have so large a capital, and are 
 so easy a creditor, I shall not stop payment, but shall con 
 sider myself as doing well if I pay only six per cent, interest 
 on the intrinsic value of your epistolary fund. 
 
 Bodily indisposition and disease still continue to paralyze 
 the energies of my physical system, and fetter the purposes 
 of my mind. But niaugre this great affliction, I have un 
 numbered and undeserved mercies, which ought to excite the 
 most sincere gratitude and thankful acknowledgment, and 
 lead to unreserved devotion to their bountiful author. It is, 
 I think, the prevailing disposition of my mind to be uncon 
 ditionally resigned to this and every ordination of his will, 
 " who cannot do but what is just, and must be righteous 
 still." 
 
 You say in your last letter to me, " that you hope I am 
 living in a close walk with God, and praying much for you." 
 As to the first part of the clause, I should come nearer the 
 truth than by any other answer, to say, that I was not ; but 
 as to the latter part, my conscience beareth me witness that 
 " I do not cease to pray for you, that you may walk worthy 
 of the Lord unto all pleasing, being fruitful in every good 
 work, and strengthened with all might according to his glori 
 ous power." You wish me to write a letter telling all about 
 my health and life, and how things are going on within my 
 own soul. 
 
 The last I consider most important, and shall, accordingly, 
 mention it first ; and though I cannot communicate such joy 
 ful intelligence under this head as you would wish, and as I 
 ought to be able to, yet I can sincerely say that I think 
 things are going on more prosperously now than they were 
 some time ago. As to my health, I have said -all, perhaps, 
 that is necessary to say. I study when able, or not obliged 
 to take exercise. 
 
 I am reading in the Greek Reader and Sallust. I admire 
 
 the Greek. Write Greek occasionally, and Latin also. My 
 4* 
 
82 MEMOKIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 studies are very much interrupted by ill health, so that my 
 progress is rather slow. I read considerable. I have, at 
 length, finished the Lives of the Poets. Do you not congra 
 tulate me ? Such an event, I think, truly deserves record. 
 I have fixed a common-place book on Mr. Locke s plan in 
 serted a number of extracts, and think I shall find it very 
 useful. I have begun the elegant edition of Milton you so 
 kindly sent me. My gratitude is most sincere for this, and 
 every other expression of love you have so affectionately sent 
 me. 
 
 Mr. S. seems to wax stronger and stronger. His sermons 
 are truly grand. He preached two last Sabbath, which I 
 wish you could read, from the text, John i. 29 : " Behold the 
 Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world !" I 
 had the happiness of hearing them both. But, oh, the hap 
 piness of seeing always by faith the Lamb of God. Never 
 theless, I will trust him where I cannot trace him, saying with 
 Newton : 
 
 If to Jesus for relief 
 
 My soul has fled by prayer, 
 Why should I give way to grief, 
 
 Or heart-consuming case ? 
 Are not all things in his hands ? 
 Has he not his promise pass d? 
 Will he then regardless stand. 
 
 And let me sink at last ? 
 
 If he shed his precious blood 
 
 To bring me to his fold, 
 Can I think that meaner good 
 
 He ever will withhold ! 
 Satan, vain is thy device ! 
 Here my hope rests well assur d, 
 In that great redemption-price, 
 
 I see the whole secur d. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 83 
 
 CHAPTEK IV. 
 
 WAY-MAKES OF INTELLECTUAL AND MOEAL PEOaEESS. 
 
 Whose high endeavors are an inward light, 
 That makes the path before him always bright ; 
 Who, with a natural instinct to discern. 
 What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn ; 
 Abides by this resolve, and stops not there, 
 But makes his moral being his prime care. 
 
 ANON. 
 
 As we have already seen, the chief concern of the 
 subject of this biography always was, himself to 
 grow in goodness and to be doing good. From an 
 early age, his own moral well-being, and that of his 
 fellows, was evermore his prime care. When, through 
 the grace of God, he was living so as to secure this, 
 he was happy. When, in his daily life, he failed of 
 this, he was unhappy. ]STot with standing that his life 
 hitherto, has been, to an unusual degree, a suffering 
 life, we have found, also, that it has been a happy 
 life, because it has aimed to be a holy life. All truo 
 Christian experience confirms this. 
 
 The truth that in God s Word we find, 
 
 Experience enhances 
 That happiness is in the mind, 
 
 And not in circumstances. 
 
84 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Tis only by a will resigned 
 
 To God, that good advances ; 
 His grace alone within the mind 
 
 Can govern circumstances. 
 
 On the evening of the Lord s day, Nov. 24th, 1833, 
 when confined at his Mother s by illness within doors, 
 we find him making this entry in his private religious 
 journal : 
 
 I have had a pleasant and, I hope, profitable day at home. 
 Since I last wrote, the annual festival of Thanksgiving has 
 been celebrated. Truly, it might well be a Thanksgiving with 
 us. The mercies of God are unspeakably great, and have 
 been for the whole of our lives. Oh ! what ardent, heartfelt, 
 constant gratitude it should excite, that we are all permitted 
 to indulge the blessed hope that we are partakers in the salva 
 tion which Christ has procured by the sacrifice of himself; the 
 hope that the union which now exists on earth shall never be 
 broken, but cemented and perpetuated forever in the heavenly 
 world. Blessed, forever blessed be thy name, Lord, that 
 thou hast thus inclined our hearts to thyself, while others have 
 been left to follow the way of their own hearts. I must strive 
 earnestly against pride and vanity, and, in lowliness of mind, 
 esteem others better than myself. 
 
 December 1st, 1833. I have just finished the " Young 
 Christian." Let me strive that the instruction I have received 
 from this excellent book may be well digested in my mind, 
 and treasured up in my heart, and brought into practice in my 
 life. I must strive for more ardor in prayer, a stronger love 
 to Christ, and a more intense anxiety for immortal souls. I 
 am reading Baxter s Call to the Unconverted." It is a 
 powerful and heart-searching work. I read partly that I may 
 be able to speak of it from actual experience, as I intend to 
 lend it when I have finished it. I must read not only for 
 intellectual pleasure, but for spiritual improvement. 
 
M.D. 85 
 
 This is the first day of the last month of the year. How 
 swiftly time flies ! Lord, help me to be diligently preparing 
 myself for a blissful eternity ; to be daily living that spiritual 
 life, which must be begun on earth in order to be enjoyed in 
 heaven. Let me spend this month in such a manner, live in 
 such intimate communion with God, and fellowship with the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, that I shall gain an impetus which shall 
 be felt through the coming year. 
 
 December 2lst. Sabbath afternoon. Have been detained 
 from public service, both on account of illness and a snow 
 storm. Have been engaged in reading the Bible, Baxter s 
 Call, and prayer. May I, the coming year, be more holy and 
 exemplary in my daily walk, conversation, and deportment, 
 than I have ever yet been, and accomplish more mental labor 
 than any year has before witnessed. My pride and vanity, of 
 late, have been very prominent. What unbecoming sins they 
 are ! that such a worm as I should exalt myself in my own 
 esteem ; how unbefitting ! How much more rational and bc- 
 cominor the lowliness of mind to regard all others as better 
 
 O O 
 
 than myself. Let me so do, and strive continually against 
 these besetting sins. 
 
 Sabbath afternoon, January 5th, 1834. This is Commu 
 nion Sabbath, and the third anniversary of my solemn profes 
 sion of my faith in Christ, and public union with the church. 
 It is an interesting day, and I wished very much to attend its 
 solemn services, but I have enjoyed the day at home in read 
 ing and prayer, and renewing my covenant with God. 
 
 I still continue to be afflicted with disease of body, and Grod 
 only knows whether I shall ever be free from it. I rejoice to 
 leave it with Him ; the Judge of all the earth cannot but do 
 right. I want to have stronger, more irrepressible desires for 
 the conversion of immortal souls. Oh! that there might be a 
 powerful revival of pure and undefiled religion in this place, 
 that thousands, yea, thousands might here be awakened from 
 the lethargy of sin, and born into the kingdom of holiness and 
 
00 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 of God. Lord, in mercy pour out thy Spirit, and awaken 
 thine own people to more earnest and persevering prayer, and 
 faithful effort for the salvation of perishing souls. And help 
 me to set such an example, and perform my duty so faithfully, 
 as will tend to promote this blessed end. 
 
 January 2Qth, Sabbath evening. I am often detained from 
 meeting with the people of God, but, oh ! that I might make 
 an improving, edifying use of the eminent opportunities and 
 privileges I so abundantly, but undeservedly enjoy at home. 
 
 1 have not improved as I ought the affliction which Grod still 
 sees fit to continue upon me, doubtless for my best good. 
 Yes, I am still oppressed by the heavy hand of disease, and 
 He, who sees this trial, only knows when it will be removed. 
 But one thing do I desire of the Lord ; that will I seek after ; 
 that it may be sanctified unto me Lord, I do beseech thee 
 to make it the instrument of chastening and purifying my 
 heart and life. May it wean me from the world, from every 
 earthly dependence and undue attachment ; dissolve every for 
 bidden tie ; quicken me in the performance of every duty, and 
 make me feel my nearness to eternity, and constant liability 
 to death ; subdue my selfishness ; make me kind, gentle, easy 
 to be entreated, to feel more my entire dependence upon 
 Christ ; and, finally, may it make me holier and better in every 
 possible respect. 
 
 Truly, the evening and morning are witnesses to the tender 
 care and loving kindness of God. I hear the roar and din of 
 the storm, but I do not feel its inclemency. I am protected 
 by a comfortable shelter from the severity of every season 
 Prevented from walking abroad, I have the pleasant society 
 of kind relatives and friends at home ; the Holy Bible to read 
 and ponder upon ; the opportunity to peruse the works of 
 other authors, and, more than all, the blessed privilege of 
 prayer. Oh ! what unspeakable, undeserved goodness and 
 love ! Let these, and all other mercies, Lord, be improved 
 by me in such a manner as they ought, and may I ever re- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEE, M.D. 87 
 
 member that " unto whom much is given, of him will much 
 be required." 
 
 February 16tk, 1834. " Truly, my flesh faileth of fatness, 
 my bones stare upon me." The springs of life and health are 
 constantly drained by the disease which still cleaveth fast to 
 me, and I know not that there is any well-grounded hope that 
 I shall ever be delivered from its power; but that innate prin 
 ciple of hope, which so tenaciously holds its place in the human 
 breast, still lingers in miue. Yet I hope I am prepared by 
 the grace of God for the worst, let it be what it may. Oh ! 
 that I may be purified in the furnace of affliction, as gold tried 
 in the fire. If the vile dross of sin which debases my soul 
 could be burnt away, it would be worth while to suffer vastly 
 more than I have endured, for the attainment of such an end. 
 
 This period and the ensuing summer were a season of 
 uncommon feebleness and pining under disease. It be 
 gan to be clear that the powers of life were waning, and 
 that constitutional treatment, of a different kind from 
 that adopted hitherto, must be resorted to, if we would 
 not lose entirely our "brightest household flower." 
 In the summer of 1834 he travelled by private convey 
 ance, with his eldest brother, through the Is otch of the 
 White Mountains to Saratoga Springs. But the ex 
 periment was without benefit to his health, and he 
 returned drooping after a suffering summer. 
 
 The first entry in his Journal after his return to his 
 native Kennebec, is in October 26th, 1834. 
 
 During the last four months I have been in company with 
 my dear brother George to Saratoga Springs, and after a 
 residence there of about five weeks, we started on our return, 
 and having stopped a few days in Boston, and ten days in 
 Salem, we arrived in safety at our beloved home, having been 
 absent between eleven and twelve weeks. We (and myself 
 
88 MEMOKIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 in particular) were preserved from very many dangers, seen 
 and unseen delivered out of considerable trial and per 
 plexity by the kind and ever-watchful care and guidance 
 of our God. We saw on our journey great and abundant 
 evidence, in the works of nature, of the almighty power, 
 wisdom, and goodness of the Great Architect and Up 
 holder of the universe. I certainly ought to be benefited 
 by the glorious displays of these glorious attributes which I 
 have witnessed. I hope I have learned a little more the 
 meaning of faith in God of trusting in him when things 
 look dark when the way of escape seems to be hedged up, 
 and all expectation of relief must be from Him ; for we were 
 once placed in a situation and circumstances where such faith 
 was required. 
 
 Now that the Lord has so mercifully brought me once more 
 to my native and much-loved home, and permits me to enjoy 
 again the society of my dear Mother and sister, Oh ! may 
 he also give me strength in my soul to love him more and 
 serve him better than I have ever yet done. 
 
 My health is not materially improved by this new expedient 
 for its restoration ; for it does not yet seem to be the Lord s 
 will to restore me to the possession of it ; and until it is his 
 will, I shall not enjoy it perfectly. His holy will be done. 
 " O, my Father, if this cup may not yet pass from me except 
 I drink it, thy will be done." 
 
 Sabbath evening, Nov. \Qth. I yesterday solemnly re 
 newed my covenant with God, being its fourth anniversary. 
 I observed the day by fasting and uncommon prayer. I have 
 experienced unspeakable mercy and goodness at the Lord s 
 hand during the last year. Have been brought safely through 
 much danger and trial, and permitted in circumstances of 
 much comfort and happiness, notwithstanding all my sinful 
 ness and guilt, that might justly have provoked the Lord to 
 the withdrawal of his gracious protection, to behold another 
 of the anniversaries of my covenant engagements with God. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVER, M.D. 1 
 
 The past year is indeed blotted with sin, but I humbly hope I 
 have made some progress heavenward. 
 
 I have had the privilege to-day of hearing two most elevat 
 ing, excellent, and instructive sermons from our beloved pas 
 tor, Mr. Shepard, on the text, 1 Cor. x. 11 : " Now all these 
 things happened unto them for ensamples, and they are writ 
 ten for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are 
 come." He illustrated the course of the Christian in his 
 way to heaven, by the journey of the Israelites from the land 
 of Egypt to that of Canaan. The analogy was most happily 
 carried out, and concluded by practical remarks to impenitent 
 binners and to Christians. These sermons were indeed a rich 
 spiritual feast, and ought to be improved to the growth in 
 grace, and edification of the professed disciples of Christ. 
 May these instructions be blessed to me, and I be assisted by 
 the strength of the Holy Spirit in my pilgrimage to the 
 heavenly Canaan, to resist all the temptations of the Great 
 Adversary of souls, and get safely through all the snares and 
 pitfalls which lie in my passage to that blessed land. 
 
 November 23d, 1834, Sabbath afternoon. I have been en 
 gaged principally in reading the Bible, Leighton, and prayer. 
 I have remembered, and tried to repent and be ashamed in 
 view of my past sins and iniquities, for which I hope the Lord 
 is pacified towards me. If the sum of my sins is so great in 
 my sight, what must it be in the sight of an All-seeing God, 
 who can at a glance scan all the sins of my past and present 
 life O f thought, word, and deed ! How wonderful! how in 
 finite is the forbearance and goodness of God towards one who 
 has forfeited, as I have, all claims to his favorable notice. 
 
 I have now no male friend with whom I can converse inti 
 mately upon spiritual, or indeed upon any subjects. My 
 dear brother George being engaged in his pastoral duties at 
 Salem ; H. at Andover, preparing for the gospel ministry ; 
 and Mr. Goodwin, also, who was for two years a member of 
 our family, at the same place pursuing his theological studies 
 
90 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 I am indeed quite alone in this respect. But do thou, O 
 blessed Saviour, compensate, and more than compensate for 
 this deprivation of the society of earthly friends, by the abun 
 dant, cheering manifestations of thy presence and love. 0, 
 swallow up my soul in thy love, and manifest thyself unto me 
 as thou dost not unto the world, and transform me more and 
 more into thine own image ; thus shall I enjoy happiness 
 which it is in the power of no earthly friend to impart. 
 
 December 1th. I am endeavoring to know the will of the 
 Lord in regard to the adoption and success of another expe 
 dient for the restoration of my health, namely, a voyage to, 
 and residence for some time at Malaga, in the south of Spain. 
 Dr. Hubbard, a skilful physician of this place, thinks such a 
 measure might be crowned with success. But, surely, I do 
 not desire to spend any more time in the adoption and fruitless 
 pursuit of measures for the improvement or recovery of my 
 health. It seems better, if this blessing is denied me, so long 
 as I continue a tenant of this body (if thus it seemeth good to 
 the Lord), to remain in my own country ; cultivate, as far as 
 the state of my feeble tabernacle permits, the faculties of my 
 mind ; do what good I can ; enjoy, during the attacks of my 
 disorder, the kiud offices of my beloved Mother and sister, and 
 their endearing society ; and when the time arrives for the 
 separation of this immortal soul from its frail and mortal com 
 panion, to die among my own kindred, and leave this body to 
 return to the dust as it was, but with the blessed hope of a 
 happy reunion with it on the morning of the resurrection, 
 when " this mortal shall put on immortality, and this corrup 
 tion incorruption." 
 
 But, oh ! that it might be the will of the Lord to bless 
 these means to the perfect restoration of my health ; that then, 
 by his grace and blessing, I might prepare for the Grospel 
 ministry, and be the humble instrument of saving souls. To 
 thee, Lord, do I leave it ; if it be thy will to bless this 
 measure, open the way for its adoption, and manifest thy will 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 91 
 
 by the indications of thy Providence too clearly to be mis 
 taken. I would "acknowledge thee in all my ways, and do 
 thou direct my steps." 
 
 In tins connection a letter is in place to the brother 
 next his own age, in the course of which he says : 
 
 Notwithstanding all the expedients I have resorted to, the 
 Lord, in his infinite wisdom, still sees fit to withhold from me 
 that most invaluable of temporal blessings, sound health. But 
 I think I can adopt the language of our blessed Saviour when 
 he prayed in Gethsemane : " my Father, if this cup may not 
 pass away from me except I drink it, thy will be done." " His 
 will, whate er it be, is best." 
 
 He knows best the way to the heavenly Canaan, and if he 
 sees fit that with me it should lie through much affliction, be 
 it so ; the rest and bliss of that blessed world, of which, through 
 the grace and atoning merits of Christ, my Saviour, I humbly 
 hope to be made a partaker, will not be the less sweet for 
 having met with some tribulation on the way. We are, and 
 ought to feel that we are, but strangers and pilgrims here 
 below, and it will be but a little while ere we shall all be re 
 moved from this world. may it be, with all of us, " to a 
 city not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." 
 
 I am glad you have been examining and striving to know 
 your own heart, and I hope you are now able to give to your 
 own conscience, and " to him that asketh of you, a reason for 
 the hope which is in you with meekness and fear." I believe 
 George once remarked, in a sermon, something to this pur 
 pose : that we know not the nest of vipers within our own 
 bosoms, until we reached down and attempted to grapple with 
 them. When we do this, we find that we have indeed a war 
 fare, and a severe one, too, to conquer the lusts and passions 
 of our own souls. But, dear Henry, we are not alone in the 
 warfare ; Jesus, our great High Priest, " who is moved with 
 
92 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 a feeling for our infirmities," is our Almighty Helper, and the 
 more manfully we strive, so much the more will he exert his 
 power in our behalf. Let us fly to him, make him our all in 
 all, and, as Mr. Shepard directed, in one of two most rich, 
 instructive sermons we had from him last Sabbath, take and 
 keep hold of his hand with the same timidity and confidence 
 with which a child, in the midst of a dark and tangled forest, 
 surrounded by wild beasts, retains close hold of its father s 
 hand. 
 
 You maybe well assured, dear brother, that day and night, 
 I cease not to pray for you, that you may be enabled to profit 
 eminently, both in mind and heart, by the great opportuni 
 ties for spiritual and intellectual improvement which you enjoy. 
 We feel the absence of yourself and George, together with 
 the final departure of Mr. Goodwin, very much, and as I now 
 have no brother-friend with whom to commune, it is not sur 
 prising that I sometimes have a feeling of dreariness, which 
 weighs somewhat on my spirits ; but there is a friend that 
 sticketh closer than a brother a resort to whom is not con 
 fined to time or place, the consolations of whose love and 
 presence I think I enjoy. 
 
 In the next extract from the private journal, there 
 are allusions to certain occurrences in Salem, Mass., 
 which being matter of public notoriety in connection 
 with THE DREAM entitled INQUIRE AT AMOS GILES 
 DISTILLERY, we have not thought it suitable to sup 
 press. 
 
 Hallowell, March Sth, 1835. 
 
 Since I last wrote, we, as a family, have passed through a 
 trial of our faith and patience, though not without the hope of 
 its being productive of great good. On Monday, February 
 9th, we received a letter from my dear brother George, writ 
 ten in an astonishingly calm and undisturbed manner, but 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 93 
 
 communicating the intelligence that on the day on which he 
 wrote (Saturday, Feb. 7th), he had been attacked in the street 
 with brutal violence. A great excitement was produced in 
 Salem by the publication in the Landmark, of a powerfully- 
 written article, illustrating, with a faithfulness terrible to 
 those concerned in the nefarious business, the agency of the 
 devil in the diabolical process of distillation. George was the 
 author of this piece and it gave so much umbrage to the 
 foreman of the distillery, that he endeavored to avenge him 
 self by a most savage attack upon my dear brother s person ; 
 but God most mercifully preserved him from serious injury ; 
 and, which should be matter of everlasting gratitude, enabled 
 him, in such exciting circumstances, to show, in a wonderful 
 manner, the spirit of his heavenly Master, by patiently en 
 during the outrage, and meekly bestowing his own forgive 
 ness, and hoping for that of God upon his cruel enemy. 
 
 The offensive article has been extensively copied into the 
 newspapers, religious and political, and has a very wide cir 
 culation, and we hope will be instrumental of doing much 
 good. It has awakened his own church to more earnestness 
 in prayer and faithfulness in the cause of Christ. It cer 
 tainly has caused us to pray with uncommon fervor and im 
 portunity for dear George. Oh, may it lead us to feel more 
 entirely the utter uncertainty of all earthly things of all 
 human dependencies. 
 
 SaUath afternoon, March 2th, 1835. My birth-day. By 
 the undeserved mercy of God, I am this day permitted to 
 complete my nineteenth year. It finds me still oppressed 
 with that most perseveringly obstinate disorder the asthma 
 under the influence of which, more or less severe, the light 
 of each successive anniversary of my birth for six years has 
 found me suffering. I have had a comfortable day at home. 
 This afternoon have renewed my covenant with God with sin 
 cerity, I trust, and a humble desire to fulfil its solemn re 
 quirements. God seems hitherto to have called me to suffer 
 
94: MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 patiently and resignedly his will, rather than to do it by any 
 active service. Blessed be his name, I think I can say, " It 
 is well ; thy will be done." 
 
 It is possible another birth-day I may be at Malaga. I 
 still think seriously of taking a voyage, and do most earnestly 
 desire that God would manifest by his providence, what is his 
 will in regard to it ; and whether it be to bless it to my re 
 covery, or to the material benefit of my health. If I should 
 go to Malaga, my temptations would be much increased, and, 
 consequently, my need for watchfulness and prayer. But I 
 hope, by the grace of Christ, that as my day, so shall my 
 strength be. To his disposal I desire to submit all events, 
 and all the different, and, perhaps, trying circumstances 
 which the course of another year may place me in. Last 
 Sabbath, I finished the reading Leighton s Select Works, com 
 piled by my dear brother George ; and what a rich mine of 
 thought and instruction is therein contained. Great weight is 
 added to the writings of this holy man, by the knowledge 
 that every word he uttered flowed from his own experience 
 of the blessedness of intimate communion with God, and that 
 they are indeed an index of his own eminently spiritual heart 
 and life. 
 
 In a letter to his brother George at this time, not 
 long after the affair at Salem, above referred to, lie 
 says, with characteristic affection : 
 
 I know you will not judge me, or impute it to want of 
 affection, that I have not written you a long letter of conso 
 lation, sympathy, and encouragement, since the outrage upon 
 your person, and the consequent circumstances of excitement 
 and trial in which you have been placed. Mother, in the 
 fulness of her affectionate heart, has expressed the feelings 
 of tender, yearning sympathy which we all had, and also our 
 heartfelt gratitude to God that you were enabled by his 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 95 
 
 grace to conduct in so meek and Christian a manner. But 
 her faith in regard to the good which the piece would do, was 
 never quite so strong as that of Elizabeth and myself ; for we 
 hoped from the beginning that much would result in con 
 sequence of it. It seems to have called forth the talents of 
 many able writers, and to have emboldened the friends of 
 temperance to speak out in a more decided and fearless man 
 ner than they have yet done. That letter in the Worcester 
 Palladium, was a most capital one. I sent you last week the 
 Free Press and Advocate, which had in it the amusing and 
 well-executed parody from the Lowell Pledge. 
 
 Our good Deacon Dole has stood by you firm from the be 
 ginning. He said to me some time since, that " he should 
 like to go halves with you in all the reproach, and in all the 
 good which the piece would occasion." Perhaps you and 
 Henry together may have digested some tangible plan in re 
 gard to our intended voyage. Let us know fully the result 
 of your thoughts, and your mutual deliberations upon the 
 subject. 
 
 An expression of affection received about this time 
 from his brother at Salem, may be properly incorpo 
 rated here, describing, as it does, better than any thing 
 which could be written at this distance of time, both 
 the sufferings and the hopes which led to the deter 
 mination of taking a voyage to the Mediterranean, 
 and trying a residence in the south of Spain. 
 
 TO MY YOUNGEST BROTHER IN CONTINUED SICKNESS. 
 
 Our youngest household flower still fading fast ! 
 Pain seems thy heritage. There was a time, 
 My drooping, patient brother, when thy step 
 (My eyes are filled with tears at the remembrance) 
 Was nimble and elastic as the roe s. 
 Thought scarce was quicker in its untraced speed, 
 
96 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Than all thy life : for thought with thee was motion, 
 Impetuous motion all, wild, fearless, free ! 
 Now, how it pains my soul to see thee move ! 
 So sad, so slow, yet young and beautiful. 
 The earliest dawn in summer found thee then 
 Up and abroad, to greet the glorious sun 
 With thy clear voice, that wakened all the house. 
 Now, nights are wearisome, and fickle sleep, 
 Hard-breathed and laboring, visits thy sad couch- 
 That midnight cough ! How dread its racking sounds ! 
 And morning comes, and the sweet early dews 
 Rise up, like incense, to the new-risen sun, 
 And other inmates are about the house, 
 And the first frugal meal is ready ; but thy face 
 We miss its smile thy cheerful shout of glee. 
 The languid bed detains thee, till thy frame 
 Gathers the rest, night-slumbers could not bring. 
 Two years, long painful years of sickness gone ! 
 The rose no more is on thy cheek as wont, 
 And with its fading step, gradual and sad, 
 Has fled the buoyancy and flash of spirit, 
 The joyous and impetuous pulse of soul. 
 It cannot beat in pain as once in health. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Long time ago (four years and more have past) 
 My heart did utter thus the voice of mourning. 
 Oh, my loved brother, dearer for thy calm 
 And patient suffering of these years of pain ! 
 Sorrow is stirred afresh to mind the bud 
 In youth so perfect, checked in its sweet growth ; 
 The rose denied to bloom, the fruit to ripen ; 
 Yet shedding forth such fragrance to the air, 
 As makes the sad beholder pause and wonder. 
 
 Thy growing frame subdued by strong disease ; 
 Thy youth forbid to open into manhood ; 
 Thy thirst for knowledge thou couldst not indulge ; 
 Plans fondly formed for health that would not come, 
 And remedies but tried to show how vain, 
 And, season after season, hopes deferred 
 Alas ! how can they but subdue thy spirit ! 
 
 Yet look away where all is bright in Christ ! 
 Nor let affliction chase the natural smile 
 
OF NATHANIEL CI1EEVMJ, M.D. 97 
 
 That always cheered all hearts, and used to show 
 Life s gloomiest clouds illumed with rainbow colors. 
 Dear brother ! Not unkindly does the Lord 
 Weaken thy strength, but all in utmost love 
 And perfect wisdom, keeps thee suffering still. 
 Then faint not, though thou be chastised of him ; 
 For love is breathed in every pain continued, 
 And all things are attempered for thy good. 
 Twill be made clear hereafter, and perhaps 
 Thy scene of trial, e en on earth, may issue 
 Brightly, and in the ministry of Christ ! 
 Oh, blessed hope ! If such should be his plan, 
 How sweet a lot were thine, my patient brother ! 
 Whether it be or not, Irust thou in Christ, 
 . And praise him for the healing of thy soul, 
 And for that grace, which, out of earthly ill. 
 Draws forth the soul s most precious medicines. 
 To him my heart commends thee ; may his love 
 Still sweeten all thy trials, shining so, 
 And giving grace to bear them, that thy life 
 May pass serenely, hid with Christ in God. 
 His glorious body is the form divine, 
 Thine shall assume in heaven. When he appears 
 Thou also shalt appear with him in glory. 
 SALEM, MASS., APRIL 23RD, 1835. 
 
 Consequent upon this, and responsive to the same- 
 was the following letter : 
 
 MOST DEARLY BELOVED BROTHER. Your sympathizing 
 and deeply interesting letter, received this morning, has so 
 thoroughly stirred up within me the full fountains of fraternal 
 love, that I have determined to let their streams flow out to 
 wards you in the delightful channel of epistolary communication. 
 For the tender, touching, affectionate poetry, I do most sin 
 cerely thank you. It may, indeed, make me feel sad to com 
 pare my present hodily weakness, and the shattering effects 
 of a long-continued and distressing disorder, with my former 
 abundant and uninterrupted flow of health and vigor, and that 
 seven anniversaries of my birth have found me under its in- 
 5 
 
98 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 fluence ; but still I would say with the faith of the Shuna- 
 mitess, " It is well," and desire to refer the disposition of all 
 events to him who " doeth all things well," and has always 
 mingled with my cup of affliction so many alleviations, and 
 such rich and manifold blessings. 
 
 My great desire and prayer is, that whether it issues in life 
 or in death, it may be sanctified to my growth in grace, and 
 greater fitness for those blessed mansions of rest which sin, 
 disease, and death shall never invade. How blessed should I 
 be, if, after all the suffering our heavenly Father has no 
 doubt in kindness laid upon me, this trial, as you say, should 
 " issue in the ministry of Christ!" This is, indeed, a con 
 summation most devoutly to be wished ; and it is not an im 
 possible one. If God should bless to the perfect restoration 
 of my health, the voyage to, and residence at Malaga, such may 
 yet, by his approving blessing, and the gifts and graces of 
 his Spirit, be my great happiness to enjoy. 
 
 We earnestly long to see you, and hope it may be but a lit 
 tle while ere we shall be gratified by beholding and speaking 
 with you face to face. Come as soon as you can, though you 
 are able to stay but a few days ; for we all feel anxious to be 
 together once more before Henry and myself leave. With 
 more love than language can express, I am your truly affec 
 tionate and grateful brother. 
 
 The religious journal here supplies a leaf of auto 
 biography, dated, 
 
 Sunday afternoon, April 19^, 1835. I believe this is the 
 sixth or seventh Sabbath in succession that I have been de 
 tained from public worship, principally on account of my 
 feeble health. My fleshly tabernacle seems indeed frail, and 
 sometimes tending towards its dissolution. It is uncertain 
 now whether I have sufficient health to undertake a voyage, 
 though it may be that with the commencement of warm, 
 pleasant weather, it will be somewhat improved. I do not 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 99 
 
 feel that triumphant joy and ecstasy in view of death, which, 
 as a disciple of Christ, it is my privilege to enjoy. 
 
 Sabbath evening, April 2Qth. I have spent the day in 
 reading the Bible, prayer, and some other reading. I have 
 begun a volume of the Select Practical Theology of the Seven 
 teenth Century, containing, " Howe on the Blessedness of the 
 Righteous," and " Bates Discourses on the four last things, 
 Death, Judgment, Heaven, Hell." In reading Howe, it re 
 quires a good deal of attention to understand his meaning ; 
 but he is rich in thought, which it is worth the while to be at 
 considerable trouble to find out. My dear brother H is now 
 with me, and I must strive to set such an example before him, 
 as will at least not retard, but may accelerate his progress 
 heavenward. I have had a comfortable, pleasant day at 
 home, though I have not had that deep brokenness of heart 
 and penitential sorrow which the remembrance of my own 
 sins, and the amazing love of Jesus, my Saviour, ought to 
 excite. How sweet is the name of Jesus to a believer ! 
 
 May \lth. It is now most probable if my health continues 
 tolerably good, and things are favorable, that in company with 
 my dear brother H I shall go on a voyage to Malaga. This 
 is a great undertaking, and I desire not to enter upon it 
 without the blessing of God ; but surely, if I ever made any 
 thing a subject of prayer, I have this, and of much and sin 
 cere prayer. I hope, by the divine blessing, it may be made 
 efficacious to my perfect restoration to health. Oh, that the 
 Lord would graciously permit me to return, and count mo 
 worthy, after due preparation, to preach the everlasting gos 
 pel. Thou hast chosen, O Lord, the weak things of the 
 world to confound the mighty. Oh ! choose me, weak and 
 sinful as I am, to be an instrument of salvation to many im 
 mortal souls. 
 
 Sabbat/i, morning, June 14^, 1835. I yesterday took an 
 emetic of ipecac, and though much relieved by it, am not 
 able to attend divine service. It is possible that during this 
 
100 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 week we may depart on our way to embark for Malaga. I have 
 an earnest desire, and strong hope that we may be very use 
 ful on board the vessel, and also to the crews of vessels visit 
 ing the port after we arrive there, as I intend, if I can, to get 
 entrusted with a lot of Bibles and Testaments for distribution 
 to seamen and others, if there shall be such who may be des 
 titute, and wish for them ; and, Lord, do thou thus, and 
 by whatever lawful means we may use, make us the blessed 
 instruments of accomplishing thy glorious purposes of mercy 
 and salvation to many souls. 
 
 For my spiritual benefit and assistance, relying upon the 
 gracq.of God for their fulfilment, I make the following reso 
 lutions : First, I will be as strictly regular and punctual in 
 my devotions as I can, consistent with a conscientious con 
 sideration of outward circumstances. Second, I will be kind, 
 amiable, and conciliating, easy to bo entreated, and forgiving 
 in my intercourse with my dear brother, and to all with whom 
 I may meet. I will have three reasons of prayer a day, viz., 
 as early in the morning as possible, at noon, either before or 
 after dinner, and at night. I will try to cultivate at all times 
 a deep sense of the constant presence of God, and frequently 
 commune with him by ejaculatory petitions. We shall not 
 probably enjoy the many delightful religious privileges which 
 we now have as means of growth in grace ; and our temp 
 tations will be much increased, so that we shall have to watch 
 and strive, and pray with increased diligence, resolution, and 
 importunity. If temptations have this effect (and, Lord, 
 may they have it), they will only serve to strengthen and con 
 firm our Christian characters, instead of weakening them. 
 Lord, let all our temptations, distresses, and trials only 
 drive us nearer to thee ; make thy strength perfect in our 
 weakness ; in all our temptations provide a way for our 
 escape ; and trusting in thee, may we be strong, do our duty 
 faithfully, and gain thine approbation and abundant blessing 
 upon our feeble efforts to do good. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 101 
 
 The necessary arrangements for the departure of 
 the beloved invalid were made from a conviction of 
 the necessity of such an expedient. A sea-voyage 
 was yet untried, and seemed the only hopeful remedy 
 remaining. The testimony of several persons finding 
 relief from asthma when at sea, together with the 
 opinion of his physician, that he would derive benefit 
 from a change of climate, induced a strong desire on 
 the part of the patient sufferer to test its efficacy upon 
 himself. The residence of his uncle, George G. Bar- 
 rell, Esq., as United States Consul at Malaga, Spain, 
 decided the voyage for that port, and mitigated, in 
 some measure, the anxiety of friends in view of the 
 undertaking. 
 
 He was also to leave in the care of a beloved 
 brother, under circumstances as favorable as they 
 could be in the absence of health. His uncle was 
 apprised of their intention, and with a generous 
 regard to the comfort of the invalid, had rooms pre 
 pared, and special arrangements made in his house 
 hold for their reception. He became strongly at 
 tached to his young nephew, and interested himself in 
 his behalf as a father in a son. 
 
 The time for the dreaded separation was approach 
 ing ; but for several days previous to his leaving, the 
 extreme weakness of his whole system, his labored 
 breathing and severe cough, made it doubtful whether 
 he would be able to undertake the voyage. His 
 energy of character under such a weight of disease, 
 and resolute determination to go forward, were sur 
 prising, and made him a marvel to his friends at this 
 
102 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 time. It was a painful effort they all made to sup 
 press feeling, and appear cheerful in the presence of 
 the subdued, yet hopeful sufferer. To have so en 
 deared an object of affection one so tenderly cher 
 ished and long watched over removed from a mother s 
 and sister s care, and all the affectionate caresses of 
 home, was a trial to be fully understood only by those 
 who have experienced the same. The Almighty arm 
 was underneath him ; and his sustaining love upheld 
 the home-circle under the pangs of parting, on the 
 morning of June 26th, 1835. 
 
 He regretted the absence of his pastor at this time, 
 yet amid his weakness he wrote an affectionate fare 
 well note to him the evening previous to his leaving. 
 His departure in such feeble health excited an interest 
 in the hearts of many friends, whose sympathy and 
 kindness he gratefully appreciated. Much prayer 
 was made unto God in his behalf. 
 
 His care for those he loved, and desire to assuage 
 their grief as far as possible, was seen in his writing a 
 few lines of encouragement as to his health for his 
 mother and sister, when only four miles on his way, 
 while the stage-coach stopped at Gardiner ; and then, 
 at the close of the day, he penned a cheerful letter 
 from Portland, to assure them of the good effect of 
 the journey thus far, an extract from which here fol 
 lows : 
 
 Portland, Friday P. M., June 26th, 1835. 
 DEAR MOTHER AND SISTER We have just arrived safe 
 at the Elm Tavern, and the first thing I do is to inform you 
 of the Lord s great goodness in so mercifully preserving and 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVEE, M.D. 103 
 
 bringing us so comfortably to the end of our day s journey. 
 I have borne the ride much better than I had reason to ex 
 pect, and am but little fatigued in comparison with what I 
 might have anticipated. I coughed but little in the stage 
 coach, and was not so affected with nausea as to be obliged to 
 ride outside ; indeed, I got along very comfortably, and per 
 haps feel as well now as I should if I had been at home 
 all day. I have breathed quite freely, except when I 
 coughed once or twice as we stopped, and have cause for 
 gratitude that I feel so comfortable as I now do, after the 
 completion of this day s ride, in regard to the effects of which 
 you know we all felt so much anxiety. 1 do beseech you, 
 dear mother and E., not to distress yourselves, or feel too 
 much anxiety on our account. In mercy to myself, I did 
 not experience such keen anguish at parting with you as I 
 expected, and I think not so great as I had felt in antici 
 pation of the separation. Commit and commend us con 
 tinually to God our heavenly Father, who has hitherto sus 
 tained us in all the scenes of affliction and trial which he has 
 laid upon us. I enjoyed much after I got into the coach in 
 doing this : in committing to God each and every one of us, 
 and all our cares and concerns to him who " doeth all things 
 
 O 
 
 well." I must bid you good-bye, though I could write much 
 longer if I had time. May the grace of God keep and bless 
 each one of us continually, is the prayer of your ever affec 
 tionate and dutiful son and brother. 
 
 New York, June 3<M, 1835. 
 
 DEAR MOTHER AND ELIZABETH Preserved again by the 
 unsleeping vigilance of our Almighty Keeper, I am permitted 
 to announce to you our safe arrival in this great city. The 
 goodness of G-od has been great to us every moment since we 
 left you ; everything has been favorable, and everybody kind ; 
 and I have been so comfortably well as to enjoy, in a high 
 degree, except when sea-sick, the novelty and beauty of the 
 
104: MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 various scenes through which we have passed. George ac 
 companied us to the cars. "We left Boston yesterday, A. M., 
 at nine o clock, on the railroad. Our hearts, as brothers, 
 knit together in love, by a common participation in the con 
 stant pleasure of each other s society, now rendered doubly 
 precious and consoling by our separation from those with whom 
 it was our greatest happiness to dwell ; and also, I hope, by a 
 grateful enjoyment of the uninterrupted stream of blessings 
 which I may well say hn? followed us ever since our departure 
 from home. 
 
 As the mail closes at throe o clock, I must express in as 
 short time as possible the overflowing emotions of my heart 
 on the receipt of your sweet, but too feeling letters. You 
 have, no doubt, ere this received the letters I wrote you at 
 Portland and Boston ; and you ought, at the time of writing 
 your letter, to have received a comforting line written at 
 Gardiner, the morning we left, to send by the Hourly. Do 
 not, dear mother and E., I beseech you, do not feel so keenly 
 our absence ; and, at least on the receipt of this letter, let 
 your gratitude to God for his protecting care, and unspeak 
 able kindness to us, swallow up every other emotion of your 
 aching hearts. I must curb the swelling desires and longing 
 emotions of my heart, which would prompt me to fill with 
 love many sheets, and tell you of matters in regard to 
 which you will likewise feel anxious to know. I am able 
 to walk about and view the swarming multitudes, and many 
 new and pleasing objects which meet the eye in the streets of 
 this vast city. 
 
 We turn again to the pages of the Private Journal, 
 wherein we find one entry dated in the great metropo 
 lis of New York, July 1st. 
 
 We started from Hallowell last Friday morning, June 26th. 
 It was a most painful separation, but I was enabled to control 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 105 
 
 my feelugs ; and I think ray keenest feelings have been, and 
 are on at. count of the distress which this parting occasions to 
 my dear Mother and sister. Lord, I beseech thee, sustain 
 them un ler this trial ; may their hearts be kept in perfect 
 peace, being stayed on thee : be thou their strength and 
 refuge, and may they find sweet joy and serenity in calmly 
 committing us and themselves, and all that we have and are, 
 to thy faithful, unceasing care and disposal ; and may we all 
 be entirely willing to be in thy hands, to live or to die ; to be 
 in sickness or in health, adversity or prosperity. And oh, 
 in mercy, sanctify to us abundantly all the discipline and 
 correction which thou laj^est upon us, and permit all at 
 last to meet, purified from all sin, in thy blessed kingdom 
 above. I would say, in the words of a beautiful hymn, " Here 
 I raise my Ebenezer ; Hither, by thine help, I m come." The 
 Lord has been unutterably good and kind to me. O may my 
 heart be improved by it ; his gracious blessing be continued to 
 us, and this undertaking be instrumental for the accomplish 
 ment of the wished-for object of its adoption. 
 
 At Sea, ship Empress, lat. 40 57 North, July 1th. Here 
 I am, the sixth day at sea, having been mercifully permitted 
 to set out on this voyage last Friday morn. There seems to 
 be not one pious soul on board, either among the crew or 
 officers ; but, for this very reason, it becomes us to labor with 
 so much the more ardor, perseverance, and humility, that we 
 may be instrumental of their conversion. Oh for the faith, 
 humility, and tenderness requisite rightly to discharge our 
 duty. Faith we must have, and faith can only be successful. 
 The six men before the mast are colored men, and some of 
 them cannot read; this we are very sorry for, as we have 
 Bibles, Testaments, and Tracts they might have ; but we 
 shall probably let those have a Testament who cannot read, 
 in the hope that they may be able to learn. With gratitude 
 to God, I record the great improvement of my health, which 
 has been mending ever since I left home. 
 5* 
 
106 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 After supper, on Sabbath night, we had prayers on the 
 ship s deck, the crew being present, and dear H. officiating. 
 It was pleasant to hear the word of God and the voice of 
 prayer and praise ascending from our ship to Him " who has 
 made the sea, and the things that are therein," and who, 
 from all places of his dominion, will listen to the voice of 
 humble supplication. My bodily stupor and languor, for a 
 great part of the day, were such as to prevent that holy activity 
 of mind, and high spiritual enjoyment, which it is the blessed 
 privilege of a Christian at all times, but especially on the holy 
 Sabbath, to experience. 
 
 The Atlantic is crossed ; the OLD WORLD lias opened 
 to the gaze of the valetudinarian traveller from the NEW ; 
 the land of battle, chivalry, romance, and song is 
 reached, and this is the first echo from the Pillars of 
 Hercules, at the mouth of the Mediterranean. 
 
 Griffith s Hotel, Gibraltar, July 21th, 1835. . 
 MOST DEAR AND HONORED MOTHER Through the un 
 speakable goodness of God, I arn permitted to address you 
 from this impregnable fortress, under the walls of which we 
 came safely to anchor on Saturday evening, having experi 
 enced, during our whole passage, His constant tender mercy 
 and protection, and arrived here in the uncommonly short 
 time of twenty-two days. The loving-kindness of our heavenly 
 Father is exceeding great and truly affecting, and demands 
 from us all the most fervent acknowledgments and praise. I 
 hope the ardor of your gratitude will not be damped when, 
 reluctantly, and with much sorrow, I am compelled to an 
 nounce that, for several days, I have been afflicted with a 
 renewed attack of my distressing disorder, but hope I am now 
 on the recovery. Was it hardly reasonable to expect that one 
 so deeply rooted and unyieldingly obstinate as my asthma 
 should, by the most favorable means, be at once expelled from 
 my system ? 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVER, M.D. 107 
 
 You will have seen, from the former part of this letter, how 
 entirely the sea voyage has agreed with me, and anything I 
 now say should not tend otherwise than to corroborate that 
 fact ; but, soon after, or about the time of finishing it, the sad, 
 boding symptoms of an ill turn, like birds, ominous of a threat 
 ening storm, began to warn me of its approach, and Thursday 
 night last, the dreaded paroxysm came, and Friday, Saturday, 
 and yesterday, I suffered under its influence ; but I tell you 
 truly, dear Mother, not near so much as I often have under 
 your own painful observation at home. When I am malo^ as 
 they say in Spanish, I cannot write I am well, but I hope to be 
 so ere we arrive at Malaga. We were not able to obtain a per 
 mit to land, and attend church, but had a quiet Sabbath on 
 board, and this morning landed, and were introduced by our 
 Captain to the American Consul, Mr. Sprague, with whom, in 
 compliance with his polite invitation, we dined, and found him 
 self and family very pleasant and hospitable ; his wife being a 
 French lady, speaking herself to her children (of which she 
 has nine intelligent and pretty one-s), and having spoken in 
 her family, no less than three different languages, French, 
 Spanish, and English. We were delighted once more with 
 the sound of a sweet-toned piano, on which one of the daugh 
 ters played some of the beautiful airs we have been wont, with 
 so much pleasure, to hear our dear E. perform. 
 
 We came to this hotel this evening, and both here and at 
 the office on the Mole, where we obtained our permits, it is a 
 most novel and curious spectacle to behold tho motley groups 
 of almost all nations passing and repassing before us. Here, 
 the outcast son of Israel, and the turbaned Moor ejected from 
 their former possessions, both with their flowing beards and 
 bare legs ; and in another place the Spaniard, with his brown 
 complexion and peaked hat, together with Greeks, Genoese, 
 and the soldiers of the garrison, all in their different costumes ; 
 the English citizens, Americans, and other Europeans dressed 
 in our own style, and many other varieties which might be 
 
108 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 mentioned, make up such a singular and grotesque ensemble as 
 could hardly be witnessed in any other place on the continent, 
 if, indeed, in the world. 
 
 The confused gabble of this mingled, heterogeneous throng 
 is about as amusing to the ear, as to the eye the different 
 fashion of their piebald garments. I must defer a description 
 of the natural and artificial wonders of this singularly situated 
 place, with its various peculiarities of appearance, until I have 
 more time and room, and have surveyed them, as I hope to 
 do, with more minute attention ; and I shall not forget to 
 obtain, if I can, a good-sized piece of the famous rock of Gib 
 raltar, for our mineralogical and botanical friend, Mrs. A., 
 whose kindness in sending the preserves I equally feel as 
 though they had come in season to benefit us. 
 
 Two days later than the letter, lie writes from the 
 same place in his journal. The extract evinces the 
 Christian temper with which lie still bore his se 
 vere trial, and indicat.es the secret refreshings from 
 above that repaired his strength and upheld his faint 
 ing spirits, when otherwise they would have been sure 
 to droop. 
 
 Gibraltar, July 29th, 1835. 
 
 Here am I, in a land of strangers and foreigners, three or 
 four thousand miles from my own beloved kindred and home, 
 the breadth of the mighty Atlantic intervening between us ; 
 but here, also, as at home, the goodness and mercy of our 
 God is seen, and here, as there, we may praise him for his 
 loving kindness. 
 
 Dear H. is kindly mitigating, by his assiduous attentions, 
 the distress of my still obstinate complaint, and I have the 
 unspeakable privilege of prayer, a throne of mercy and grace, 
 to which I may at all times freely resort. what a precious, 
 unutterably precious blessing this is, to have God for our 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 109 
 
 friend, and to be able to implore his grace and assistance. Let 
 us be where we may, in whatever situation or circumstances, 
 sailing upon the ocean or travelling upon the land, by the 
 way-side or at home, no hindrances, if we have the spirit of 
 prayer, can prevent us drawing from its use wisdom and spirit 
 ual might, to go on our way rejoicing. 
 
 We have found, ever since we left home, much sweet con 
 solation in social prayer ; in unitedly committing ourselves and 
 those most dear to us, from whom we are now so widely sepa 
 rated, and the temporal and eternal interests of all, to Him 
 who, I trust, through the atoning merits and grace of Jesus, 
 our blessed Redeemer, is our covenant Grod and Father, able 
 to keep both them and us, and to do for us all more abund 
 antly than we could ask or even think. It is, truly, a most 
 trying dispensation, to be afflicted, just as I get to land, and 
 when I wish to be particularly well, with a distressing return 
 of my disorder, that disables me, in a great measure, from 
 doing as I wish to ; but I think I feel no disposition to mur 
 mur, and believe, though it may seem the contrary, that it is 
 intended for my best good. 
 
 We close this chapter with a record found in the 
 Private Journal, on arriving at the city of Malaga, in 
 the south of Spain. 
 
 In Quarantine, off Malaga Mole, August 2d, 1835. 
 How great should be our gratitude to God in thus happily 
 terminating our voyage, and so much sooner than we expected, 
 having met with no accident or disaster during its whole 
 course. " for grace our hearts to soften ; teach us, Lord, 
 at length to love" and serve thee as we ought, and take entire 
 possession of our hearts. " Here, Lord, I give myself away." 
 I would renew the consecration of myself to thee, and be 
 thine for time and eternity. grant me thy grace to show 
 myself thus in the new situation and circumstances of tempta- 
 
110 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 tion wherein I shall now be placed, and make it abundantly 
 sufficient for me. 
 
 We left quite a large number of Tracts with the soldiers in 
 the garrison at Gibraltar, and were cheered to find some among 
 them who appear to be the soldiers of Christ. It was refresh 
 ing to meet with a few who seemed to speak the language of 
 Heaven, and they also seemed much gratified by seeing some, 
 even strangers, who care for their souls, having truly, as they 
 say, many temptations to encounter. O may these blessed 
 messengers of salvation be blessed to the turning of many 
 from sin unto holiness, and the power of Satan unto God. 
 They will probably be read by a large number, as they were 
 left at the guard houses, and the men are continually changing 
 their stations, and all, in the course of a short time, serve as 
 sentinels. O Holy Spirit, accompany their perusal with thy 
 mighty energy, and from this seed may a rich harvest of souls 
 be gathered in. Though I live not to see it, nor ever am 
 able to sow again as I would, may the little I have done for 
 God s glory be made into a large blessing. And in the mul 
 titude of my thoughts within me, may thy comforts delight 
 my soul. 
 
 "Although affliction smites my heart, 
 
 And earthly pleasures flee, 
 There is one bliss that ne er shall part 
 
 My joy. God, in thee. 
 That joy is like the orb of day, 
 
 When clouds its track pursue ; 
 The shades and darkness throng its way, 
 
 But sunlight struggles through. 
 Oh Thou, my everlasting light, 
 
 On whom my hopes rely ; 
 With Thee the darkest path is bright, 
 
 And fears and sorrows die." 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. Ill 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 LIFE AND OBSERVATIONS AT GIBRALTAR, MALAGA, AND 
 MARSEILLES. 
 
 The world is but a walk of pain, 
 
 That has only end with death ; 
 
 Life is war, in which we gain 
 
 Conquest by the loss of breath. 
 Who would not warfare end, and trials cease, 
 To live at home in rest, and rest at home in peace. 
 
 ARTHUR WARWICK. 
 
 THE journal and letters which we now open, are 
 naturally more occupied with the outer than with the 
 inner life of their author, and with his descriptions 
 of things seen, and his observations thereupon for his 
 own use, and that of his friends. His journal, while 
 abroad, was dedicated to his sister, and it is written 
 in a clear hand, with great care and accuracy. Al 
 though exceedingly hampered, repressed, and abso 
 lutely disabled by his disease, he was unwilling to let 
 anything of interest which he saw and took cognizance 
 of, pass undescribed. And his notes of events, and 
 of passing scenes, and of all he surveyed, are particu 
 larly accurate and reliable. 
 
112 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 "We begin with his sketches of Gibraltar, and shall 
 be confined to his own manuscripts, choosing to sup 
 ply nothing from our own observation with him of all 
 he describes. 
 
 Gibraltar, August, 1835. The general appearance of the 
 whole place is that of a strongly fortified military post ; and the 
 barracks for the soldiers and officers, and buildings belonging 
 to government, with guard-houses and sentry-boxes, are very 
 numerous, and scattered in all parts of the town, so that you 
 are met by officers and soldiers every few steps you travel ; 
 and sentinels are passing at a great many different points, even 
 in the most frequented streets, in the midst of the thronging 
 population. No person but a regular inhabitant of the place can 
 pass through the gate from the mole without a permit from the 
 officer there stationed, which is only for one day, from morn 
 ing to evening gun-fire, and must be delivered up to the same 
 on the departure of the bearer. To remain a number of days, 
 it is necessary to obtain from the town-major a permit, ac 
 companied with security from some person that it shall be 
 delivered within the limited time to the officer at the gate. 
 
 Through the assistance of our captain and his consignees, 
 as sureties, we got in without difficulty, and were surprised, 
 as we passed along, to behold the strength of the fortifications, 
 the walls of which, all throughout the works, independent of 
 their immense local .advantage, are built with great architec 
 tural exactness, firmness, and durability. We walked from 
 the mole over a drawbridge, which is raised every night at 
 the firing of the gun at sunset, as well as that at the isthmus 
 next to the Spanish territory ; and immediately on that signal, 
 the gates, and every avenue of access, are at once closed, 
 debarring all ingress or egress till the next morning at day 
 light, when the gun is again fired, the drawbridges are raised, 
 and the gates are thrown open. 
 
 Immediately succeeding the drawbridge, was an arched en- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 113 
 
 trance, running directly under the heavy battery above it, ten 
 or fifteen feet in length, and defended with heavy gates at 
 each end. We went from thence into a court, or square, in 
 which were barracks for the soldiers, and then into the main 
 street of the town, called Water Port. During our stay there, 
 we were every evening gratified by most splendid music, from 
 a band of twelve or fourteen in number, belonging to the 
 garrison, who took their station about half past seven, waiting 
 for the signal-gun, immediately on the discharge of which, they 
 struck up some beautiful martial air, and soon marched away 
 to their barracks, leaving us earnestly wishing the prolon 
 gation of their sweet, stirring notes, such as raised, 
 
 To height of noblest temper heroes old 
 Arming to battle ; and instead of rage, 
 Deliberate valor breath d, firm and unmov d 
 With dread of death to flight or foul retreat ; 
 Nor wanting power to mitigate and swage 
 With solemn touches troubled thoughts, and chase 
 Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and sorrow, and pain. 
 
 I rode a mile or more towards Point Europa, on the road 
 to the Lower Town, which winds along the edge of the rock. 
 It is of gravel, sufficiently wide for carriages, and has a wall of 
 stone about three feet in height on the side next the precipice, 
 which, part of the way, looks down upon the Alameda. This is an 
 extensive garden of trees, flowers, and shrubbery, intersected, 
 in a tasteful manner, by fine gravel walks, and including a 
 large gravelled square which is used as a parade ground for 
 the troops the whole presenting an appearance of open space 
 and rural beauty, which, viewing the town from the harbor, 
 you would hardly think its contracted limits could contain. 
 
 I rode out upon the isthmus towards the neutral ground 
 and Spanish territory, and had an opportunity of observing 
 the immense strength of the fortifications at that point, 
 though not to examine them so particularly as I wished. 
 
114 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 The passage out was much the same as that through which 
 we entered from the mole, being a long arched way, of 
 twenty-five or thirty feet, with gates, and defended at its out 
 ward extremity by a drawbridge and ditch thirty or forty feet 
 deep, extending considerable distance on each side, but now 
 dry and used as pasture for the governor s sheep. On the 
 left, after leaving the drawbridge, is a walled grassee, which 
 is undermined, and capable of being immediately blown up, 
 in case the enemy should land upon it. Succeeding this on 
 the left, is the natural water of the Bay of Algeciras ; on the 
 right an artificial inundation, extending to the foot of the 
 towering rock, frowning with its black guns on the passer 
 below, and leaving space only for a carriage-way to the larger 
 isthmus beyond. This whole passage, a number of rods in 
 length, is also undermined, and can at once be blown up. 
 
 All along, at different points, are sentinels ; and at the 
 termination of the English boundary, which extends about a 
 quarter of a mile from the foot of the rock, is a line of sentry- 
 boxes, reaching across the isthmus from Algeciras Bay on the 
 west, to the Mediterranean on the east ; and parallel with the 
 same, at the beginning of the Spanish jurisdiction, is a similar 
 line, the English being painted black, the Spanish white, and 
 the strip of neutral ground, about an eighth of a mile in 
 width intervening. Within the English lines are some green 
 and pleasant looking gardens, owned by government, and 
 rented for the cultivation of vegetables, which, contrasted 
 with the sand and barrenness of the isthmus around them, 
 have to the eye a very grateful appearance. There are also 
 enclosures for cattle in readiness for the market, the lodge 
 of the governor s porter, and close at the foot of the rock 
 some limekilns, and hospital buildings for the sick soldiers. 
 
 In viewing the great strength of the extensive artificial for 
 tifications, the natural situation, height, and steepness of 
 the rock, one is speedily impressed with the arduousness, 
 if not perfect impracticability of any attempt to displace 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEE, M.D. 115 
 
 by force the present possessors of these costly, and so far 
 impregnable fortifications. The Moorish castle is built in a 
 strong, regular manner, of brick and stone, covered with 
 plaster, and occupies a large area of ground. The arched 
 gateway seems yet firm, though the whole fortress bears an 
 appearance of great age, and of having been the stronghold 
 of a people several hundred years back into antiquity. A 
 part of these fortifications is now used as a military prison. 
 
 Our ascent to the excavations (which are five or six hundred 
 feet below the highest point of the rock) was over a very good 
 road for horses, built up most of the way on the side of the 
 rock, and of hard gravel and stone. The first of the exca 
 vations is called Lower Union Gallery, which is hewn or 
 blown out of the solid rock, at a width of eight or ten feet, 
 and high enough for a man on horseback. It is several hun 
 dred feet in length, and terminates at a higher point of the 
 rock, after traversing which for some time, we entered Upper 
 Union Gallery. It has much the appearance of the other, 
 there being large embrasures in both, at short intervals, for 
 cannon of very heavy calibre, and also ammunition-boxes 
 and cannon-balls in readiness for immediate use in case of 
 danger to the fortress, which I hope it will never be neces 
 sary to apply to the murderous purpose for which they were 
 made. 
 
 At a distance of about eight hundred feet above the level 
 of the sea, we came to the entrance of Windsor Gallery, 
 where there is a platform for a gun, from which the prospect 
 is very extensive, and the size of objects below very much 
 diminished by the great height from which you look upon 
 them. The waters of the Mediterranean are to be seen on 
 one side ; that of the Bay of Algeciras on the other, with the 
 town of St. Koque, and the adjoining territory of Spain in 
 front across the isthmus. Here I was obliged to dismount, 
 the roof of the excavation not being high enough to admit a 
 man on horseback. We descended gradually for several hun- 
 
 
116 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 dred yards, till we came to the termination of the excavation 
 in St. George s Hall, which is cut out of a sort of wing, 
 which, at this point, projects from the main rock, and forms 
 what is termed in fortification a bastion, commanding, with 
 its four guns, the ground at the foot of the cliff below, thus 
 preventing the successful application of scaling-ladders by an 
 enemy attacking the fortress. 
 
 As you enter the hall from the gallery, there are two wind 
 ing stair-cases of sixty feet each one of which leads to a 
 battery in the excavations below, and the other to a point of 
 the rock above. The hall occupies an area of about fifteen 
 feet, and the roof is about that in height. After examining 
 this remarkable place, and taking a piece of the rock from 
 one of the embrasures, we commenced our descent by a dif 
 ferent and more direct way than that by which we came up. 
 
 On the way down, we left tracts at most of the guard 
 houses we passed, which were very gratefully received ; and 
 as the soldiers at these stations change every day in the week, 
 they will probably be read by a great many, and, we humbly 
 hope, be instrumental of great good. We were cheered to 
 find that some among the soldiers gave evidence that they are 
 followers of Christ. With two in particular, I had very in 
 teresting conversation ; and it was delightful, in the midst of 
 the moral desolations which too evidently exist in that place, 
 to meet with some who seemed to feel them to be such, and 
 to whom we could speak on subjects of common interest to 
 all who truly have an experimental acquaintance with our 
 blessed and only Redeemer, Jesus Christ. In thus distribut- 
 ino 1 them, we felt more than ever the blessedness of these 
 
 O 
 
 winged messengers of salvation, leaving them with those 
 whom we may never again see till the last great day of ac 
 count. Oh, may they then be found to have been the power 
 of God, and the wisdom of God, to the salvation of their 
 souls ! 
 
 In viewing these impregnable fortifications, though they are 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 117 
 
 wonderful monuments of the persevering labor and skill of 
 men ; yet the cause of their construction, founded in the dis 
 position to war and rapine so prevalent among mankind, who 
 ought to live as brethren, prevented that feeling of heartfelt 
 pleasure and satisfaction, which may be experienced in seeing 
 the works of nature or of art for other purposes than that of 
 defence from the attacks of our fellow creatures. 
 
 Malaga, August, 1835. The line of the coast from Gib 
 raltar to this place, about eighty miles, runs nearly northeast 
 and southwest. The city fronts the south, its buildings being 
 generally from two to four stories in height, and neatly washed 
 white or straw-color. The most prominent objects are the 
 immense cathedral, with its towering steeple, and grave, som 
 bre appearance, which stands in a central part of the city, 
 and the extensive remains of the dark, time-worn, Moorish 
 fortress, Gibralfaro. This occupies the side and summit of a 
 high, steep hill, rising near the commencement of the mole, 
 in a northeast direction from the cathedral. With its towers 
 and turrets, it presents a very romantic and venerable appear 
 ance, reminding one of men and ages long buried in the dust 
 of antiquity. 
 
 Malaga was taken from the Moors in 1 462 ; and this for 
 tress having been perhaps many years before that time, it 
 must probably be five hundred or more years old. Near the 
 foot of the Gibralfaro, at the east part of the city, is the 
 mole, which runs about an eighth of a mile to the south, with 
 a slight curvature, and forms on its west side an excellent 
 basin for vessels of all classes, varying in depth from ten and 
 fifteen to twenty-five and thirty, or more feet, and having a very 
 firm anchorage. It is built of grey stone, and has a wide, hard 
 road to the light-house, and a fort at its termination, which 
 mounts several guns. On the east side, for some distance, is a 
 walk with a double row of trees. The light-house is eighty feet 
 in height, neatly white-washed, arid has a revolving light visible 
 eighteen miles. 
 
118 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 "We went into the cathedral a few days after we came on 
 shore, and found it as magnificent inside as it was imposing 
 and grand outside. The floor is paved with square blocks 
 of red and white marble ; the sides of the building adorned 
 with numerous paintings a few of them the finest specimens 
 of art. The middle of the church is occupied by the choir 
 arid the chancel, where are two immense organs. There are 
 three principal entrances on different sides of the building, to 
 which you ascend by marble steps from the street. The 
 vaulted roof is most richly ornamented with carved work ; 
 but in this, as in other churches we have visited, there is too 
 great a profusion of tinsel and gilding, which appears only for 
 show, and is highly offensive to good taste. There are also 
 many niches in which are groups of carved figures and mar 
 ble statues, some of them well executed. At those of the 
 Virgin Mary it is painful to see the delusion of the people in 
 kneeling before them, counting their beads, and crossing 
 themselves in (to us) the most ridiculous and absurd man 
 ner. 
 
 At the marble basins of " holy water," placed near the 
 door, we are amazed to see people come in from the streets, 
 dip their fingers in it, and with most rapid gesticulations, and 
 truly farcical manner, cross their foreheads, chins, and breasts, 
 and again retire, deceived, I fear, with the idea that by these 
 senseless observances they are doing all that is necessary for 
 the salvation of their souls. Chapels to different saints of 
 the calendar occupy the large alcoves around the building, 
 which are richly adorned with painting and statuary, and in 
 every one is an altar to say mass. In the chapel both of the 
 Nunnery and Convent which we have visited, we were, with 
 considerable violence of tone and manner, commanded in 
 Spanish to kneel at the elevation of the host ; but this we 
 steadfastly persisted in not doing, as we should consider it a 
 violation of our consciences thus u to bow down ourselves" in 
 an act of adoration and worship which is forbidden by the 
 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 119 
 
 law of God, and to that which has in itself neither the power 
 nor attributes of Deity. 
 
 Three days ago disturbances took place here, which, as 
 they terminated in a change of government, may be call 
 ed a Revolution. On the latter part of Sabbath after 
 noon, our attention was arrested by the unusual noise and 
 excitement among the Urbanos (national guards) who rendez 
 vous in the Convent opposite, and a body of them soon moved 
 off to what appeared to be the scene of the commotion. We 
 heard firing, and three or four wounded men were soon car 
 ried by on litters, the sight of whose ghastly wounds and 
 fresh-shed blood gave us something of an idea of the horrors 
 of war. The soldiers and people were full of enthusiasm, 
 and even the boys partook largely in it. From all, the cries 
 of " Viva la Constitucion ! Yiva la Libertad !" were loud and 
 frequent. In the evening the bells rang, and the city was 
 illuminated. 
 
 The circumstances of the affair were, that a body of the 
 Urbanos and queen s troops, on their way to get him to de 
 clare the constitution, were met by the governor whom they 
 sought, with a small number of the queen s troops, or a kind 
 of gens d armes, as a body-guard, whom, after some parleying, 
 he ordered to fire on the Urbanos. This was returned by 
 them with fatal effect, three of the governor s guard being 
 killed, two or three wounded, and, on the other side, two of 
 the troops of the line wounded. The governor retired to a 
 convent in the vicinity, but soon yielded himself to the popu 
 lar current ; and thus the Government of the city became 
 constitutional. On Monday, the next day, the troops, to the 
 number of about eight hundred or one thousand, met in the 
 Constitutional (before Royal) Square, and with great enthu 
 siasm, swore by acclamation to the Constitution. 
 
 The houses were decorated with red and white hangings ; 
 and from our pleasant situation in the balcony of a coffee 
 house, we had a fine view of the Spanish ladies in those of 
 
120 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 the surrounding buildings, and of the people and troops in 
 the Square below. On the next day, twelve or fifteen hun 
 dred troops left here for Granada, to do, or help to do there, 
 what has been done here. Wives embraced their husbands, mo 
 thers their sons, with an apparent affection that was itself 
 quite affecting. In the evening, the city was again splen 
 didly illuminated, as it had been the two preceding nights, 
 and presented a very brilliant appearance. The high tower 
 of the cathedral in particular, looked predominantly bright, 
 lighted, as it was, to its top, by four rows of lamps, in all 
 making one hundred. 
 
 The Convent opposite us, as well as all in the city, had been 
 evacuated by their tenants, the Friars, in the night, four or 
 five days previous, for fear of disturbances similar to those that 
 have lately taken place at Barcelona and other places in Spain, 
 where many of their order have been maltreated and murdered. 
 Nine hundred of these useless establishments have been sup 
 pressed by an order from the Government at Madrid, and 
 their property devoted to the liquidation of the National debt. 
 Witnessing as we did, from the balcony, the strong enthusiasm 
 and rapid motions of the soldiers and people, with the stars 
 and stripes of our native country floating over our heads a 
 signal of sympathy, wherever it waves, with those struggling 
 for national liberty we could not but be much excited, though 
 the whole scene was but little in unison with that holy day 
 upon which it was transacted. 
 
 No real excesses have been committed, though a few of the 
 little buildings where the gate duty is collected have been 
 burned, and, much to the joy of the country people around, 
 that burden has been for a few days taken off, and a consi 
 derable reduction of it permanently made. How false and 
 injurious is this system of internal dutie s, cramping the com 
 merce and industry of the nation, for the short-sighted reason 
 of temporarily swelling the treasures of government. 
 
 The number of poor in this city is very great ; we may well 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 121 
 
 say that we have never seen poverty to be compared with the 
 dreadful wretchedness which here meets our eye at almost 
 every step. Their sufferings in the rainy season must be dis 
 tressingly great, as they have not the abundance of fruit upon 
 which they can now subsist for almost nothing, neither a com 
 fortable shelter, without which, in the warmer part of the 
 year, they may live without much suffering. In the winter, 
 also, they are almost entirely without employ, so that they 
 have hardly any means of support, and indeed, not unfre- 
 quently, starve to death. 
 
 How striking is the contrast with our own happy country, 
 where no one who is able to work need suffer for want of food, 
 and where there is not that abrupt and painful descent from 
 ample wealth and comfortable circumstances on one hand, to 
 grinding poverty and absolute starvation on the other ! With 
 a more enterprising, energetic, and equal government, freed 
 from the absurd, expensive rites, and the debasing, cramping 
 influence of the Roman Catholic religion, this nation might 
 assume something of its former importance and grandeur among 
 the other powers of Europe, and have that general internal 
 prosperity which always follows the impartial administration 
 of just and equal laws. 
 
 It is evident the church of Rome has not that power and 
 influence over this people which she possessed not many years 
 ago, and, indeed, within a very few years her power has been 
 much weakened. If this revolution should terminate, as I hope 
 it will, in the attainment of a more free and constitutional 
 form of government, it will be an invaluable blessing to this 
 nation ; but the great fear is, that the object of its honest 
 promoters may be defeated by the ambition and caprice of 
 selfish, designing men. Alas ! what a Golgotha is this 
 land ! What, with the early wars of the Goths and Romans j 
 those of the Spaniards and Moors ; the more modern cam 
 paigns of Napoleon and Lord Wellington ; the civil wars 
 which have desolated the country, and are now raging in some 
 6 
 
122 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 parts of it ; the violence of banditti and assassins ; how truly 
 may it be said that there is hardly a foot of the soil not fat 
 tened with human blood ! Oh ! when, throughout the world, 
 shall the insatiate sword be sheathed, and no more drink up 
 the blood of millions, whom it "has cut off even in the very 
 blossoms of their sins," and sent reeking into eternity ? 
 
 The circumstances of his arrival at this salubrious 
 city of Andalusia, and his reception there by his uncle, 
 are thus given in a letter to his mother, dated Malaga, 
 September 10, 1835. 
 
 After a fine run from Gibraltar we came in sight, early on 
 the morning of August 1st, of the vine-clad and romantic hills 
 of Malaga, and, about twelve, at noon, cast anchor under the 
 protection of its noble Mole. Here we were soon visited along 
 side by the health officer, who, after various inquiries, ap 
 pointed us eight days quarantine to observe ; the regulations 
 of which are very strict, no person being allowed to go on 
 shore from, or come on board a vessel in that state, and all 
 letters and packages delivered at the side, are immersed or 
 sprinkled with water or vinegar. Mr. Strachan, the Vice 
 Consul, came off alongside the same day, bringing uncle s re 
 gards and welcome. The next day uncle himself came off, 
 and then we first saw him of whom we have so often and fondly 
 heard you speak. He stopped a short time alongside, and 
 inquired if we had any little wants to be supplied, then bade 
 us good morning, and returned to the shore. In the course 
 of a few days he sent us off a supply of fine fruit, wine, and 
 milk, which it was pleasant to have on the table for the use 
 of the captain and mates. 
 
 On the forenoon of Saturday, August 8th (having received 
 another visit of the Health Officer, to be seen by whom all on 
 board are obliged to range themselves at the side of the ship), 
 and Mr. Strachan having come off to accompany us, we 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 123 
 
 landed, and, after a few minutes walk, arrived at uncle s house, 
 and were kindly and hospitably received by him. He was 
 very sorry to find me so unwell, but " hoped he should be able 
 to bring me round again." It was not long before I began to 
 feel at home under his hospitable roof, and, under his care, 
 with the comforts and commodious accommodations I enjoy, 
 I soon began to improve in health. The house is pleasantly 
 situated on the street of St. Austin, which leads from one of 
 the entrances to the Cathedral, to the Calle de Granada, one 
 of the principal streets of the city. Directly opposite is a 
 large convent, which, as well as all the other convents in 
 Malaga* was vacated by its occupants a few days previous to 
 the late revolution, August 23d. 
 
 You enter the house from a small square, one side of which 
 it forms ; the other three are the rectangular walls of a nun 
 nery. Passing through a small double entry, guarded with 
 strong heavy doors, you are upon the first floor of the house, 
 which is paved with brick, and used for stable and carriage- 
 house, and has, directly in the centre, with three sides of the 
 house looking down upon it, a beautiful little open court, paved 
 with marble, having at one end a purling fountain of pure 
 water, discharging itself into a marble reservoir, containing 
 two fine gold fish, and shaded by a latticed arbor of honey 
 suckle, the whole most tastefully adorned with a great variety 
 of plants in large earthen pots and artificial borders at the 
 sides, from which many are trained up the walls of the house. 
 Over the dining-room window is quite a large wooden frame 
 of lattice-work, entirely covered with a green running plant, 
 which makes an agreeable screen from the hot rays of the sun. 
 
 Ascending a few steps is the Consulate on the right, a fine 
 cool place, where the clerks write and the entrances and clear 
 ances are made out, uncle giving his signature in his Library 
 on the next floor, to which, turning to the left from the Con 
 sulate, you arrive by ascending a broad open flight of stairs. 
 On this floor, which is of square bricks highly polished, is a 
 
 /. 
 
124: MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Ball, into which you first enter, on one side of which is uncle s 
 bed-room and library, and at its end on the other, a fine sum 
 mer parlor, fronting on one side the street, and on the other 
 the cool, refreshing court. All these, as well as the dining 
 room, to which you come by another broad flight of stairs, are 
 most richly and classically adorned with paintings of the best 
 masters, some of them very old and rare, and exquisitely fine 
 and beautiful. One, in particular, commands the admiration 
 of all who behold it, the picture of St. Jerome translating the 
 Bible, which is placed over the door of the dining room, im 
 mediately opposite uncle George s seat at the table, and stands 
 out from the canvas with all the vivid reality of life itself. 
 Indeed, almost the whole house is as it were a gallery of paint 
 ings, and those of the highest character. At the end of the 
 parlor opposite the door, is the venerable portrait of Grand 
 father Barrell. 
 
 On the next floor above is our comfortable suite of rooms. 
 Toward our generous uncle we already begin to feel a strong 
 affection, growing with our increased knowledge of his charac 
 ter and disposition, and his noble and estimable qualities. In 
 the constitution of his mind there are united with a strong 
 and vigorous intellect, a capacious and retentive memory, un 
 common acuteness of perception and discrimination, great 
 delicacy and refinement of feeling, a frank, humane, and be 
 nevolent spirit, a high sense of honor, great energy and deci 
 sion of character, and a thorough acquaintance with human 
 nature, joined with all those qualities, except piety, which make 
 a man firm and enduring as a friend, and forgiving and forget 
 ful of an enemy. In conversation he is always interesting, 
 sometimes truly affable ; and he is ever and anon emitting 
 bright scintillations of original thought and native feeling, that 
 indicate the rare composition and delicate texture of his mind. 
 
 With all these excellencies, you may well believe, he 
 has many friends ; he has surely no enemies : he is gene 
 rally known throughout the south of Spain, and as far as 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 125 
 
 his name is known ho is respected and esteemed. Not a few 
 are the individuals whom he has rescued from misery, poverty, 
 and disgrace, who live to bless and revere his name. He has 
 considerable influence with government, and has just obtained 
 permission from the Queen, for which he has long been labor 
 ing, to build a cemetery for the burial of Americans who may 
 fall in this foreign clime. Perhaps you have seen a remark 
 made by Mr. Everett, whem Ambassador at Madrid, that, if 
 he should die there, he could not be buried within the walls 
 of the city. Such is, or has been, the intolerance of the reli 
 gion of Spain. The iron yoke, we hope, is now being broken 
 by an "aggrieved, insulted, much-abused people." 
 
 October Sth. Some days since, we visited the very exten 
 sive Moorish Castle back of the Alameda, near the foot of 
 which the sea formerly beat, but is now distant many rods : 
 the intervening land, upon which handsome blocks of buildings 
 now stand and the Alameda partly occupies, being made by 
 the mud driven in from the mouth of the little river Guadel- 
 medina. The Castle is now occupied as a military arsenal, 
 soldiers barracks, hospital, etc., though in some parts, from 
 the neglect of government, it is in a ruinous condition. The 
 main entrance is into a large open court, all sides of which 
 the building surrounds, and on one were a number of men at 
 work casting bullets, and fifteen or twenty immense bronze 
 cannon, and several mortars also of the same material. It is 
 constructed with great regularity and prodigious strength, and 
 shows the Moors to have been an intelligent and industrious 
 people. The whole building, with its dark, time-worn, battle- 
 mented walls, has a very ancient and romantic appearance. 
 
 Here we are in the province of Granada, the conquest of 
 which Washington Irving has described with such graphic 
 elegance ; the scene of the achievements of G-onzalo de Cordova, 
 and of the stubborn bravery of the chivalric Moors, who were 
 once supreme lords of the soil on which we now tread, with 
 the ruinous monuments of whose industry and skill we are 
 
126 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 here and there surrounded. A fortnight since I visited the 
 Cathedral with Henry. We took a regular survey of it, though 
 I was not able, and shall not attempt till my health is compe 
 tent for it, to go up into the tower. It is, indeed, a magnifi 
 cent structure. There are in the choir six clusters or blocks 
 of white marble pillars ; each block containing four elegantly- 
 wrought fluted columns, all fronting a different way, sixty-seven 
 feet in height. There are also eight others of these isolated 
 clusters, besides twenty pillars at the sides of the Cathedral. 
 The height inside to the vaulted roof is 132 feet ; breadth 
 165, and length 323. There are fourteen niches for images 
 and statuary, and twelve chapels. That of the Incarnation is 
 exceedingly rich and splendid, and contains two fine pieces of 
 sculpture, the statues, in a kneeling position, of two former 
 bishops of Malaga. There is also, in a niche at one end of the 
 choir, an excellent piece of sculpture, the Virgin Mary sup 
 porting the dead body of our Saviour ; but there is something 
 so gross and revolting in these factitious representations, that 
 I do not enjoy much in looking at them. 
 
 In the church of the convent opposite us, is a miserable 
 image of our Saviour in a bed, dressed most absurdly with 
 trinkets and finery, and presenting a most disgustingly ridicu 
 lous and odious appearance. The sides of the choir are most 
 ingeniously and elegantly carved, in dark mahogany, with 
 figures of saints, ecclesiastics, etc., so natural and true, that 
 even the very expression of the countenance can be observed. 
 The grand altar, or tabernacle, is of pure white marble, as 
 cended by several steps. The music of the choir is very 
 fine, the performers being some of the same we have heard 
 with so much exquisite delight in the church adjoining Uncle s 
 house. There are two immense organs, with large pipes 
 terminating horizontally, one on each side of the choir, about 
 thirty feet above the floor of the Cathedral. The height of 
 the tower of the Cathedral is 309 feet : it looms up in the sky 
 at a long distance from the city ; from every point you view 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 127 
 
 it, and the whole building rises high above everything around 
 it, presenting a grand and venerable appearance. 
 
 October 19^, 1835. A conspiracy of a most infamous 
 character was discovered a day or two since, on the eve of its 
 execution, by the confession of one of the conspirators. The 
 plot was to murder the Governor, and some other influential 
 persons, burn the papers of the Junta, and, probably, commit 
 other depredations, which would have made the city a scene 
 of violence, rapine, and bloodshed. As soon as it was dis 
 covered, the urbanos, or nacionales, as they are now called, 
 repaired in great numbers to protect the Governor from harm. 
 Several of the conspirators were arrested, and some made 
 their escape to the mountains around this city one, in the 
 hurry of his flight, leaving his cloak in the street. One of 
 the chief persons concerned was a member of the late Junta, 
 which has been dissolved for a new election. 
 
 On Friday afternoon, four men were put to death in this 
 city in a most summary manner. They had been confined 
 for some time in prison, for political and other offences. 
 Their punishment has been delayed by the proper authorities 
 for a long- time, probably from the influence of secret bribery, 
 which has so exasperated the people, that at the time above 
 mentioned, a body of the nacionales repaired to their prison, 
 took them out into the dry bed of the Guadelmedina, and shot 
 them without any delay, except to permit them to make their 
 wills, and confess to a priest. There are good laws, but they 
 are so shamefully contravened by the chicanery and techni 
 calities of the scriveners and lawyers, as to cause the people 
 to take the reparation of their wrongs into their own hands. 
 
 October 28th. Yesterday Mr. Strachan, Henry, and my 
 self made a jaunt of about eight miles into the mountainous 
 country which surrounds Malaga. We started on horseback 
 from the house about eight o clock in the morning, taking 
 the road to Velez Malaga, in which we continued to a short 
 distance beyond the village of Palo, two or three miles from 
 
128 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Malaga. So far the road was good for carnages, but we 
 then turned off into a narrow footpath, and soon began to 
 ascend the mountains in single file, our guide in front, and 
 we following in his steps. 
 
 We arrived in a short time to a great height, many hun 
 dred feet above the sea, winding up loftj mountains from 
 whence the prospect of the Mediterranean, and the surround 
 ing country was very extensive and beautiful. The sides of 
 the mountains, cultivated with innumerable grape-vines, dis 
 posed with great regularity, here and there interspersed with 
 a neat, white farm-house, and sometimes a beautiful olive- 
 grove, rendered the scene most charmingly picturesque and 
 beautiful. Sometimes we were on the ridge of a high hill, 
 cultivated on each side, with narrow valleys at its foot, shut 
 in at all points by the surrounding mountains, presenting a 
 tasteful picture of rural scenery, though unlike that in Ame 
 rica in its almost entire destitution of trees. 
 
 Much of the road was very rough and laborious for the 
 horses, who, being accustomed to these mountain paths, are 
 very sure-footed animals. Not even the small attention of 
 throwing the loose stones out of the way had been bestowed 
 upon it, which the labor of a few men, with proper instru 
 ments, might render very smooth and commodious. It was 
 some of the way on the almost perpendicular side of the 
 mountain, where a single false step of the horse would have 
 been almost certain death to his rider, and perhaps to him 
 also ; but by the kind care of our heavenly Father, we were 
 preserved from all accident, both in our going out and com 
 ing in. We arrived at the farm-house, the limit of our ride 
 (with the owner of which Mr. S. was previously acquainted), 
 about twelve o clock, having been on horseback four hours, 
 but not fatigued by the ride. 
 
 The farm-house did not present that air of tidy neatness 
 and comfort which is so common in those of New England. 
 The room in which we dined was used for cooking, eating, 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 129 
 
 and work ; and at one end, with no partition between, is the 
 wine-press. The process of expressing the juice is exceed 
 ingly dirty and ill-contrived : the grapes were scraped up 
 from the ground where they lay, with no small proportion of 
 dust and dirt of various deiScriptions, thrown upon the floor 
 of the press, where they are first trodden by a man with 
 grass shoes on, and then pressed by means of a long, heavy 
 lever, connected with a jack-screw to a square platform that 
 is placed upon the bruised grapes. The juice runs into a 
 round vat sunk in the ground, bricked up at its sides, its top 
 just coming above the ground, and without any cover ex 
 posed to all the dirt and dust around. 
 
 The floor of the press is of square tiles, and no atten 
 tion is paid to keeping it clean, being spit and trod upon 
 indiscriminately. We saw the must in large jars, undergoing 
 the process of fermentation, which, it is true, carries off most 
 of the impurities ; but how much better would the wine be if 
 it was made in a neater and more ingenious manner. It is 
 kept fermenting in these jars for some days or weeks, as the 
 case may be ; then put into hog-skins, covered on the inside 
 with pitch, and carried on the backs of mules to the wine- 
 cellars of the city, where brandy is added, and the process 
 of fermentation finished. 
 
 We had quite a good dinner, though in rather uncivilized 
 style, all drinking from the same tumbler, and having a 
 scanty supply of knives and forks. The principal dish was 
 rice and Spanish peas, boiled with a fowl, which was served 
 up afterwards. We then had grapes, honey, and preserved 
 potatoes. We started on our way back about ten minutes 
 before four by a different and more direct way than that by 
 which we came, and arrived at the house a little before seven, 
 having ridden during the last part of our way at a very rapid 
 rate, quite in cavalier style, in fine spirits from the exhilarat 
 ing effects of our exercise, and with much reason to acknow 
 ledge the watchful care of a kind Providence. 
 6* 
 
130 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 December 24th. To-night is the eve of Christmas, which 
 the Spaniards call " NOCHE BUENA," and the bells are ringing 
 at intervals in anticipation of the feast. Christmas-eve is 
 celebrated with great festivity and rejoicing. The Cathedral 
 is kept open to a late hour of the night, with singing and 
 music . 
 
 We have called lately on Mr. Loring, the great American 
 fruit and wine merchant ; visited his wine-cellars, which seem ex 
 tensive enough to load many ships. We tasted of many kinds of 
 wine, and of some of the pure must, which was rather sweet and 
 cloying. Indeed, that which has some admixture of spirit is by 
 far more palatable, though it is possible to send it pure across 
 the Atlantic in bottles or demijohns without injury ; but this 
 is seldom done. There is a method they have of stopping 
 the process of fermentation, by burning a sulphur match in 
 the cask which contains the must, and thoroughly impreg 
 nating it with the smoke. A kind of wine, or more properly 
 cordial, called " Lacryma Christi,* was very mild and 
 delicate, and had a fine flavor, suiting our palates more 
 than any other we tasted, though by connoisseurs, that 
 which had more brandy in it would be much preferred. The 
 sweet wine is composed of four ingredients, according to 
 Mr. L., viz., fermented must, arrope (which is the juice of 
 the grape boiled down to the consistency of molasses), bran 
 dy, and new unfermented must. It is a wine much used by 
 the ladies, is highly nutritious, and exceedingly grateful to 
 the taste. 
 
 Amidst so much that was outward and dissipating, 
 the culture of the inner man, and the improvement 
 of opportunities of doing good were not neglected, as 
 will be seen by the selections that follow from the 
 Private Journal. 
 
 At Uncle Georgeh, Malaga , August ISth. Sabbath. 
 Here am I, on this holy day, far separated from my beloved 
 
OF NATHANIEL OHEEVEK, M.D. 13 i 
 
 relatives at home, and the enjoyment of the high Christian 
 privileges with which I was so long favored there ; but, blessed 
 be the Lord, I am not denied the precious privilege of prayer, 
 or the perusal of his holy Word. The Sabbath here is far 
 different from the same day in my own land, being a day of 
 recreation and amusement, and not sanctified and devoted, as 
 it should be, to the exclusive worship and service of God. 
 We find, as we expected, many new temptations assailing us, 
 and we need much grace successfully to resist them. Uncle 
 George is a most agreeable, intelligent, and interesting man ; 
 yet it requires much wisdom to pursue a~ judicious, and. at 
 the same time, a firm and upright course before him. But 
 thy grace, Lord, is sufficient for every emergency, and 
 thou wilt give liberally to all who ask of thee in truth. Oh, 
 grant it to us in this our new situation of trial and temp 
 tation, and make thy strength perfect in our weakness. 
 
 September 27th, Sabbath afternoon. How greatly do we 
 miss the precious services of this holy day, which we enjoyed 
 at home, there being none here but in the Catholic forms, in 
 which we have no inclination to partake ; for they are so pal 
 pably gross, and addressed to the senses so superstitious arid 
 absurd, that we cannot be edified by witnessing them, but 
 only disgusted, and indignant with those who perpetuate such 
 a system of deception and error. 
 
 October \Sth. I have this week had quite a severe ill turn, 
 but am now much better. I think I have felt in a more 
 spiritual frame of mind for a few days, than for some time 
 past. It is in kindness, no doubt, that the Lord thus again 
 and again afflicts me with the stroke of his hand, to keep me 
 humble and in a state of constant dependence upon himself. 
 And though I know his grace is sufficient for me in any situ 
 ation, yet he may be thus gradually restoring me to health ; 
 giving me occasional checks in my convalescent progress, to 
 preserve me from vain self-reliance, and make me feel that 
 all my strength is in him. 
 
132 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 November 1st, Sabbath evening. We, this forenoon, at 
 twelve o clock, attended service in the Episcopal form, at the 
 house of Mr. Mark, the English Consul, having been intro 
 duced by our Uncle to his family, with whom the Consul 
 reads the Church Service every Sabbath in private. It is 
 pleasant to enjoy even a shadow of the delightful privileges 
 we have left behind us in our own land. I yesterday had the 
 pleasure of giving a Spanish Testament and some Tracts to 
 a young man whom we met in an excursion to the country 
 the first of the week, and to whom I then promised one when 
 he should come for it. May the Holy Spirit accompany its 
 truths to him, and to the hearts of all who may read it, and 
 make it effectual to the salvation of their immortal souls. 
 
 November 2Qth. How rapidly has the time flown since we 
 came here, and yet how little seem I to have done how lit 
 tle to have grown in grace ! We see much sin around us, 
 and are compelled to hear much sinful conversation ; but I 
 think I can truly say, the more I see of sin, the worse it 
 appears, tho more revolting, and odious ; and, oh ! may I have 
 grace to preserve me from the evil influence of such an im 
 pure, moral atmosphere. For a week past I have been in 
 very comfortable health, though, for some time previous, I 
 was much afflicted with my asthma. 
 
 December 6th. The climate is very mild and beneficial, and 
 I am much better than when I arrived here, but still I am 
 not rid of the asthma ; it yet clings to my constitution. O 
 Lord, prepare me to suffer whatever thou shalt lay upon me ; 
 and prepare me for death, in whatever shape it may come ; 
 by shipwreck, or violence, or the lingering, heavy hand of dis 
 ease. Oh ! may my soul be ready and waiting for its dismissal 
 from the body, and prepared to unite in the blessed enjoyment 
 of heaven. On the fifteenth of November I renewed my 
 solemn covenant with God, being its fifth anniversary, but 
 not with the freedom I could wish, much of the day being con 
 sumed in the company of the officers of the United States ship 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 133 
 
 John Adams, then in port. But in whatever circumstances 
 I may be placed, may I ever have a deep and constant sense 
 of its solemn obligations. We have lately had the pleasure 
 of distributing several Spanish Testaments ; since we arrived, 
 have given away seventeen. May their blessed truths, though 
 mixed with error by the translator, be blessed to the eternal 
 salvation of all who read them. 
 
 After nearly five months at Malaga, during which 
 time the improvement in the health of the invalid was 
 very gradual, it was judged best to avail ourselves of 
 an opportunity presented for a longer voyage. The 
 reasons that led to this are given below in an extract 
 from the Journal dedicated to his sister. 
 
 Malaga, January ls, 1836. The old year has finished its 
 ccfurse, and a new one commenced, involving the destiny of 
 millions now on the stage of being, and of unnumbered thou 
 sands yet unborn. I was not asleep when the clock of the 
 Cathedral, with its solemn strokes, announced the departing 
 knell of the old year, and ushered in the new. Last year, at 
 this time, I was at our own happy fireside in Hallowell, en 
 joying the sweet endearing society of mother and E , and all 
 the pleasures and blessings with which, as a family, we 
 have always been so abundantly favored. I am in much 
 better health now, and 1 may be recovering, although I 
 still have quite frequent attacks of my obstinate disorder. 
 We are now on the point of embarking for Marseilles, and 
 thence to New Orleans, in the ship Julia, in order to try the 
 effect of a long sea voyage. 
 
 In leaving this city for the sea, I do not feel many regrets, 
 convinced as I am that it will be better for me to be on the 
 ocean. There is no Christian Sabbath, nor any but an apos 
 tate church ; neither have we found any intimate friends with 
 whom we could perfectly correspond in feeling or principle. 
 
134 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Yet I cannot leave, without a pang, our noble Uncle, nor bid 
 adieu coldly to persons and scenes with whom we have now 
 been conversant for the space of five months. 
 
 With a free, enterprising national government, and an en 
 lightened, energetic city corporation, Malaga and the country 
 around might exceed the richness and splendor it enjoyed 
 under the elegant reign of the Moors. But an expensive civil 
 war in the northern provinces, a wretched system of import 
 and export duties, even between the different provinces, and a 
 general unenlightened policy, serve, in a great measure, to 
 cramp and depress individual enterprise, and keep the country 
 from occupying that place among the nations, which her rich 
 and extensive resources might enable her to hold. One thing 
 is favorable : the illiberal, tyrannising, degrading influence of 
 the Roman Catholic religion is very much weakened, and the 
 people are fast emerging from that galling yoke which has so 
 long ground them in the dust. Oh ! that this system of ab 
 surd, useless ceremonies and superstitions might be succeeded 
 by the pure preaching and practice of the Grospel, and this 
 people become truly enlightened and Christian ! 
 
 We insert here an extract from a letter addressed to 
 the mother of the young invalid, by Professor Good 
 win, of Bowdoin College, Maine, then absent in Eu 
 rope. He had spent some time in the family, at Hal- 
 lowell, and, as an instructor, knew the capacities 
 of his pupil. He gives this voluntary expression of 
 feeling at that time, under date of Paris, February 
 5th, 1836. 
 
 " MY DEAK MRS. C , I know not how long 
 
 c the boys intend staying at Malaga, but I suppose 
 they will return home in the spring or summer ap 
 proaching. If they should stay until next autumn, I 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 135 
 
 should hope to have the pleasure of meeting them in 
 Spain, as my plan is (with due remembrance of the 
 Apostle James injunction), to spend another winter 
 in the south of Europe. I wish they would visit Paris 
 while I am here. A short stay, if it were but a fort 
 night or three w r eeks, would be very profitable to 
 them. And then, Nathaniel would enjoy it so highly 
 so infinitely more than I can. "What a wonderful 
 faculty of enjoying things he seems to have ! I have 
 often been struck by it as an astonishing instance of 
 compensation in the arrangements of God s provi 
 dence, that he who has so much to dispirit and de 
 press, has been blessed with a disposition so buoyant, 
 and animated, and joyous. The activity and energy 
 of his mind seem to mock at the infirmities of the 
 bady ; and it moves off, under the burden of a most 
 oppressive disease, with as much ease and lightness as 
 another could do unincumbered and free. 
 
 This elasticity, this cheerfulness, this sweet and hap 
 py submission, is doubtless to be chiefly ascribed to a 
 moral power to the efficacy of an inwrought, practical 
 piety, and to the special aids of God s gracious Spirit. 
 But something is still due to the original constitution 
 of his mind. What an ethereal spirit his would have 
 been, had it not so early been clogged by its connec 
 tion with bodily infirmity ! I rejoice in every new 
 encouragement we have to hope and pray that he may 
 soon be released from this bondage, and be enabled, 
 in the enjoyment of health, to devote his powers to 
 the active service of his Redeemer. And have you 
 not reason to rejoice, my dear madam, that whether 
 
136 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 your beloved son be restored to health or not in this 
 world, you have so assured a confidence that he will 
 one day be delivered from the bondage of corruption 
 into the glorious liberty of the sons of God." 
 
 We turn again to the pages of the Private Journal 
 after embarking from Malaga, and close this chapter 
 with one of the entries made at Marseilles. 
 
 Marseilles, January 26th. At Mrs. Sudds. We arrived 
 here on the 13th of this month, and shall probably sail again 
 for New Orleans the first of the week. I was visited with a 
 violent attack of my inveterate malady the day after we came 
 on shore, having taken cold the evening previous in our walk 
 from the quay in a fog, and through wet, muddy streets. Oh, 
 how much I need the blessed support of Christian grace and 
 consolation to enable me meekly and patiently to bear this 
 continued affliction ! It may now be considered doubtful 
 whether I ever get over this obstinate malady, though I can 
 not but have some hope of it ; but expedient after expedient 
 fails, and this which I have now been adopting, is far from 
 having accomplished the desired end, though it has been of 
 some benefit. 
 
 Let me now make up my mind for whatever may come 
 the attacks of this distressing, obstinate malady, as long as I 
 live, or speedy death in consequence of it. I may possibly 
 live several years longer, and yet continue to suffer with it 
 much as I have done for eight years past ; and I may be 
 speedily summoned from this world by the hand of death. 
 Oh ! blessed Almighty Saviour, support me ! Grant, oh, 
 grant the light of thy countenance, the consolations of thy 
 grace, the joys of thy salvation, and enable me with perfect 
 meekness and resignation to bear all, even the heaviest strokes 
 of thy chastising hand. I have wandered as a lost sheep, 
 but I may say with sincerity, 1 do not forget thy command- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 1ST 
 
 ments. Draw me, and I shall run after thee. " Sweetly 
 draw me by thy love." Ob, melt down my soul in view of 
 it, and of my own unutterable hardness and guilt. Trans 
 form and cleanse anew my sin-defiled soul, and then take up 
 thine abode as the sovereign of my heart, and fit me per 
 fectly for all thy holy will on earth, and to sing in heaven at 
 last, where sickness, and sorrow, and sin shall forever flee, the 
 blessed song of redeeming love, of Moses the servant of God 
 and of the Lamb for ever and ever. Amen. 
 
 " Let us be patient. These severe afflictions 
 
 Not from the ground arise, 
 But oftentimes celestial benedictions 
 Assume this dark disguise. 
 
 And, though at times, impetuous with emotion 
 
 And anguish long suppressed, 
 The swelling heart heaves, moaning like the ocean 
 
 That cannot be at rest. 
 
 We will be patient, and assuage the feeling 
 
 We cannot wholly stay ; 
 By silence sanctifying, not concealing, 
 
 The grief that must have sway." 
 
138 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 LIFE AND EXPERIENCE ON THE OCEAN AND AT NEW 
 ORLEANS. 
 
 Hope, with uplifted foot, set free from earth. 
 Pants for the place of her ethereal birth ; 
 On steady wings sails through the immense abyss, 
 Plucks amaranthine joys from bowers of bliss, 
 And crowns the soul, while yet a mourner here, 
 With wreaths like those triumphant spirits wear. 
 Hope, as an anchor, firm and sure, holds fast 
 The Christian vessel, and defies the blast. 
 
 COWPER. 
 
 OUR stay at Marseilles, in the sunny south of 
 France, was not long ; and such were the sufferings 
 of our invalid brother all the time while there, that 
 after an excursion to Toulon and the vicinity, and to 
 the birth-place of Massillon, we were glad to embark 
 again on the Julia, and stand out to sea in the Gulf 
 of Lyons. Almost every moment he could use a pen 
 while ashore, he was intent with recording in his 
 Journal, or writing to friends, descriptions and obser 
 vations upon all he saw and heard, and a history of 
 his own personal doings and life. They embody 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 139 
 
 much entertaining and valuable matter for a traveller, 
 and they open windows every now and then to his 
 inner experience, hopes, and consolations. But yield 
 ing to the obvious necessity of condensation, we omit 
 all but an account of certain remarkable paintings 
 seen at the Health Office : 
 
 The largest, which is on the right as you enter, represents 
 an actual scene iu the yellow fever, at Barcelona the black, 
 ghastly corpse of a man who has just expired with the pest, 
 a sister of charity standing at his head, and feeling, with one 
 hand, the pulse of the young physician Maret, who was sent 
 from France with other doctors, and just as he is bleeding his 
 dying patient, is seized with the malady himself. His eyes 
 become fixed and ghastly ; his arm drops powerless by his 
 side, and the deathly hue overspreads his countenance ; his 
 surgical instruments lie open by him, and the ligature for 
 bleeding is seen upon the arm of the dead man. A man and 
 boy looking in at the door, are struck with horror at the 
 scene ; and a funeral bier, with the banner of the church, is 
 passing the window. The kind, benevolent countenance of 
 the sister of charity, as she anxiously seizes the hand of the 
 sinking physician, is portrayed with admirable fidelity. This 
 fine painting was executed by Yinchon, exposed in 1823, and 
 bought by the king, who gave it to the Health Intendance of 
 Marseilles. 
 
 At right angles with this, as you enter the door, is one 
 most terribly true to life, done by M. Paulin Guerin of Mar 
 seilles, portraying the sickening horrors of the plague in that 
 city, in the year 1720. The scene is an open esplanade, near 
 the sea, where, in the violence of the pest, the bodies of its 
 victims have been left unburied, to poison the air with their 
 fetid exhalation. The most recent had been there fifteen days. 
 The Chevalier Rose, of Marseilles (the Mayor, I believe, of 
 the city), who, from the commencement of the contagion, had 
 
140 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 been very active, and exposed himself to great danger, ex 
 amines this scene of horror, and perceives near the sea two 
 ancient bastions, hollow within, and level with the earth ; of 
 these he determines to make two immense tombs, and brings 
 a hundred galley-slaves, and a company of soldiers, to throw 
 the bodies into them, in which he sets them the example by 
 taking up the first corpse himself. The whole are soon re 
 moved, and quick-lime thrown in upon the top to assist in 
 their decomposition. This expedition cost the life of all but 
 two or three of the soldiers and galley-slaves. M. Rose 
 escaped with a short sickness. 
 
 On the opposite side of the door, is one painted in 1834, 
 by Horace Vernet, Director of the Academy of Rome, ex 
 hibiting a scene of the cholera on board the French frigate, 
 Melpomene, portrayed with equal fidelity and heart-sickening 
 horror as the others. There are also several other paintings, 
 well executed one of St. Rock, in a country desolated by 
 the plague, praying to the Virgin to stop it ; another repre 
 sents the Bishop of Marseilles, during the plague of 1720, 
 distributing succor to the sick near the Hotel de Ville. Over 
 the chimney is a large medallion in bas-relief, done in marble 
 by Puget, representing the pest in Milan. 
 
 Although the emotions produced in the mind by examining 
 paintings of this character, are not of the pleasant description, 
 yet they afford such wonderful specimens of the painter s art 
 and power, that to those who admire this, the sight of them 
 is an ample reward for much time and trouble ; and we are 
 glad to have had the opportunity of seeing them. 
 
 The day before we left the city, we visited, with Mr. Caille, 
 the City Library, and Museum, where are to be seen many 
 Roman remains, Egyptian curiosities, and rare antiques, be 
 sides a large collection of medals, gold, silver, and copper, 
 and a plan of the city of Marseilles, ten or twelve feet square, 
 made in cork, with all the streets, squares, houses, etc., and 
 the harbor represented by glass, with vessels floating on it. 
 
M.D. 141 
 
 There are two Egyptian mummies, enveloped in numerous 
 bandages, their wooden cases covered with hieroglyphic figures, 
 showing probably the rank and character of the subject within 
 them. 
 
 In excavating a new dock in the harbor, there have been 
 found, within a few years, a large number of Roman coins 
 and many tombs hewn out of a single piece of marble, like a 
 sarcophagus, with urns, water-jars, lamps, etc., deposited by 
 the friends of the deceased at their burial. These are placed 
 at the Museum, and also many fragments of columns and sta 
 tues, all of marble. The Library is large and well arranged, 
 and connected with the same building is a college for students. 
 The coins and medallions are arranged in cases, with a hole to 
 contain each one, and seem to challenge almost the labor of a 
 man s life to find them out. 
 
 Ship Julia, Atlantic Ocean, February 14, 1836. We left 
 Marseilles on the fourth of this month, and, this morning, about 
 three o clock, emerged from the Straits of Gibraltar. The 
 voyage has, as before, had a fine effect upon my health ; so 
 that, as to any actual pain or particular ailment I feel, I might 
 say "I am well." But, alas! I am compelled to check the 
 exuberance of hope and bounding elasticity of spirit, by the 
 dread certainty, so often distressingly realized, that even a 
 small provocation will again bring upon me, with all its sad, 
 depressing power, the renewed attacks of my disorder. We 
 have now a fine quiet time to read, write, or study, which I 
 am endeavoring to improve with some regularity. I hope, by 
 the end of the voyage, to have acquired considerable knowledge 
 of the French, by the excellent manner of studying in the 
 " Essays," with Henry, and to increase my knowledge of 
 Spanish, by reading in the beautiful little work of Gonzalo de 
 Cordova, which, I think, may compare, in the delicacy, ro 
 mantic tenderness, and pathos of its narration and sentiment, 
 with the more celebrated works of " Paul and Virginia," and 
 " Telemachus." 
 
142 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 I am also slowly reading that condensed depository of 
 knowledge on all general subjects, " Blair s Universal 
 Preceptor," so well worthy the commendation which our 
 deceased father has bestowed upon it in one of the blank 
 leaves, which we cherish with great care, as we do everything 
 relating to his memory, since from our own experience we 
 cannot have the sweet pleasure of referring to it. I also recre 
 ate myself with Shakspeare s Plays, which furnish a fund of 
 maxim and sentiment, true to human nature, and clothed in 
 the powerful language of his vigorous, massive intellect, and 
 rich, untrammelled imagination. 
 
 February 2\st. "We are now enjoying the mild splendor 
 of a new moon, which shines calm and peaceful upon the wild 
 waste of restless waters beneath, pursuing with undeviating 
 regularity her appointed course, seen or unseen by us, un 
 ruffled by any of the affairs of this planet she illuminates with 
 the rays reflected from her superior luminary. The evenings 
 are now very fine, and the magnificent blue vault above us, 
 studded with innumerable twinkling stars, and resplendent with 
 the steady light of the greater planets and the surpassing 
 glory of the queen of night, may well cause me to exclaim, 
 with David, " The heavens declare the glory of God, and the 
 firmament showeth his handiwork," and to adore, with humil 
 ity, the almighty Architect of this beautiful refulgent temple 
 to his glory. A Sabbath-day robe of beauty is upon the sea 
 and sky to-day. We think of worshipping friends on the 
 land, and say, with the Psalmist, "How amiable are thy taber 
 nacles, Lord of Hosts ! My soul longeth, yea, even faint- 
 eth for the courts of my God." 
 
 We left at Marseilles, with one of the ministers of the 
 Protestant Church there, most of our Testaments, and four 
 French Bibles, for gratuitous distribution, also some Tracts ; 
 and I hope into whatever hands they may fall, they will do 
 good. Our accommodations on board are very comfortable 
 and convenient ; but in our Captain we have been much de- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 143 
 
 ceived, for we find him both profane and ungentlemanly. 
 There is much profanity used also by the first mate to the 
 men ; and in both instances it is most awful and revolting to 
 hear. 
 
 I have supplied the men that were destitute six, including 
 one boy with Bibles, and all with Tracts that can read. 
 To our cook, who is French, we have given a French Testa 
 ment. What an influence have the officers of a ship over the 
 men under their control ! But, alas ! how wickedly, in many 
 cases, is it perverted by setting them a miserable, irreligious 
 example cursing and swearing, and using the foul language 
 of uncontrolled passion ; and thus, instead of benefiting, cor 
 rupting and demoralizing by their example and influence those 
 under their care. 
 
 February 28th, Sabbath afternoon. Through the gracious 
 care of him who governs the elements, we are now far on our 
 way, though we still have a long distance to sail. We have 
 much to bear from the positive, overbearing manners of our 
 Captain, who, it is painful to say, in more ways than one is a 
 very wicked man. Oh ! how awful will be his cup in the 
 eternal world, if he continues till death in his wicked courses. 
 Oh, God, preserve me from the evil influence of such pro 
 fane, wicked example ; and may I be filled with compassion 
 for the immortal souls of those around me, who are so surely, 
 by their sins, if unrepented of, heaping up wrath against the 
 day of wrath, and rapidly going forward in the path to eter 
 nal ruin. I have been reading to-day in the Bible and 
 Barnes Commentary on Romans. I am also reading Aids 
 to Devotion, including Watts Guide to Prayer, and Selec 
 tions from Bickersteth. There is a small but valuable library 
 on board, from the Seamen s Library and Tract Association 
 of Philadelphia ; but the sailors do not receive much benefit 
 from if, as no attention seems to be paid to the lending of the 
 books to them. Thus are the efforts of Christians to do good 
 crossed and made inefficient by the negligence of wicked men. 
 
144 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Ship Julia, March 13th, 1836. Off Cuba, led. 19 22 , 
 long. 78 26 W. It is now seven weeks since I began to 
 recover from my last attack of asthma at Marseilles, and 
 thirty-eight days since I there embarked, during which time I 
 have not suffered with my disorder, and am daily gaming in 
 flesh and strength. The sea seems to be the very best place 
 for the improvement of my health, and I regret that our voy 
 age is so nearly at a close, for we shall, by the blessing of God, 
 probably arrive at the bar of the Mississippi in the course of 
 five or six days, and I fear the change from the pure sea air 
 to that of the land will again bring on my complaint, not 
 withstanding the unusual strength and comparative vigor I 
 have now gained. I know very well that a few days suffering 
 of its weakening, heavy attacks, would soon bring me back to 
 the weak and feeble state I have been in so many times before. 
 Be this as it may, how great is my reason for gratitude that 
 I have already enjoyed so long an interval of comfortable health, 
 longer protracted, I believe, than any I have had since I was 
 first sick. How great and undeserved is the goodness of God 
 toward me ! Thanks be unto his name, He does not reward 
 any of us according to our deserts, or recompense us accord 
 ing to the cleanness of our hands in his eye-sight ; otherwise, 
 I could hope for no mercy at his hands. We have an Advo 
 cate with the Father, even Jesus Christ, the righteous ; and, 
 O Grod, for his dear sake, forgive my backslidings, my prayer- 
 lessness, my negligent unholy living, and may I now form and 
 fulfil new purposes of holy obedience to thy commandments. 
 
 Parts of a letter written at sea, about this time, to his 
 sister, shed additional light upon his employments, 
 prospects, and state of mind, while journey ing thus 
 upon the great deep. 
 
 We find being at sea, when not oppressed with mal de mer, 
 to be an excellent place for intellectual pursuits, the monotony 
 
OF NATHANIEL C1IEEVER, M.D. 145 
 
 of outward objects leaving the mind undiverted by them, to 
 turn its whole attention to the quiet discipline and cultivation 
 of its own powers. We find abundant employment 
 trust, improvement, in reading, writing, and study. 
 be glad to know that, as when I before crossed the Atlantic, 
 I am experiencing great benefit from the voyage, though I 
 still fear the sadly opposite effects I then suffered of again 
 coming to land. I have now had enough to cool my most 
 sanguine expectations of restoration to health ; and when 
 I suffer, as I did at Marseilles, the repeated attacks of rny 
 disorder, after having too fondly hoped I should not again be 
 subjected to them, I am almost ready to despair, and endeavor 
 calmly to resign myself to the prospect of suffering thus as 
 long as I live. But, with the temporary intermission of my 
 disorder, my buoyant spirit again revives, and hope, which 
 may truly be said to spring eternal in the human breast, is 
 again an inmate of mine. 
 
 This has been my experience for more than eight years; 
 at the commencement of each one, I have too vainly hoped 
 that by its close I might be free from this malady; but 
 He, in whose hands are the issues of life and health, has 
 not yet seen fit to bless with healing power any of the 
 numerous expedients which I have tried. But may I be 
 deeply grateful that He has taught me, as I hope, how to 
 view it, and led me to feel as our dear brother has expressed 
 it, that "In vain are youth and health and spirits given, if, 
 strangers still to care and pain, we never think of Heaven." 
 I think, when you know our reasons, you will see that it was 
 best for us to go upon this voyage. The climate of Malaga, 
 though very favorable, seemed far from working a permanent 
 cure, and the known benefit of a sea voyage, with the favorable 
 opportunity of embarking in this ship, induced us to adopt it. 
 
 March 9A, lat. 20 N., long. 70 W. We this morning 
 came in sight of Cape Frangois on St. Domingo, or Hayti, 
 and have been sailing along that island all day, at the distance 
 
MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 of twenty miles from the land, which we have on the south, 
 and the Bahama Islands, and various keys, north. A strong 
 northeast breeze sprung up this morning, and we are now 
 goj^ at the rate of eight knots an hour, and ten days will 
 probably bring us to the bar at the mouth of the Missis 
 sippi. 
 
 St. Domingo is the island so triumphantly referred to by 
 the abettors of slavery, as an illustration of the ruinous con 
 sequences of emancipation ; but a reference to the facts of 
 history show that the scheme worked admirably from 1793, 
 the year of the Decree of the French Directory giving them 
 liberty, to the year 1797, when Bonaparte, as First Consul, 
 injudiciously and cruelly attempted to bring them again under 
 the yoke of slavery ; and then it was that the great mas 
 sacre took place, and Dessalines, the black general, so nobly 
 distinguished himself in fighting to maintain the liberty of the 
 former slaves, to whom even the short enjoyment they had 
 of it was dearer than life. They are now governed by a Pre 
 sident (Boyer), and a House of Assembly, chosen from among 
 themselves. 
 
 Saturday A.M., March \3th, off the, bar, at the, mouth of 
 the Mississippi. We took a pilot at half past nine this A.M., 
 and are now under his guidance, making our way with a 
 gentle breeze to the entrance of that mighty river, the Mis 
 sissippi. This A.M., before breakfast, the lead was cast, but 
 no sounding obtained in thirty-five fathom, and one of the 
 eighteen pounders was fired four times at intervals, as a sig 
 nal for the pilot to come off. There has been a thick fog 
 around us all the morning, and the loud report of the gun 
 gave a grand and prolonged echo, which reverberated like 
 peals of distant thunder. The fog, though thick around us, 
 and plainly seen descending upon the deck, is so fine as 
 hardly to be perceived upon the skin, though it fills the sur 
 rounding air with dampness. The water began to be dis 
 colored day before yestertU? in lat. about 27 N., long 87 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVEK, M.D. 147 
 
 25 W. ; and it has now assumed a thick, turbid appearance, 
 much like the Kennebec in a freshet after great rains. A 
 man is now in the main chains throwing the lead, but has 
 found no bottom yet in thirteen fathoms. 
 
 I am not yet affected with the asthma, though I fear tho 
 effects of this dampness, and of again coming ashore ; but 
 how great is our cause for gratitude for the unusually long 
 interval of freedom I have enjoyed, and for the circumstances 
 of safety and happiness in which our voyage is now nearly 
 concluded. He whose is the sea, and who made it, and 
 whose hands formed the dry land, has, in mercy, conducted 
 us over the pathless ocean, preserved us from all accident and 
 disaster, and granted us many great blessings. To him be 
 all the glory of our comfort and preservation. 
 
 Evening. We came to anchor at twenty minutes past 
 twelve, off the Southwest Pass, in ten fathoms of water. 
 After dinner H. and myself went up into the fore- top, and 
 could see around our ship, about a mile or so farther in, a 
 fleet of thirteen sail, all ships but one brig, beside a ship just 
 astern of us, which came to an anchor just after we dropped 
 ours. They had a most singular appearance, the bank of 
 fog enveloping their hulls and rigging to the main yard, and 
 causing them to look somewhat as though their lower parts 
 were sunk in the sea. A steamboat was alongside one of 
 them, lightening her to enable her to cross the bar ; and this 
 afternoon, at a later hour, she was towing her across. 
 Her steam looked very curious, rolling along on top of the 
 fog, nothing of her hull being seen, like light, fleecy clouds. 
 
 We could see none of these from the deck ; and even the 
 ship, only a few ships length astern, was sometimes almost 
 entirely hid, although the sun has been shining all day, and the 
 atmosphere, at about fifty feet above the deck, clear of fog. 
 This evening we can hear the ships bells around us, either 
 striking the hour, or to warn any ships coming in, where they 
 are. A steamboat will probably come off to us to-morrow, to 
 
148 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 take the ship over the bar, and up the river. The water on 
 the bar fluctuates from ten to sixteen or eighteen feet deep, 
 and forms a great impediment to the navigation of this giant 
 river, which runs its rapid, turbid course of three thousand 
 miles, and is now the great thoroughfare of the growing em 
 pire of the "far West." 
 
 This bar makes a great source of employment and profit to 
 the steamboats ; but the expenses of the boats are prodigious, 
 the item of wood alone being about thirty cords a day while 
 towing. This, at the price which it sells at four or five 
 dollars a cord would alone amount to between one hundred 
 and one hundred and fifty dollars, and the other expenses in 
 proportion ; the high wages of engineers, and other items, would 
 make a sum of at least two hundred dollars per day, which 
 it takes to keep in motion these vast machines. The price 
 of towing is according to the tonnage of vessels, and with 
 lighterage, amounts frequently to five hundred dollars a ship. 
 The rate of lighterage is ten dollars an hour, and very many 
 large ships are obliged to take out several tons of cargo, and 
 replace it again when they have got into the river. 
 
 The top of the bar is composed of a hard crust, six inches 
 thick, and underneath this it is soft mud, so that it does not 
 much injure vessels to ground upon it, which they very often 
 do ; and those outward bound remain stuck sometimes for 
 five or six weeks. The water on the bar, we are told by the 
 pilot, is less than it was several years since, though it is very 
 fluctuating, new channels sometimes breaking through, and 
 affording a passage of sufficient depth. In 1721, there were 
 twenty-six feet of water on the bar, and in 1821, seventeen 
 feet. Now there are but twelve feet steadily upon it. A 
 strong southeast wind from the open sea, after continuing for 
 a few days raises the water to a very good height ; and a 
 freshet in the Mississippi, on the contrary, lessens it, by driv 
 ing the water of the sea back. 
 
 The water where we lay is very thick and muddy, and 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 149 
 
 nearly or quite as fresh as in the river, which is continu 
 ally discharging into the sea, with a current of four or 
 five miles an hour, a body of water a mile in width, and 
 fifteen or twenty fathoms deep. And yet, against this 
 strong current one of these powerful, high-pressure engines 
 will propel two or three ships, besides sometimes several 
 brigs or schooners of less burden. Such is the wonderful 
 triumph of man by the invention of the steam engine, over 
 such tremendously powerful physical forces, opposed to the 
 accomplishment of his vast and ever-restless designs, for 
 the fulfilment of which he uses and manages with admirable 
 adroitness all the elements of creation, air, fire, and water, 
 with the same ease and regularity that he curbs the motions 
 of his horse. How wonderful is man, but 0, the infinite 
 greatness of Him who made and endowed him with such god 
 like faculties ! 
 
 The appearance of the shore, from our place of anchorage, 
 is very flat and sunken, all the land to be seen having been 
 formed by the deposit of the Mississippi. New land at its 
 mouth is now to be seen in process of formation logs, snags, 
 and drift-wood being the nucleus around which the mud is de 
 posited. Flocks of pelicans resort to these islands, and they 
 fly in great numbers about us, screaming, and cawing, and 
 sometimes flying in Indian file like regular soldiers. 
 
 On Sunday, the day after our arrival, the captain left the 
 ship in order to get passage up to the city in a steamboat. He 
 wished us to go with him, as it might be, he said, the only 
 opportunity we should have before the ship was tow fc ed up ; 
 but this we declined doing for one of the best of reasons that 
 it would be a profanation of the holy Sabbath, which, though 
 others might violate it with impunity around us, we feel a 
 sacred obligation to respect and sanctify ; and as it turned 
 out,- it would have been of no advantage to us, for the cap 
 tain returned to the ship on Tuesday, and did not get passage 
 to the city till Thursday, when he went up in the tow-boat 
 
150 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Hudson, leaving the first mate, pro tempore, " a monarch 
 of all he surveyed" within the narrow limits of the ship, 
 from the bowsprit to the taffrail, and from the keel to the 
 main truck ; in the government of which domain he would be 
 pretty sure to go to the ne plus ultra of his temporary pre 
 rogative. 
 
 On Saturday, A. M., the Captain returned to the ship, with 
 the Hudson, which carried us to a safe roadstead near one of 
 the low islands, and lightened us of 425 casks of wine, lessening 
 our draft of water two feet. Sunday noon, the Hudson took 
 us over the bar in about twenty minutes, the keel of the Julia 
 touching slightly, our draft being reduced to thirteen feet. 
 The width of the bar, or of that part of it on which the water 
 is so shallow as to impede navigation, is about four ship s 
 lengths, or one-sixteenth of a mile wide. It extends quite 
 across the mouth of the S. "W. Pass, which is here a mile and 
 a half or two miles in width, and is now the principal mouth 
 of the Mississippi, and the only ship channel ; the N. E. and 
 S. E. Passes, from twelve or fifteen to twenty-five or thirty miles 
 further east, being navigable only for vessels of eight or ten 
 feet draft of water. 
 
 "We came to an anchor about five miles up the river, at a 
 small bayou or creek, where the pilots and a custom-house 
 boarding officer live, on the right side of the river, ascending 
 it. We dismissed our pilot at two o clock, and received a 
 visit from the boarding officer, who took a copy of the Cap 
 tain s manifest, and certified the list of his crew. After we 
 h-ad come to anchor, the men commenced removing back to 
 the ship a part of the casks of wine from the steamboat, and 
 the noise of the work, and their merry, but I am sorry to add, 
 ribald and profane songs, seemed little in consonance with the 
 stillness and sanctity of the holy Sabbath which they and their 
 officers were so grossly profaning. 
 
 About half past five, we got under way again, and at night 
 passed another steamboat with two ships in tow. There was 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 151 
 
 a fire burning among the reeds on shore, and some negroes 
 with a boat fastened near it. The light of the fire upon the 
 river and objects around, and on the two ships in tow of the 
 boat, with its loud and, I may truly say, monster-like puffing, 
 had a very novel and wild appearance. At ten in the even 
 ing, we took in tow, on the other side of the boat (making 
 three abreast with it), the ship " Orwell," of Hull, the same 
 that we spoke off Cuba. With this new tax upon his 
 strength, the blowing monster between us still urged on, 
 breasting up steadfastly against the rapid current, trium 
 phantly proving that wind and tide are no obstacles to the 
 power of steam. 
 
 The levee and sugar plantations of Louisiana begin about 
 forty-five or fifty miles from the mouth of the river, and the 
 former extends 200 miles above New-Orleans, and about sixty 
 below it, the city being 105 miles from the sea. The appear 
 ance of the plantations, as we passed up, was picturesque and 
 luxuriant, some of the planters houses handsome, and the 
 little huts for the negroes looked generally very thrifty and 
 comfortable. 
 
 We saw considerable numbers of the slaves at work in 
 the fields, men and women together, with an overseer hav 
 ing a whip in his hand, superintending their labor. But I 
 did not have the pleasure, in looking on these plantations, 
 (the effects of the compulsory labor of slaves without an ade 
 quate reward) that is experienced in beholding a thrifty New 
 England farm, worked by the free, unshackled, and well- 
 rewarded labor of men who have the " inalienable rights of 
 life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," stated to be such 
 in that noble document, the Declaration of American Inde 
 pendence, but with which our system of slavery is a most 
 palpable inconsistency. Oh ! that the time may soon come, 
 when this inconsistency shall no longer exist, but when those 
 long-denied, but still inalienable rights shall be rationally en 
 joyed by every creature under heaven made in the image of 
 
152 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 God. " Speed it, O Father ; let thy kingdom come ;" and 
 let the soul-debasing slavery of sin soon cease, and all man 
 kind be emancipated from its bondage into the pure and glo 
 rious liberty of the children of God ! 
 
 The banks of the river are orientally verdant, and in many 
 places bordered by forests of live oak, of which our navy is 
 built, and other trees. In this climate, the oak is covered in 
 all its foliage with a grey moss, that gives to the tree a sombre, 
 funereal appearance, something like the willow. At what is 
 called the English Turn, the river makes a great bend, form 
 ing a narrow peninsula, and varying in its course from about 
 N. and S. to E. and W. The current off this peninsula is 
 very strong, and our progress here, was very much diminished, 
 but by the overcoming power of steam we conquered it, and 
 were soon going at our usual rate, about four miles an hour 
 against a current of three. 
 
 New-Orleans, Wednesday evening, March 3Qth. Here, by 
 the unspeakable mercy of our heavenly Father, we safely 
 arrived on Monday night at the Levee, and landed yesterday 
 morning We are now at a comfortable boarding-house, recom 
 mended to us by Rev. Joel Parker, from whose acquaintance 
 and ministrations, we hope for much pleasure and benefit. 
 
 Yesterday was my birth-day, but I was so unwell, and 
 occupied by our new situation, as not to be able to spend it 
 as I wished. This evening I have renewed my covenant, and 
 enjoyed more freedom than for some time in prayer. Little 
 did I think my last birth- day, I should be in New Orleans 
 now ; and as little do I know or conjecture where I shall bo 
 my next one, if I am still continued in this probationary 
 world. I know not what will be the future course of either 
 of us from this city. May the Lord who alone can direct the 
 steps of a man, guide both my own, and those of my dear 
 brother in the way most for his glory and our best good. 
 
 New Orleans, April 3rd, Sabbath evening. I would joy 
 fully record the unspeakable goodness of God in again per- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 153 
 
 mittiug me, in company with my dear brother, to hear, from 
 an evangelical, Christian pulpit, the glad sound of the gospel, 
 and again to unite with the people of God, after more than 
 nine months 7 deprivation of this affecting service, in partak 
 ing of the sacred emblems of our Saviour s dying love. We 
 this morning attended divine service at Mr. Parker s church, 
 and were edified by him with a most excellent discourse from 
 Ephesians ii. 8. In the afternoon there was no sermon, but 
 after reading the Bible with illustratory remarks and prayer, 
 the sacrament of the Lord s Supper was administered to 
 a large number of communicants in the presence of the con 
 gregation assembled. Well might we, on this occasion, enter 
 into his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise. 
 
 New Orleans, April Sth. On Thursday Henry obtained 
 two good saddle-horses, and we set off soon after break 
 fast, on a tour of observation round the city. We first 
 turned our attention to the Orleans Cotton Press, about a 
 mile from the centre of the city an immense structure of 
 brick, seven hundred feet front and four hundred and eighty 
 deep, in the form of a hollow square, leaving a large open 
 court in the centre, with two wings extending into it from the 
 main front next the river. The force of a powerful steam- 
 engine is here applied to the, screws by means of cog-wheels, 
 and raises and depresses them with great rapidity and power. 
 Several large vessels were loading with cotton from the press, 
 which is owned by a company with a capital of seven hundred 
 thousand dollars, and rented by them to individuals, and 
 capable of containing a prodigious number of bales. 
 
 From thence we went to the engine of the water-works, 
 which is in the same the upper part of the city and 
 twenty or thirty rods from the river. It is in a brick build 
 ing, two or three stories in height, and by means of exhaust 
 ing the air with a horizontal piston from pipes laid to the 
 river, brings up the water, and forces it into others laid to 
 the top of an artificial mound, about an eighth or sixteenth 
 7* 
 
154: MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 of a mile further back, from whence it is to be distributed in 
 other pipes to the city. 
 
 The mound, which was commenced about two years 
 since, is three hundred feet square at the base, two hun 
 dred and forty at the top, and twenty-five feet above the 
 level of the land around. It is surmounted with four 
 brick cisterns or reservoirs, plastered with Roman cement, 
 intended to be each twelve feet high, and about one 
 hundred or one hundred and twenty feet square. Two of 
 them are now finished to the height of eight feet, as far as 
 they intend at present to carry them, and each is capable 
 of containing one million gallons of water a supply for the 
 city, supposing every family to take it, for three days ; so 
 that when they are all filled, the water in each cistern may 
 be settling for nine days, and the sand thus deposited by the 
 Mississippi is to be washed out through a pipe at the end of 
 each reservoir, and being very valuable for mortar, may, it is 
 calculated, be sold for at least a bit (twelve and a half cents) 
 a load, thus making it a source of income. These works 
 will soon be in operation, and will supply the new, spa 
 cious baths at Caldwell s theatre, and will probably be 
 excellent stock to the company of the Commercial Bank, 
 who are the builders of this fine monument of utility, human 
 labor, and skill. 
 
 We have seen, even during our short stay, the degrading, 
 brutifying influence of slavery, by observing the manners and 
 appearance of the slaves their coarse, vacant laugh their 
 profane, vulgar conversation, and general behaviour : all show 
 a lowness of being, and moral degradation most painful to 
 witness, but the natural and legitimate result of the dark, 
 oppressed condition in which they are kept. 
 
 To the political economist, the alarming increase of this 
 population affords an appalling subject of contemplation ; 
 and to the Christian and philanthropist, it opens a wide field 
 of benevolent effort for their peaceful emancipation, and pre- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 155 
 
 paration to enjoy the blessings of rational liberty. May such 
 schemes be speedily devised, as shall be blessed by God to 
 the entire remedy of this great evil, and the re^establishment 
 of so large a number of his creatures in their long-desired 
 liberty and happiness. 
 
 We visited also the New Orleans Burying-grounds. These, 
 both Catholic and Protestant, are situated in the edge of 
 the swamp, just back of the city. Those who are able, 
 build monuments for the dead on the surface, as the earth, 
 at the depth of only eight or ten inches, is so full of water 
 as to make it necessary to put in stones or other heavy 
 articles to sink the coffins, which frequently rise. 
 
 The Protestant Bury ing-ground has walls ten or twelve feet 
 thick, where the bodies are deposited in niches, after the same 
 manner as in the cemetery at Malaga. In this ground lie 
 the bones of very many young men from New England, who 
 have been cut down in the vigor and beauty of manhood, by 
 the relentless stroke of death, through his dreadful ministers 
 of fever and pestilence, which have here most truly been glutted 
 with victims. 
 
 Canal street runs in a direct line from the river to the 
 swamp, which is about half a mile back from it, and with 
 Rampart street at right angles, and Espinal parallel, includes 
 the city Proper, in its original limits under the French, about 
 one half or three fourths of a mile square, but which have 
 now enlarged to a great extent, as the city and its faubourgs 
 extend from one and a half to two miles up and down the 
 river, which is lined for that space more or less thickly by 
 forests of shipping and steamboats, besides the arks and flat- 
 boats from the upper country. These streets are all double, 
 and have, between the two carriage ways, several rows of 
 trees, much in the manner of the French Boulevards, in Espi 
 nal street, they are very flourishing, and form a healthy and 
 delightful ornament to the city. 
 
156 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 In a letter to his Mother, written about the same 
 time with these extracts from the Journal, he says : 
 
 All the humane feelings of our souls were aroused at wit 
 nessing last week, at a slave-auction, those having the form 
 and lineaments of our common humanity, placed on the 
 stand, before the unfeeling multitude, their good qualities 
 mentioned, and their defects pointed out like as of brutes, 
 and knocked off in the same manner with land and other pro 
 perty, which were selling in the same room. A family of 
 father, mother, and three pretty negro boys, were sold to one 
 man for $2,600. They all seemed unconscious of their de 
 graded condition. One of the women who was sold, and 
 seemed to be the grandmother of the children, kissed and 
 embraced them in a most affecting manner, and her aged 
 frame seemed to shake with her strong emotions. Truly this 
 indignant sight made our hearts weep ; and we felt ashamed, 
 and blushed to think ourselves of the same race with those 
 who cause such scenes, and all the ignorance, degradation, 
 and wickedness attached to this corrupt system. 
 
 The weather here is warm and pleasant, and the earth and 
 trees are covered with a beautiful robe of green ; I have 
 wished to defer my return to New England, till its damp, 
 cold spring has well emerged from the ice and snow-drifts of 
 such a tremendous winter as you have experienced. When 
 you receive this, I shall probably be on the ocean, enjoying 
 its healthy breezes, as the ship I have engaged passage in, 
 sails by the middle of next week. Do not be anxious for 
 me, dear Mother, but commit us both to the hitherto never- 
 failing care of our heavenly Father. The accommodations 
 of the ship are good, the captain is a pleasant looking man, 
 having his wife with him ; and the heart of a woman, if not 
 a traitor to her sex, may generally be depended upon for 
 kindness and sympathy, when such are required. 
 
 In this connection, on account of its biographical 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 157 
 
 value, and the natural revelation it affords of cha 
 racter, we have not felt at liberty to suppress the fol 
 lowing letter. The warm, fraternal affection and piety 
 it breathes, were no spring freshet in the mind of the 
 writer, but such was its perennial* flow. How grateful 
 it was to share and enjoy it, few can tell. To the com 
 panion of his boyhood, and of his travels abroad in 
 quest of health, the separation that now ensued, 
 while it was felt to be necessary, w T as peculiarly pain 
 ful. The one remained in Louisiana to engage in 
 teaching ; the beloved invalid was left to pursue his 
 homeward voyage alone. 
 
 Monday, A.M., April 2oth, 1836. 
 
 At anchor in the river, just below the city of New Orleans. 
 
 DEAR, DEAR HENRY Here we have been laying at an 
 chor all night, waiting for the steamboat s men, who have 
 just now as I write, half past ten, come on board, arid we 
 are now getting under way. We dropped off from the Levee 
 about twenty minutes after you left last night, and came to 
 an anchor on the opposite side of the river, a quarter of a 
 mile below where we lay when I watched your retreat 
 ing steps, and turned and found myself alone, without the 
 dear brother whose sweet society I have so long enjoyed. As 
 to my feelings in parting from you, dear Henry, if I should 
 allow them full sway, they would altogether destroy my equa 
 nimity ; but I restrain them, and find relief in committing 
 you entirely to the watchful care of our heavenly Father, 
 who has exercised it with so much tenderness ever since we 
 have been together. 
 
 How great has been his goodnees in permitting us to be 
 so long together, and granting us both such unspeakable 
 mercies ! Oh ! dear Henry, the loving-kindness and tender 
 mercy of God have been exceeding great to both of us ; 
 
158 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 and, dear brother, let it lead us to a new and entire con 
 secration of all that we have and are to him. Let us hence 
 forth be more pure and spiritual in our thoughts, more watch 
 ful and circumspect in our behavior, and manifest more in 
 all our ways, the temper and deportment of true, devoted 
 Christians. I do hope this will be the case, and that we 
 shall both gird up the loins of our mind, shake off our spiri 
 tual sloth, fix steadfastly our souls upon the heavenly prize , 
 and march boldly and rapidly forward in the road to its 
 attainment, counting all things else of inferior, subordinate 
 importance to this blessed purpose. 
 
 What a sweet consolation it is, that we can both have 
 access to a throne of grace through the precious, atoning 
 blood of our Almighty Saviour. Let me be where I may, 
 at the Sandwich Islands or at home, his care extends equally 
 to all places ; and everywhere can I pray for, and commend 
 you to him, and you can do so in like manner for me. Let 
 us be often at the mercy-seat, and pray much for ourselves 
 and each other, with " all prayer and supplication." 
 
 We are now rapidly going down the river, having a square- 
 rigged brig abreast of us on the other side of the steamboat, 
 and two brigs and a schooner behind. The forest of masts at 
 New Orleans has already disappeared from my view, and 
 distance, dear brother, is rapidly increasing between us ; 
 but, though absent in body, may we be present in spirit, and 
 enjoy sweet communion at the throne of grace. I shall try 
 and be as cheerful as I can, though I can assure you it 
 is " tuff" enough, dear Henry, without you. What a good 
 brother you have been to me ! Pray for me, that I may have 
 the presence of Christ, and the support of His love. Oh, my 
 dear brother, how I love, and long even now to see you ; but 
 I must repress my desires, and be quiet. 
 
 Thus, you see, instead of half a sheet, I have nearly filled 
 a whole one, and I shall feel at closing this letter like again 
 parting with you, but must leave space to add a few words 
 
OF NATHANIEL CITEEYEE, M.D. 159 
 
 when the boat leaves us at the bar. Dear Henry, that the 
 Lord may ever keep you by his grace from all sin and temp 
 tation, and guide you by heavenly wisdom in all your ways, 
 and make you faithful to him, and all things to work for 
 your best good, is the earnest, constant prayer of your most 
 tenderly affectionate brother. 
 
 Tuesday, A.M. When I had finished writing yesterday, 
 P. M., all the drear feelings of home-sickness, or rather 
 of sickness to see you, came over me, and it was with great 
 difficulty I restrained them ; but I " turned to," and add 
 ed up our accounts. Remember all I have said to you 
 about everything, and be very careful of your health. Oh ! 
 my dear brother, you seem dearer to me than ever ; but we 
 must love no earthly object too strongly. Let us nail our 
 affections to the cross of Christ, whose love is stronger than 
 death, and from whom, if we are united to him by true faith, 
 we can never, never be separated, not even by the roar and 
 din of a dissolving world. Oh, let us commune much with 
 Jesus, our blessed Saviour, make him our friend, and then 
 shall we have one indeed that will never fail us. Let us both 
 strive to be fitted for that blessed world where the parting 
 word shall be unknown, and sin and sorrow never enter. Do 
 not be too anxious, but commit me calmly to God, who has 
 taken care of me thus far. 
 
 We resume here the Private Journal, which, from 
 the time of his arrival at New Orleans, and renewed 
 experience of suffering with his malady, is more than 
 ordinarily pervaded with tenderness and resignation 
 to the Divine will. Passing over the entries made in 
 Louisiana, and at the period when providential cir 
 cumstances, and a wise regard to the future, made it 
 suitable that the brothers should separate, we open it 
 again at sea. 
 
160 MEMOKIAU3 OF THE LIFE 
 
 At sea, May 15th, 1836. I have had a slight attack of 
 asthma this last week, but am to-day better, and have en 
 joyed a comfortable Sabbath. Thanks be to God, in the 
 absence of all my earthly friends, I can hold communion with 
 him, and enjoy the sweet, unspeakable privilege of prayer. 
 And, oh, what a glorious privilege it is ! What a blessed 
 means of grace ! Though in the midst of profane and wicked 
 men, if the Christian humbly and earnestly improve this 
 heavenly privilege, he may pass unscathed in the midst of 
 their depravity, walking by faith and having his life hid with 
 Christ in God. Oh Lord, grant me more zeal and earnest 
 ness to improve this blessed gift, and to be more watchful 
 and holy in all my life. " O for a closer walk with God." 
 In two Sabbaths from this, I may possibly, by the blessing of 
 God, be with my beloved relatives. I do not return with all 
 that improvement in my health which was hoped for from the 
 measures that have been adopted. No ; though somewhat 
 better, and for as much as I am I would be sincerely thank 
 ful, I am still, at intervals, a sufferer, and sometimes a severe 
 one, from the attacks of my indomitable disorder, which 
 tenaciously -clings to me like the wild beast to its prey. 
 Oh, heavenly Father, who layest upon me this affliction, grant 
 unto me meekness and resignation to bear, and grace to im 
 prove it to thy glory and my best good. 
 
 Boston, May 29th, Sabbath evening. " Here I raise my 
 Ebenezer, hither by thine help I m come ; and I hope, by thy 
 good pleasure, safely to arrive at home." Well may this be 
 the language of my heart, in view of the exceeding goodness 
 of God in preserving me safe from all the perils of the sea, 
 and permitting me again to set foot upon the solid land. We 
 arrived in the harbor of Boston last Sunday noon. I came 
 on shore at half past four in the afternoon. This last week I 
 have had " a feast of fat things" in the religious anniversaries 
 of this city, which I seemed providentially to have arrived in 
 season to attend. To-day I have had the rich, spiritual 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVKR, M.D. 161 
 
 treat, of hearing two most excellent discourses from Hev. Dr. 
 Tucker, of Troy, in the A. M. from the text, Col. i. 27, 
 " Which is Christ in you the hope of glory," in the P. M 
 from the 51st Psalm, "Restore unto me the joys of thy sal 
 vation" both pregnant with sound experimental truth, which 
 it was a spiritual feast for me to hear. 
 
 I have had a most happy Sabbath I think the most so of any 
 in my life, except those that immediately followed my spiritual 
 birth. Indeed, the whole week, take it all together, has been one 
 of the happiest I ever spent. I have felt all day to sing the 
 praises of God for his abounding goodness to me ; and have 
 had sweet communion with Christ my blessed Saviour, to 
 whom I have this afternoon renewedly consecrated all that I 
 am, and all that I have, to be forever and entirely his ; and, 
 I think, never did I do it with more entire sincerity, greater 
 delight and spiritual enjoyment. Oh, what a blessed privilege 
 it is to surrender to God s disposal all that we have and are ! 
 Jesus, my God, to thee I consecrate my heart, my life, my 
 soul, my being : thine ne er to part. 
 
 u The Lord has breathed upon a worm, 
 
 And sent me, from above, 
 Wings such as clothe an angel s form, 
 The wings of joy and love. 
 
 With these to Pisgah s top I fly, 
 
 And there delighted stand, 
 To view beneath a shining sky, 
 
 The spacious promised land 
 
 The Lord of all the vast domain 
 
 Has promised it to me ; 
 The length and breadth of all the plain, 
 
 As far as faith can see. 
 
 Though much exalted in the Lord, 
 My strength is not my own ; 
 
 Then let me tremble at his word, 
 And none shall cast me down," 
 
MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 FOBMATION OF CHARACTER THROUGH SUFFERING AT 
 HOME AND ABROAD. 
 
 suffering, how much to thee I owe, 
 Though dark thou be ; 
 
 The lessons it imports me most to know, 
 
 I owe to thee ! 
 A sacred seminary thou hast been, 
 
 1 trust, to train me to a happier scene. 
 
 In time of illness, suffering and alone, 
 
 My friends withdrawn, 
 The blessed beams of heavenly truth have shone 
 
 On me, forlorn ! 
 
 With such a hallowed vividness and power 
 As ne er were granted to a brighter hour. 
 
 ANON. 
 
 How closely the experience recorded in this bio 
 graphy corresponds with that traced in these lines, 
 has been already seen, and it will be yet more appa 
 rent in the present chapter. Affliction always has 
 more to do in the formation of character and habits, 
 than we are aware of. Cecil says, " J^ever was there 
 a man of deep piety who has not been brought into 
 extremities who has not been put into the fire who 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 163 
 
 has not been taught to say, Though he slay me, yet 
 will I trust in him. " The general experience of God s 
 people endorses this : it is in the furnace that their 
 gold is tried, separated, and refined. It is in afflic 
 tion that we learn God s statutes ; there it is that 
 they are indelibly written, as with the point of a 
 diamond, on the tablet of our hearts. The beloved 
 subject of these memorials might have written what 
 he often felt : 
 
 O sacred suffering ! In that bright abode 
 
 Where there is no more pain, 
 If through the merits of my Saviour-God 
 
 A seat I gain, 
 
 This theme shall tune my golden harp s soft lays, 
 That in thy shelter passed my early days. 
 
 It was undoubtedly by suffering in his early days, 
 and by suffering protracted into manhood, that he was 
 sanctified. He used often to say with Jeremiah^ 
 though never complaining, " I am the man that hath 
 seen affliction. Correct me, but not with anger, lest 
 thou bring me to nothing." It was his constant prayer 
 that his affliction might not be lost, and the senti 
 ments, if not the language of a Scripture sonnet, were 
 often on his lips : 
 
 We need not ask for suffering ; when its test 
 
 Comes, we may prove too faithless to endure. 
 We need not ask for suffering; it were best 
 
 We wait God s holy orderings to ensure 
 Our highest good. But we may ask from him, 
 
 That not one throb of grief, one dart of pain, 
 One burning throb of anguish, pierce in vain 
 
 This feeble being in its faith so dim 
 
164: MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 This fainting frame, or this o er-burdened heart, 
 We may implore him he would grace impart, 
 And strength to suffer still as the beloved 
 
 Of his own bosom. For of all below, 
 
 The one affliction in this world of woe 
 Most sad, is an affliction unimproved. 
 
 There is abundant evidence in the case of which 
 this volume is a memorial, that by the grace of God, 
 affliction was so improved as to be transmuted into a 
 blessing the trial turned into a triumph. The first 
 Sabbath after his arrival in Boston, he solemnly re 
 newed his covenant with his Maker in the following 
 terms, filed among his papers, and entitled, 
 
 A SOLEMN BUT CHEERFUL DEDICATION OF ALL THAT I AM 
 AND HAVE TO GOD, AND COVENANT WITH HIM, TO BE HIS 
 FOR TIME AND ETERNITY. 
 
 Oh, thou Righteous, All-seeing, and Omnipresent God ! 
 Thou, in the beginning, didst bring me into this probationary 
 world ! Thou watchedst over me during the critical period 
 of infancy ! thou hast protected me from all the accidents, 
 and in all the dangers to which I have been exposed ; hast 
 shielded me from the shafts of death, which have flown thick 
 around me ; hast said unto the waves of disease that have 
 well-nigh overwhelmed me, " Hitherto shall ye come, and no 
 farther ;" and having obtained help of thee, I continue unto 
 this day. Notwithstanding all my enormous guilt, which 
 might have provoked thee to the utmost extent of thy right 
 eous wrath, and sunk me to endless ruin, in the regions of 
 despair, where hope never comes, I am yet alive, and in the 
 enjoyment of blessings of invaluable worth thy holy Word, 
 which is able to guide me in the way of life, and thy Gospel, 
 which bringeth the good news and glad tidings of a Saviour s 
 righteousness. It is not on account of any works or wor- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 165 
 
 thiness of my own, that I am not in a land where heathenish 
 darkness and idolatry prevail, and that I am in a part of the 
 world where the blessed light of the Gospel is enjoyed to its 
 full extent ; but it is of thy rich, free, sovereign mercy and grace. 
 And it was only thy matchless love that ever inclined my 
 heart (as I hope it has been) to accept of salvation thus, 
 freely offered. 
 
 Why am I not in the condition of thousands around me, 
 who hear the same precious invitations, but still reject them ? 
 Oh Lord, I can only answer, " By thy free grace am I saved, 
 and that not of myself, it is the gift of God." Lord, I have 
 again and again, privately and publicly, before God, men, and 
 angels, solemnly dedicated myself to thy service and glory, 
 to be thy faithful servant as long as I live ; and though I 
 have been most faithless to my covenant engagements 
 though thou mightest justly forbid me ever to take 
 thy name upon my lips, and forever shut me out from 
 thy presence and blessings, yet I thank thee, oh Lord, I 
 thank thee that I have been permitted so to do. Blessed be 
 thy name, that thou ever disposedst me thus, and that I now 
 feel disposed to come and renew my covenant with thee. 
 Thou, oh Lord, art the author of all the good dispositions of 
 my heart ; they are not of my own creation. I am naturally 
 vile, conceived in sin, shapen in iniquity, full of all unclean- 
 ness and deadly impurity. I bless thee that though sin re- 
 iijaineth in me, and to a lamentable degree, yet that I have 
 ever felt (as I hope I have) the purifying, sanctifying appli 
 cation of a Saviour s atoning blood, and that I am permitted 
 daily to wash my soul in that precious fountain. And, O 
 God, do thou now forgive, for thy dear Son s sake, my Re 
 deemer and Mediator, all my sins of every nature that I have 
 ever committed, whether of thought, word, or deed, aggra 
 vated and numberless as they are. Oh, for Jesus sake for 
 give them, and wash away all my guilty stains in his cleans 
 ing, atoning blood. 
 
166 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 I would, I do now unreservedly and forever dedicate my 
 self to thee, and to thy service to the performance and suf 
 fering of thy holy will. I would henceforward feel that I am 
 not my own but thine that I am not placed here for the 
 accomplishment of my own selfish desires and purposes, but 
 for thy glory to accomplish thy will, whatever it may be, 
 and in whatever way thou mayest appoint. I take the Lord 
 Jesus Christ to be my Saviour, Priest, and King, and would 
 obey his Gospel, and walk in his footsteps. I take the Holy 
 Spirit to be my sanctifier, comforter, and guide. I pray 
 that my heart may be made a meet temple for his residence, 
 and that he may dwell therein continually. And oh, heaven 
 ly Comforter, do thou help me to fulfil faithfully all the obli 
 gations of this covenant, and all others that are binding upon 
 me to the very end of my life. And iu the solemn, trying 
 hour of death, do thou, Holy Spirit, fill my soul with firm, 
 unwavering faith in Jesus, my blessed Redeemer, with de 
 lightful, rapturous thoughts, and unutterable foretastes of 
 heavenly bliss, with calm, serene peace, of which the pangs 
 of death cannot rob me. 
 
 Oh blessed Saviour and Redeemer, put underneath me 
 thine everlasting arms, and sustain me under the pains of 
 dissolving nature, and " though I walk through the dark 
 valley and shadow of death, may I fear no evil ; thy rod and 
 thy staff may they comfort me." And, Holy Trinity, 
 unitedly and separately, help me to keep unbroken this cove 
 nant to resist all temptations to sin, and join to give me 
 strength in my dying hour ; and may I glorify God in my 
 dying conduct, and bear abundant and indisputable evidence 
 of the power and blessedness of the religion of Christ. And 
 may this my covenant, made on earth, be ratified in heaven. 
 Oh God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, be with me in all my 
 earthly pilgrimage, be it long or soon to come to a close, and 
 in death, and finally receive me to the enjoyment of everlast 
 ing glory and happiness. Amen. NATHANIEL CHEEVER. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEB, M.D. 167 
 
 This covenant was drawn up on the third anniversary of 
 the solemn dedication of myself to God ; has since been 
 many times solemnly renewed, and I have now transcribed it 
 from my diary, and again renewed it with prayer and solem 
 nity this day, Saturday, June 20th, 1835. Oh, Divine Spirit, 
 assist me to keep its solemn requirements. 
 
 At Malaga, Friday, August 2lst, 1835. I have this day 
 renewed my covenant, and do thou, oh God, assist me by thy 
 powerful grace to live according to its tenor in the mkfst of 
 the new circumstances of trial and temptation in which I am 
 now placed. I renewed this solemn covenant on its fifth 
 anniversary, Sunday, November 15th, 1835, at Malaga. 
 
 New Orleans, March 30th, 1836, Wednesday evening. 
 Safely preserved from all the dangers of the great deep, and 
 brought yesterday to this port in peace, I have now solemnly 
 renewed my covenant ; and oh, gracious God, grant me grace 
 cheerfully and faithfully to fulfil it, in the midst of the cor 
 ruption and temptation of this wicked world. 
 
 Boston, May 29th, 1836, Sabbath P. M. This day would 
 I most gratefully erect another Ebenezer to commemorate the 
 unutterable goodness of God in permitting me, last Sabbath, 
 again to set foot on my native shores ; and in. thankful acknow 
 ledgment of his unnumbered mercies, I have, with much spiri 
 tual joy, again renewed this solemn covenant, and I think I 
 never felt to do it with more delightful sincerity and unre- 
 servedness than I have this afternoon. Oh, the joy of an 
 entire and eternal consecration of soul and body to Jesus, 
 and the blessed calmness and serenity that follows such a con- 
 secratiot. 
 
 Jesus now am I thine, 
 
 Thine would I ever be, 
 Thine through all fleeting time, 
 
 Thine in eternity. 
 
 At aboiit the same time with this entry in the 
 
168 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Journal, is the date of a letter to his brother in "New 
 Orleans, from which, we copy the following ex 
 tracts : 
 
 You will be able to conceive the loneliness of my feelings 
 yesterday on stepping ashore alone, a poor, weak invalid, 
 without any dear friend to speak to, and without you who 
 have been a partaker in all the various changes of situation 
 and circumstances, which we have mutually undergone during 
 the past year. I am now but just recovering from a pretty 
 severe attack of my inveterate malady, which came on the 
 few last days of our passage. Indeed, I was not well for 
 most the voyage. All the time I felt anxious about you, 
 although I can commit and commend you to God, who has 
 now again added to his mercies in permitting me to land safe 
 from all the dangers of the sea, which, perhaps, have been 
 more upon this voyage than any other, as we have been much 
 of the time on soundings, and not a great distance from land ; 
 and to this circumstance I greatly attribute it that I have 
 not experienced more benefit from the voyage, though for a 
 part of it I was finely. We had one rain squall in the Gulf 
 of Mexico, which was more severe, I think, than any you or 
 I ever witnessed ; and even our captain, who has been to sea 
 for about twenty-five years, and master of a vessel for 
 twenty-two, seemed to think it something. It blew into rib 
 bons almost instantly, our jib and foro-top sail, which burst 
 with the report of a gun. But the Lord, in much mercy, 
 preserved us from the violence of the winds and the waves ; 
 and to him be the praise. 
 
 My fellow passenger, though a distiller of New Orleans 
 rum, was a very shrewd, intelligent man, and I obtained from 
 him much valuable information. I wrote about twenty-eight 
 or thirty pages in my Journal on the passage, and was finish 
 ing up when a new battery opened upon me from my old 
 enemy, the asthma, whose iron grasp still clinches me with 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEE, M.D. 169 
 
 the hold of a screw-vice, or rather with a strength that I 
 find language inadequate to express. Yet I think, in 
 looking back, that I am, on the whole, much better than 
 when I was here last year on our way to embark ; and do 
 not, dear brother, be too much grieved that this expedition 
 has not been blessed to the wished-for extent ; but let us 
 both be deeply and humbly grateful to God, that he has per 
 mitted us to return at all, and in the enjoyment of so many 
 great blessings. 
 
 My spirits are and have been good, and I felt the bless 
 ing and comfort, on the voyage, of a throne of grace to resort 
 to, of an inward life of my own, and communion with God, 
 our Saviour. I think I can, with faith, commit my soul 
 entirely to him ; I had some very pleasant feelings during 
 the severe squall, ~and felt like saying, " Into thy hands, O 
 Lord, I commit my spirit," for we were for some minutes in 
 great danger of going to the bottom. That beautiful hymn, 
 " Jesus my God, I know his name," came very appro 
 priately to my mind, and dear brother, it is in such moments 
 as these that we feel our need of something more than human 
 support, and of a calm and happy prospect beyond the reach 
 of death and sin. Let us both continually cultivate an humble 
 spirit of prayer, and a deep sense of eternal realities, and then 
 shall we be best prepared for our duties in this life, and above 
 all, for happiness and glory beyond it. 
 
 I am sorry that you should now be grieved by hearing, as 
 you have been during the past year by seeing me a severe 
 sufferer under the distressing asthma, which you have with so 
 much tenderness and assiduity tried to alleviate ; but so it is ; 
 this incubus, this mountain-weight upon my bodily and mental 
 activity, still maintains its seat, and seems sometimes as though 
 it would press me into the grave. But thanks be to God, I 
 trust through his grace, I have a support, a blessed buoy which 
 will sustain and elevate my soul in all the deep waters of af 
 fliction that I may yet have to pass through, and in the stnig- 
 8 
 
170 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 gle with the cold billows of Jordan, which I may soon en 
 ter. 
 
 In this connection, as revealing his love for souls, 
 his fidelity to his Master, and his deep interest for the 
 personal salvation of all with whom he had inter 
 course, we insert the following copy of a note found 
 among his papers, to a Spanish gentleman, with whom 
 he had been taking lessons in music : 
 
 Boston, June 1st, 1836. 
 
 SEXOR DON ANGUERA Mi CARO SE^OR I expect to 
 leave the city in a day or two, and shall not have the great 
 pleasure of taking any more lessons on the guitar, but hope 
 again to repeat them in a few weeks. I believe I settled with 
 you for all I took, and for everything else. And now, dear 
 sir, permit me kindly to ask, if you and I should never meet 
 again in this world more, where do you think we should meet 
 in heaven or hell ? in a world of peace and purity, or in one 
 of u endless ruin, deep despair ?" Oh, my dear sir, this is an 
 awfully solemn question, and one that it behooves each one of 
 us to answer as in the sight of God, who is to be the judge. In 
 Jesus Christ there is happiness and peace ; and " there is no 
 other name given among men whereby we can be saved." Oh, 
 lot both, dear sir, seek and find an interest in him, and then 
 all will be well with us, whether we meet again in this world 
 or not. May this blessed hope which, by the unutterable 
 mercy of (rod I enjoy, be yours, and then shall we meet in 
 heaven, and tune our harps to his praise. Yours truly, 
 
 N. C. 
 
 The ensuing summer, spent under the maternal roof, 
 was one of much suffering, but also of strong consolation, 
 to which there are allusions in the following letter to 
 his eldest brother at Salem. It was a trial all the 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 171 
 
 more painful to him, that his continued and alarming 
 ill health now rendered it necessary to detach his 
 brother awhile from his ministerial charge, in order to 
 accompany him to sea. This course was clearly in 
 dicated by Providence, and preparations were accord 
 ingly made for it. 
 
 Hallowell, August 3rd, 1836. 
 
 MOST DEARLY BELOVED BROTHER Physical inability alone 
 has prevented me from writing hitherto. I have suffered very 
 severely for several weeks from my asthma, which seems almost 
 to have become habitual, and to have been aggravated instead 
 of relieved, as we hoped, by my visit to Harpswell. But this 
 goes nothing against a long sea voyage, since you well know, 
 and I from experience, the vast difference in the air on and off 
 soundings. 
 
 I long to reciprocate your kind attentions, and to talk to you 
 freely of our Blessed Redeemer, and the consolations of His 
 presence which He has mercifully permitted me to enjoy during 
 my severe sufferings. the blessedness of His love, and the 
 sacred consolations He can afford to the weary soul. I some 
 times feel almost constrained to cry out " Friends, is not 
 my case amazing, what a Saviour I have found?" And I 
 have felt much of the spirit of those other lines " that all 
 the blind but knew him" for I have longed that others should 
 come and drink of this water, which is indeed a well of ever 
 lasting life. I think I have enjoyed much of the serene 
 spirit of resignation, and pray that I may have it more and 
 more under this, and all other trials which the Lord, in His 
 Holy Providence, may see fit to lay upon me. 
 
 I seem to be between two or three fires. It would be delightful 
 to spend the winter with uncle at Malaga, and inexpressibly sweet 
 to remain by the fireside at home with dear Mother and E. and 
 all our domestic endearments ; but my stern, unrelenting dis 
 order, says " GO TO SEA," and this I feel to Tbe my duty, 
 
172 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 notwithstanding the great sacrifice of feeling and inclination it 
 will require. 
 
 Passing over the remainder of the summer, we re 
 sume the private journal, still in the bosom of his 
 childhood s home, on the Kennebec. 
 
 October 6th, 1836. I am expecting to leave in about ten 
 days, to embark for Malaga, with my beloved brother George, 
 who will go from thence to other parts of Europe. I have 
 been four months enjoying the delightful privileges and kindly 
 influences of home ; and now, that I am again going abroad, I 
 need most urgently a renewed supply of heavenly wisdom and 
 grace, and well I know that is not to be obtained but by 
 earnest, humble perseverance in prayer. I need much wisdom 
 and prudence to curb my naturally rather rash and imprudent 
 temperament. Let me constantly aim at meekness and 
 humility in my heart, and modesty and gentleness in my man 
 ners. u Let me be slow to speak, and swift to hear." It is 
 my failing on many occasions to speak too much, and now let 
 me try and cure it. 
 
 At sea, skip Empress, Dec. 4tk, 1836. This is our seventeenth 
 day from New York, and by the Lord s unspeakable goodness 
 we have been preserved from all accident, having experienced 
 some very severe weather. The sea has had its former good 
 effects upon my health, and I have great reason for gratitude. 
 that I could perceive an increase of spiritual health ! but 
 here I most urgently need the invigorating influence of the 
 Holy Spirit, to quicken me heavenward, and break up my 
 habits of spiritual sloth. I want to set the Lord always be 
 fore me, to keep near to Christ every moment by faith and 
 prayer. 
 
 The city of Malaga was again reached in safety by 
 the two brothers, and a residence there was found yet 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 173 
 
 more salubrious than before, to the invalid. The let 
 ters and Journal of travel and observations . relating 
 to this period we pass over, because, though full of 
 information and interest, they do not exhibit the cha 
 racter of the writer in any new light, nor do they 
 bear in any important degree upon the future. 
 
 The year 1837 opened propitiously with cheering 
 prospects of health upon its wings, and with hope and 
 gratitude swelling in the heart. The expectations of 
 friends and physician were sanguine and seemingly 
 well founded, that a year s continued residence in the 
 genial climate of far-famed Andalusia, at the critical 
 period when he was passing from youth to manhood, 
 would quite establish his constitution, and win a quit 
 claim deed from its tenacious invader, the asthma. 
 So hoped and earnestly prayed himself and his kin 
 dred. A record in the Private Journal early in the 
 month of January, says : 
 
 Another year has commenced its course, and finds me in 
 company with my beloved brother, at my Uncle s house, with 
 great reason to feel deeply and speak much of the goodness 
 of God. I have not suffered a severe attack of my asthma 
 since I arrived, although I was then just recovering from one 
 that came on the few last days of our voyage. I am reading 
 Philip s " Love of the Spirit" an excellent, experimental work. 
 Oh that I experienced more of the love of the Spirit in my own 
 soul. It is an unworthy temple, and entertains guests with 
 which he cannot abide. Oh Lord, help me to arise, and drive 
 away these sinful intruders. Oh, purify my heart from all 
 sin, and make it indeed a temple meet for the residence of the 
 Holy Spirit. 
 
174: MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Thy mansion is the Christian s heart, 
 
 Lord, thy dwelling-place secure ! 
 Bid the unruly throng depart, 
 
 And leave the consecrated door. 
 Oh, for the joy thy presence gives, 
 
 What peace shall reign when thoU art here 1 
 Thy presence makes this den of thieve* 
 
 A calm delightful house of prayer. 
 
 In a new volume of his second Journal, intended 
 for friends, and affectionately dedicated to his next 
 elder brother, there is a very particular and full 
 account of his visit to the ancient Capital of the Moors 
 in Spain, and of all that was to be seen there. But the 
 architectural remains, and legends, and lovely scenery 
 of Granada and the Alhambra, have been so often 
 described, that we omit all but the mere itinerary of 
 his route to Granada and return. 
 
 Malaga, March 3lst. Since I last wrote, I have had the 
 great pleasure of visiting, with my dear brother, the imperial 
 city of G-ranada, far and justly famed for the beauty of its Moor 
 ish palace, the Alhambra. Having made our arrangements for 
 departure on the previous day, on Tuesday, the 21st of this 
 month, we started upon our journey, our party consisting of Dr. 
 "Woodworth, of the United States Navy, George, and myself, 
 with our amusing cochero Bautista, a native of Genoa, and the 
 owner of the horses and carriage, accompanied by his dog, a 
 shaggy, dirty animal, who seemed well acquainted with the 
 road, trotting bravely on before the carriage, and ever and 
 anon when tired sharing the seat with his master, from whose 
 wallet of provisions he occasionally received a bit of bread, 
 always devoured with much eagerness. 
 
 We were for several hours in sight of Malaga, winding our 
 way slowly around the high range of mountains that lies to 
 the north clad with vines and olive-trees. The vines at this 
 
OF NATHANIEL OHEEVEK, M.D. 175 
 
 time of the year, are destitute of any leaves, and being prun 
 ed entirely close, without leaving a single shoot, they look 
 like so many small, black stumps, arranged in rows up and 
 down the mountains. About noon we passed on the right the 
 village of Colmenar a small town situated on the declivity 
 of one of the mountains that surround it. Here begin to 
 cease the vine-clad hills and olive groves that surround 
 Malaga, and give to the view so picturesque and beautiful an 
 appearance. We continued our way through an uninteresting 
 region to the solitary Venta, near Alfanate, where we arrived 
 about six o clock. 
 
 It had been cloudy, cold, and rainy during the day, and 
 we were glad to get to any resting-place, although there was but 
 little here to cheer a weary traveller. It was a dreary, com 
 fortless-looking place, built in the form of a hollow square, 
 having two gates leading into the court-yard in the centre, 
 from whence we passed into the kitchen, at the end of which 
 a huge-throated chimney, without jambs, received the smoke 
 of a fire. Around this were seated a group of peasants. 
 One of them a black, unshaven, villanous-looking fellow, had 
 a guitar, on which he was playing ever and anon, the same 
 ceaseless tune that salutes our ears so often at Malage, and is 
 sung all over Spain, proceeding apparently more from the 
 organs of the nose than those of the mouth, so nasal and 
 drawling is its sound. He seemed to have a high opinion of 
 his powers as a musician, and to think he was affording in 
 finite amusement to those around. 
 
 This party were paisanos, or countrymen, who had come in 
 to pass the evening, and who lived in the vicinity. I should 
 have said, that when we entered, they were supping together 
 with the Amo de Casa, or landlord, at a small table in front of 
 the fire, to which they afterwards adjourned, continuing to 
 pass around the wine, which they drank by tumblers full. 
 They soon proved its nature, though not so as to lose the com 
 mand of themselves ; but we thought as they left the Venta 
 
176 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 at the close of the evening, armed with their carbines, how 
 readily, in that state, they would commit a robbery on any 
 luckless traveller they might meet on their way home. 
 
 The circle round the fire was increased in the course 
 of the evening, by the arrival of two Gal eras from G-ranada, 
 laden with men, women, and children, stowed together on the 
 top of whatever other lumber these clumsy vehicles might 
 carry. They are a heavy, ill-constructed kind of baggage- 
 wagon, covered at the top, and drawn by six or eight mules, 
 and compared with things of the kind in our own country, they 
 appear one or two centuries behind the age. The arrival of 
 the Graleras with the living cargo they brought, made a busy 
 and amusing scene ; the fire began to be put in requisition to 
 prepare the messes of the different parties, and the servant- 
 girls, though they might have been idle during the day, had 
 now as much work as their hands could perform. We had en 
 gaged our Cuartos, or chambers, before the arrival of the 
 Galeras, and in such as they were, we passed the night. 
 
 We were aroused in the morning at half-past five, by the 
 stentorian voice of the man-servant of the inn, saying at our door 
 Arriba se va El coche, " Up, the coach is going," at the same 
 time prefacing this announcement by a tremendous knock. 
 Having taken a cup of chocolate with bread, we again com 
 menced our journey at a quarter to seven ; passing the small vil 
 lage of Alfanate on our right, romantically situated at the foot of 
 a mountain. Our road was less mountainous than the day be 
 fore, but not easier to travel. The mountains so inlay each 
 other, that it is impossible sometimes to tell where it will lead 
 you, and there are so many windings and turnings, some of 
 them almost at right angles, and many quite unnecessary, that 
 it makes the distance one has to go over, double or quadruple 
 more than it is in a straight line. Granada is but fifty-five 
 miles from Malaga, in a N. E. line ; but by the road you have 
 to travel nearly seventy. 
 
 About noon we arrived at Loxa, an ancient strong-hold of 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 177 
 
 the Moors, and the key to the Yega of Granada. Its position 
 is very romantic, and there are upon the top of a rugged pre 
 cipitous hill, in the midst of the town, the remains of its 
 Moorish castle and fort. It cost the Christians much blood 
 shed to take this place, for the Moors disputed its possession 
 with desperate courage. Though built on a rocky declivity, 
 at its foot is a beautiful valley watered by the river Xenil, and 
 covered with orchards and green fields. This ancient city 
 commanded the entrance to the Vega of Granada, and was a 
 place of great importance under the Moors. More than once 
 they repulsed the Spaniards, headed by their warrior king, 
 Ferdinand, from its walls ; and it was not till after a severe 
 siege, and a most bloody, desperate assault, that it was 
 finally taken. 
 
 We stopped about two hours at the Venta, and then pur 
 sued our way over a very rough stony road, about two or three 
 leagues, to an Inn called " La Venta Nueva," where we passed 
 the night. This Inn was more comfortable than that of our 
 first night s adventure. The mules and horses at this Inn are 
 stabled on the same floor with the kitchen, without any parti 
 tion between, and you enter from the carriage into the midst 
 of borricos and muleteers. 
 
 In the morning, having taken our bread and chocolate, we 
 started at a quarter past six, and soon began gradually to 
 enter upon the Vega of Granada. As we slowly wound 
 through the Vega, and approached nearer the city, the scene 
 became enchanting. On either side of us an immense plain 
 covered with green crops, or orchards of olive, lemon, and 
 orange trees, and sometimes vineyards in front, the city of 
 Granada, with the grey, red towers of the Alhambra rising 
 above it, embowered in gardens and trees ; and on the right 
 of the city, as we approached it, the snow-covered mountains 
 of the Sierra Nevada, overtopping all other objects, and 
 rearing their summits above the clouds, added splendor and 
 sublimity to the picture. It was almost impossible to realize 
 
178 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 that we were passing over ground rendered famous by so 
 many historical events and recollections, and that we were 
 approaching the former imperial seat of Moorish science and 
 magnificence. 
 
 Santa Fe, the site of the camp of Ferdinand and Isabella, 
 which they built to show the Moors their resolute determi 
 nation of taking Granada, is now but a small, miserable vil 
 lage. It is about two leagues from Granada, and we passed 
 through it both in going and returning, but saw nothing there 
 to indicate its having been the former court of two powerful 
 sovereigns, and the scene where were displayed the pomp and 
 chivalry of their numerous armies. We entered the city* 
 through a broad street, and soon came to the Plaza de los 
 Toros, or place of the bulls, at one end of which is the am 
 phitheatre, where are held the bull-fights. 
 
 * * * =& * * 
 
 This celebrated city, which, at the time of its capture from 
 the Moors, in 1491-2, contained 400,000 inhabitants, and 
 armed 100,000 warriors in its defence, now numbers in all but 
 about 80,000 souls. At that time it was three leagues in 
 circumference, entirely surrounded by a strong wall, defended 
 by a thousand and thirty towers, and contained within their 
 precincts seventy thousand houses. It then, and for many 
 years afterwards, contained extensive manufactures of silk, 
 cloths, woollen stuffs, etc. ; but the general causes that have 
 brought on the decay of Spain, and the miserable, cruel 
 policy of utterly banishing the industrious Moors from the 
 soil, have caused their abandonment, and the immense de 
 crease of population in this once densely-inhabited city. 
 
 When one thus views the ruined monuments of a great and 
 noble nation, and meditates on the magnificence and grandeur 
 of their former empire, he may well make the exclamation, 
 though it is a trite one, " Sic transit gloria mundi!" and he 
 may add also with emphasis, in the language of Scripture, 
 " All flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 179 
 
 grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth 
 away ; but the Word of the Lord endureth forever." 
 
 On our return to the Fonda, breakfast being finished, we 
 soon began to make the necessary preparations for our depar 
 ture, and having settled our bill, and remunerated our re 
 doubtable cicerone, the good-natured Mateo, in commendation 
 of whose worthy qualities we signed a certificate which he is 
 in the habit of requesting from all whom he guides through 
 the Alhambra, we placed ourselves again in Bautista s famous 
 coach, which, together with his horses, dog, and himself, he 
 had bestowed in one of the posadas of the city during the 
 time of our stay. We left the Fonda about eleven o clock, 
 and were, in due time, out of the city on our way to Malaga, 
 through the lovely plain that surrounds Granada, the beau 
 ties of whose situation, and the magnificence of whose palaces 
 we were both so soon to leave ; and we cast back, as we de 
 parted, many a lingering look on the lovely landscape in our 
 rear. 
 
 In the afternoon of the third day, notwithstanding our slow 
 pace, we arrived safe at Malaga, with much reason for grati 
 tude in our preservation from all the perils of our journey, 
 and glad once more to get back under the hospitable shelter 
 of our Uncle. 
 
 An extract from the Private Journal at this time 
 reveals the growth of the inner man, and the concern 
 he had for the improvement of his spiritual part, 
 while his senses and intellect were exercised in view 
 ing and describing the tilings of the outward world. 
 
 April 9/i, Sabbath evening. On Thursday evening I had 
 the pain of parting with my beloved brother. He embarked 
 on board the English steamer " Transit," for Gibraltar and 
 Cadiz, from whence he will take another boat for Seville, and 
 in the course of two or three weeks he expects to embark 
 
180 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 again at Cadiz for England by the next steamer. I had in 
 tended the night before he left to have gone with him as far 
 as Seville, and to have returned in the next boat ; but I 
 awaked on Thursday" morning with the symptoms of an 
 asthmatic attack, which has prevented me from taking this 
 pleasant tour, and, at the same time, enjoying for a longer 
 period of time the society of my beloved brother. This is 
 a grievous disappointment, but I hope it may be for my best 
 good ; and the Lord is able to raise matter from oar bitterest 
 trials and disappointments, to fill our souls with his praise and 
 love. 
 
 "We have been together constantly for the last five or 
 six months, and for nearly three months and a half under the 
 roof of our hospitable Uncle. Now that he is gone, and I 
 am left alone, without the society and Christian fellowship I 
 have so long enjoyed, I miss him exceedingly, and feel a pain 
 ful void the more so, since in this place there is no other 
 Christian society with which I can mingle, and have commu 
 nion of spirit. But it is a separation that was necessary, and 
 one to which I have been for a long time looking forward ; and 
 now, let me make diligent improvement of the privileges that 
 may ever remain to me. Let me use much the weapon of 
 " All prayer, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word 
 of God." 
 
 Oh blessed Jesus, adorable Redeemer, be thou unto me a 
 friend that sticketh closer than a brother. Draw me to thy 
 self, and illumine my soul with the blessed light of thy coun 
 tenance. Raise me above all the temptations of the world, the 
 flesh, and the devil, and let no sin have dominion over me. 
 Ever grant me grace to resist all my easily besetting sins, 
 and to obtain an entire victory over them, and, finally, " to 
 beat down Satan under my feet." 
 
 Act but the gentle infant s part, 
 Give up to love thy willing heart ; 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 181 
 
 No fondest parent s melting breast 
 Yearns like thy God s to make thee bless d: 
 Taught its dear mother soon to know, 
 The tenderest babe its love can show ; 
 Bid thy base, servile fear retire 
 This task no labor will require. 
 
 Shake from thy soul, o erwhelmed, oppressed, 
 
 Th encumbering load that galls thy rest, 
 
 That wastes thy strength in bondage vain, 
 
 With courage break th enthralling chain ; 
 
 Let prayer exert its conquering power, * 
 
 Cry in the tempted, trembling hour, 
 
 " My God, my Father, save thy son ! 7 
 
 >Tis heard ; and all thy fears are gone. 
 
 MARTIN LUTHER. 
 
182 MEMORIALS OF THE L-IFE 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF SOCIETY} MANNERS, AND MORALS IN 
 SPAIN. 
 
 And here and there, as up the crags you spring, 
 Mark many rude-carved crosses near the path ; 
 Yet deem not these devotion s offering 
 These are memorials frail of murderous wrath ; 
 For wheresoe er the shrinking victim hath 
 Poured forth his blood beneath the assassin s knife, 
 Some hand erects a cross of mouldering lath ; 
 And grove and glen with thousand such are rife, 
 Throughout this purple land, where law secures not life. 
 
 CHILDE HAROLD. 
 
 AT the time of our residence in the south of Spain, 
 the condition of the country was very much the 
 same as when Gil Bias of Santillana, wishing, as he 
 said, to avoid Scylla, struck upon Charybdis, and fell 
 into the hands of the robbers of the Subterranean 
 Cave ; and the materials of which the robber-bands 
 were composed at the time of our observations upon 
 society and life in Andalusia, were not essentially dif 
 ferent from that notable knot of highwaymen, or 
 ladrones, among which it was the fortune of Gil Bias 
 to be thrown : assassins, criminals escaped from jus- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 183 
 
 tice, disgraced officers, runaway soldiers, mis-educated 
 and cast-off sons of wealthy families ; sometimes men 
 unfortunate in business or love, soured and misan 
 thropic from failures and disappointments ; now and 
 then a recreant friar, along with villains who had 
 served their time as contrabandistas, vagabond paisa- 
 nos, and loafers of the city and village. 
 The rule that 
 
 He may keep who has the power, 
 And he may get who can, 
 
 then prevailed to such a degree, that travellers and 
 natives were naturally under black-mail tribute to law 
 less hordes of banditti, who roamed the country and 
 spoiled whom they pleased. We knew of a man in 
 the very city of Malaga, who, acting as an agent of the 
 robbers, would give to travellers, for a sum of money 
 according to their ability, a sort of paper-passport, 
 that would ensure them safe conduct through all parts 
 of Andalusia. If robbers appeared, and this paper 
 were produced, signed by the well-known name or 
 sign of their city confederate, the traveller would pass 
 unmolested. Even for the Governor himself, it was 
 said this paper would be as good a safe-guard as a file 
 of soldiers. 
 
 It will be at once seen how the personal narrative 
 of the present chapter confirms these statements. 
 Though not all within the proper field of biography, 
 the matter of it is in part of such thrilling interest to 
 the general reader, and withal so strikingly illustrative 
 of life in Spain, and of the mind and heart of the 
 
184 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 writer, that we have not felt at liberty to exclude it 
 here. The Journal begins, and is dated at Alhaurin 
 el Grande, June, 1837 : 
 
 Having some time since received a kind invitation from Mr. 
 Loring to spend a few days at his country house, in this pleas 
 ant village, I left Malaga yesterday afternoon, at two o clock, 
 on horseback, accompanied by a good-natured muleteer, who 
 lives rent free, in a little house adjoining that of Mr. Loring, 
 which latter he takes care of when the family are absent, carry 
 ing letters and packages to and fro between this and Malaga. 
 The ride for the first part of the way was through a dry plain, 
 destitute of trees, and without anything to refresh the vision. 
 There is so little rain in this country, (indeed, I may say al 
 most none, except in the fall and winter,) that the land, when 
 it is not artificially irrigated, has during the summer months an 
 arid and baked appearance. Once in a while, we passed a 
 Cortejo, or farm house, built of stone or brick, stuccoed, or 
 whitewashed outside, and at a distance looking quite neat, but 
 generally naked and desolate, being a single, lone building, 
 without any trees around it, or any signs of taste in its in 
 habitants. 
 
 Within, these Spanish farm-houses generally present a more 
 rude and barbarous appearance than without, scarcely more 
 inviting than the snug barn of a New England farmer. In 
 deed, the whole estate of agricultural affairs in the two countries 
 is right opposite. Here the proprietors of the soil are gene 
 rally noblemen, rich men, or the Church, who do not cultivate 
 it themselves, but let it out to the peasantry of the country. 
 Unlike the sturdy, independent farmers of our land, who own 
 the soil they till, and are for the most part decently intelligent, 
 these are a class of ignorant boors, -seldom knowing either how 
 to read or write ; the limit of their knowledge being to cultivate 
 the land as their fathers did before them, and to sell its pro 
 ducts for the best price. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVEK, M.D. 185 
 
 As we arrived at the river of Malaga, we struck off to the 
 right, and crossed it farther up, leaving the village of Churianna 
 on the left, our road now lying further inland, towards the 
 mountains. The depth of water in the river was only about 
 two and a half or three feet, but in the fall and winter when 
 it has been raining in the mountains, it comes down with great 
 violence ; and then, as it would be impossible to ford it, they 
 have a ferry-boat, which is pulled across from one side to the 
 other by a rope. A mile or so beyond where we crossed, is 
 an aqueduct, reaching to the edge of the river, and having 
 the remains of some piers in its bed, but like many fine public 
 works in Spain, here left unfinished. It is already carried 
 several miles from its fountain head, built of good solid mason- 
 work, sometimes raised on arches to the height of fifteen or 
 twenty feet, and at others on a level with the ground, varying 
 in height according to the nature of the land it crosses, having 
 on the top a channel for the water, covered with bricks, which, 
 if it were led into Malaga, would exempt the inhabitants from 
 that painful scarcity of water, which they now often suffer in 
 the dry season. 
 
 About one or two leagues from Alhaurin, my guide pointed 
 out the house, where Gen. Torejos and Pinto, the brother of 
 Lopez Pinto formerly Civil Governor of Malaga, were surround 
 ed and taken prisoners by the troops of Moreno, then governor 
 of Malaga in 1831, and afterwards with about forty-eight others 
 (including Mr. Boyd, a young English officer, who had volun 
 teered in their cause), were publicly shot on the beach at 
 Malaga, on Sunday the llth of Dec. of the same year. 
 
 It was during the despotism of Ferdinand VII. that they 
 wished to make a movement in favor of the liberal cause, and 
 devised their plans for the purpose at Gibraltar. This becoming 
 known in Malaga to the bloody despot, Moreno, who ruled 
 with a rod of iron, he wrote false letters to the patriots at Gib 
 raltar, pretending they would be well received, and inviting 
 them to come to Malaga. Having thus succeeded in deceiving 
 
186 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 and decoying them into his clutches, he had them all shot in 
 cold blood. He is now one of Don Carlos principal chiefs, 
 and his memory is most heartily execrated by every soul in 
 Malaga. 
 
 When he was governor of the city, I have been told that 
 every person that had a bible, was obliged to go and deliver it 
 at the bishop s palace ; and the spiritual despotism of the 
 church was in full play. At that time when the hour for 
 evening prayer arrived, and the bell of the Cathedral struck to 
 announce it, wherever a man might be, or whatever his situ 
 ation in the house, or in the street, he was obliged to take off 
 his hat immediately, and kneel down, at the risk of having it 
 knocked off by a blow from some soldier or bystander. 
 
 For about a league before we arrived at Alhaurin, the 
 scenery was made up of beautiful vineyards, orange, lemon, 
 and olive groves, fig-trees and pomegranates, and fine green 
 vegetable gardens, or Huertas, refreshing the eye in every 
 direction, with their bright rich verdure. About a quarter 
 before eight, I arrived safe, with my guide, at Mr. Loring s 
 house, and was very cordially received by its inmates with 
 Americo-Spanish hospitality. The place is charmingly situat 
 ed on the declivity of a hill, just at the foot of the Sierra of 
 Mijus, overlooking an extensive undulating plain, bounded in 
 almost all directions by lofty mountains. The soil is very rich, 
 and being irrigated by an abundance of water, from a number 
 of never-failing springs, it produces bountifully. 
 
 The Huertas, as they are called, or as we should term 
 them, vegetable and fruit gardens are very fine, yielding a great 
 abundance of everything marketable. Oranges, lemons, apri 
 cots, cherries, plums, pears, apples and peaches, olives, grapes, 
 quinces, and pomegranates, all abound in this fruitful region. 
 Grains and a variety of vegetables also grow here, vast in quantity 
 and of excellent quality. Various kinds of beans the Garaban- 
 ros or large Spanish bean the Altramuas, or Lupines, which 
 are hawked about the streets, soaked in salted water ; Spanish 
 
M.D. 187 
 
 artichokes, cauliflowers, cabbage, onions, garlic, beets, carrots, 
 tomatoes, green peppers, various kinds of stuff for salad, cu 
 cumbers, corn, wheat, barley, oats, and other cereals which 
 the earth here yields bountifully. 
 
 From this and the neighboring town of Coin, the mar 
 kets of Malaga receive their supplies. This compact lit 
 tle village is estimated to contain six thousand souls ; the 
 manner of building being such that a village very small in 
 extent, may contain a large number of inhabitants. The 
 houses, instead of being interspersed like those of a New Eng 
 land village, with pleasant little grass plats and gardens, are 
 built like those of a city, in solid blocks on each side of the 
 street, generally of one story, composed of bricks, or stone 
 and mortar, plastered and whitewashed outside, presenting one 
 uniform surface throughout the town. 
 
 Alhaurin, Sabbath Day. While dear Mother and E. are en 
 joying, as I hope, the precious privileges of the sanctuary, 
 Henry at New Orleans, and George, I suppose, in London, 
 I am here under the roof of my countryman, Mr. Loring, in 
 a quiet little Spanish town, far retired from the noise and bus 
 tle of the world, in a calm retreat, with which prayer and 
 praise may well accord : 
 
 " This calm retreat, this quiet shade, 
 With prayer and praise agree, 
 And seems by thy sweet bounty made, 
 For those who worship thee." 
 
 These beautiful lines I may with much propriety apply to 
 my situation to day. I look abroad from my window upon the 
 face of nature, the distant mountains bounding the horizon, 
 and the hills and valleys around covered with green trees, and 
 waving crops ; all is quiet and serene, but few sounds are 
 heard from the village to disturb the universal repose, every 
 thing seems to invite to calm meditation and prayer ; and oh, 
 may not the opportunity be lost upon me ! I long to enjoy a 
 
188 MEMOEIALS OF THE LTFK 
 
 really Christian Sabbath ; to be among those who keep holy 
 time, and to go up with them to the house of God in company. 
 How many happy Sabbaths, and I hope in some measure 
 spiritually profitable ones, have I passed under my native roof 
 with my dear Mother and Sister, who now occupy it ! May 
 God in his loving kindness, grant that I may pass, yet, many 
 more in their beloved society with the added blessing of perfect 
 health. 
 
 Wednesday^ 21s, Alhaurin. A scene altogether in keeping 
 with the state of things in this country, and illustrative of a 
 life in Spain, took place in this very house the night before 
 last. About half-past eight in the evening a man came to the 
 door to announce that some men, whose character he well 
 knew, wished to see Mr. Loring, el Amo de Casa, and as they 
 had no place to leave their arms, they would have to bring 
 them upon their persons. We were just at tea, but a ham was 
 put on the table with wine, &c., to give^them a hospitable re 
 ception, and Mr. and Mrs. Loring were with them at table, as 
 it is necessary to receive them in a free and unembarrassed 
 manner. They all came armed with carbines and pistols, and 
 knives in their belts, making a formidable appearance, and with 
 their peaked hats and dark swarthy faces, their tout ensemble 
 was not a bad sample of Spanish Brigands. 
 
 But who are they ? The facts in the case are the following : 
 These men were formerly guards on the road between this 
 village and Malaga, obtaining their subsistence by the contri 
 butions received from the muleteers, and others, which is a few 
 quartos for every one that passes. For some reason or other 
 they were dismissed by government from this employment, and 
 have since been leading the life of free-booters, living upon 
 robbery, or the black mail paid to them to be freed from their 
 attacks. They are indeed now the keepers of the road, for if 
 they choose to molest passengers, the other guards placed by 
 government would be of but little avail. 
 
 Two of them are brothers, called the Naranjos ; they are 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 189 
 
 well known in the village, and come in and out quite freely, as 
 the authorities here are making no efforts to take them. Mr. 
 Loring had previously had an intimation that they wished to 
 see, and obtain assistance from him ; for they genteelly cover 
 their demands in this way, under the guise of lending, though 
 we may be quite sure they will not trouble themselves to 
 return this kind of loans. He represented to them that as 
 the times were not favorable, they must be content with 
 less than they asked, but if not he must pay them all ; 
 they took, however, what he offered, the ^amount I do not 
 know. 
 
 The whole of this affair is so astonishing, and almost in 
 credible, that even one on the spot can hardly realize it, and 
 to those who are distant, the inhabitants of countries advanced 
 in civilization, and not kept in awe by robbers, as the interior 
 of this country may with truth be said to be, this state of 
 things would hardly gain belief. That armed banditti should 
 come into a peaceful village of six thousand inhabitants, enter 
 the house of a gentleman there residing, partake of his forced 
 hospitality, levy upon him their contributions, and then 
 depart with their booty to their strongholds, or temporary 
 abiding places, unmolested, would be esteemed a tough story, 
 even for marines. 
 
 Mr. Dillon, an Irish gentleman, who lives opposite Mr. 
 Loring s house, knew that these robber gentry had come to 
 pay him a visit, and preparing himself in case anything should 
 happen, to act with energy, ordered his servant to load, with 
 two balls each, both his guns, and thus made ready, they 
 watched in the house to see what might take place, but found 
 no occasion to use their weapons, although he was not far 
 out of the way in saying that a bullet through the heart of 
 each of these villains would be no more than they richly de 
 serve. They went away quietly about eleven o clock, in very 
 good humour with the liberal treatment of their host, Mr. 
 Loring. I was not in the room during their stay, but saw 
 
190 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 them through the open door, as they sat at table in the dining- 
 room, and also when they went out of the house. 
 
 The hands of these very men are stained with the guilt of 
 many a murdered wretch, whose blood cries out against them 
 from the ground. It is only about two months since, that 
 this same gang that are now levying their contributions on 
 Alhaurin and its vicinity, took away from his house, and car 
 ried with them to their haunts, a rich farmer of Coin, demand 
 ing for his ransom $3,000, 2,500 of which was at length 
 paid, and he released. 
 
 Tt is also but a few weeks since, that they went into 
 Churianna, took out the Captain of Police into the Plaza, 
 and began to bring him to account for having said, as 
 they alleged he had done, that they were thieves and robbers. 
 He tried to excuse himself, and escape their vengeance, but all 
 his entreaties were of no avail. They told him to kneel down 
 and say his creed, for that he had but a few moments to 
 live. In the mean time, the Alcalde had come to the Plaza, 
 begging them to desist from their bloody intentions, but they 
 heeded him not, threatening to shoot him also if he did not 
 hold his peace. They accordingly drew off from their victim, 
 the Captain of Police, fired a volley of balls into his body, and 
 departed from the village leaving him weltering in his blood. 
 
 Having heard about the same time of the intention of the 
 Commander of the Nacionales and another man to take them 
 prisoners, a Commission from Government having been re 
 ceived to that effect, they waylaid them one day as they were 
 passing on horseback, shot one dead in the breast, and wounded 
 the other in the arm, breaking the bone. This last putting 
 spurs to his horse, fled with all speed, and escaped with his 
 life. They had previously shot at, and seriously wounded the 
 schoolmaster of the village, mistaking him for their enemy, the 
 officer. Thus were two public officers killed, and one badly 
 wounded, by these assassins, and all within six miles of Malaga, 
 and even in sight of the city. This gang have their spies or 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 191 
 
 informants in the cities and villages, and know beforehand 
 whenever an attempt to take them is to be made, and devise 
 their measures accordingly, so as to baffle the pursuit. 
 
 There is, no doubt, a great deal of connivance and crimi 
 nal compromising with them by many of the authorities, and 
 indeed there is much corruption and bigotry. The execution 
 of the law is so slack, and very often not enforced at all, that 
 some well-disposed magistrates, who, perhaps, might have it in 
 their power to take them prisoners, are deterred from the 
 fear that when brought to trial, having bribed well the escri- 
 banos, they will again be let loose, and wreak their vengeance 
 on the heads of those who were the means of their temporary 
 imprisonment. The decision of law cases lies in this country 
 almost entirely with the escribanos, who are a very corrupt 
 and venal class of men. When they are well bribed, they 
 will make almost any case go in favor of their client ; so 
 that money is the grand requisite in a law-suit, let the right 
 or the wrong of the case be as it may. 
 
 The robbers are, in fact, sometimes in league with the 
 escribanos, as the following anecdote, among many others 
 that might be adduced, proves and illustrates : Mr. Rixon, 
 a respectable English merchant in Malaga, told me, a few 
 weeks since, that some noted robbers in the vicinity (I pre 
 sume this same gang), made an appointment for an interview 
 with a couple of escribanos, at the distance of six or eight 
 miles from Malaga, in which they used language to them 
 equivalent to the following : " Rob on ; why don t you rob ? 
 Do your business, we ll do ours we ll protect you ; you shall 
 not be punished." This the driver of the calesa in which they 
 went, told Mr. Rixon, having himself heard the conversation ; 
 and in many respects it shows but too well the state of society 
 in this unhappy country. 
 
 A few days since, a celebrated villain, called Polaca, was 
 shot near Coin, as he was passing the road with a load of 
 tobacco He fell into the highway, having received two balls 
 
192 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 directly through his breast ; and though he had money about 
 him, and his jacket was ornamented with silver buttons, yet 
 nothing was touched, neither also his horse, which was left to 
 wander at his own will. It is thought he was shot by one of 
 his own companions, who wished for nothing more than to 
 glut his own private vengeance by taking away his life. 
 Though not exempt from the guilt of murder, he has, who 
 ever he may be, rid the earth of a wretch who long ago de 
 served death, and himself has now to answer for the blood of 
 many a murdered victim. 
 
 Several years since, Mr. Loring resided a little time with 
 a son of his, at the village of Colmenar, on the road to 
 Granada, for the benefit of the country air ; and this very man 
 was the guard of the farm-house and vineyard where he staid. 
 He was at that time but eighteen years old ; yet, even then 
 he had, in several instances, taken away life. His violent doings 
 have now come down upon his own head. u He that seeketh 
 mischief, mischief shall come upon him." 
 
 Yesterday, having for my guide the good-natured muleteer 
 Immanuel, who came with me from Malaga, I took a pleasant 
 trip on horseback to Coin and Monda. With my stomach 
 fortified by a cup of tea, a bit of cold ham, an egg, and 
 bread, I sallied forth on my gay little charger, and my trusty 
 guide on his borrico, about half past six A. M. The old 
 Moorish tower being now directly on our way, I dismounted, 
 and went up to the top of it. The first flight of stairs, which 
 is outside, leads into a vaulted chamber that supports the 
 tower above. From this was formerly the entrance to the 
 dungeon or calaboso, where were deposited prisoners or crimi 
 nals, being an opening in the centre of the floor of about 
 three or four feet in diameter, and having, as the farmer of 
 the cortejo told me, a depth of six yards. The pit is now 
 floored over with bricks. At one corner, on the top of the 
 tower, is a bell, having on it the date of 1789, which the man 
 said had been used formerly to call the neighbors to mass. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEE, M.D. 193 
 
 A farmhouse adjoins the tower, through the miserable 
 room of which I passed on my way to the top. The dirt and 
 squalidness of a Spanish cortejo form a striking contrast to 
 the neat apartments, and well-burnished dressers, of a New 
 England farmhouse ; and their respective appearance is a 
 very good commentary on the different habits of the people. 
 Coin is a much larger place than Alhaurin, being the capital 
 of the three Pueblos Alhaurin, Monda, and Cartama, and 
 contains about eight thousand inhabitants. It is situated at 
 the foot of a Sierra, in an uneven valley, on the side of a 
 hill, surrounded on all sides by beautiful huertas, fine orchards 
 of fruit trees, and waving fields of grain. The road just be 
 fore you enter the town descends into a deep passage, on 
 either side of which rises a steep cliff of twenty or thirty feet 
 in height, overhung with green trees and shrubbery, and leav 
 ing just room for the road. After riding in the hot sun, it 
 was like the shadow of a great rock in a weary land, to pass 
 suddenly into this cool, shady retreat, impenetrably shielded 
 from its rays, from whence, in a few moments, we again 
 emerged into the streets of the town. 
 
 Immanuel having put our beasts, by permission of the 
 occupants of a little house, into a stable, or place answering 
 for it in the rear, we took a walk round the town. It has a 
 pretty little Alameda, apparently new, planted with gera 
 niums, rose bushes, and set out with black poplars a 
 row on each side, and a weeping-willow at each end, with 
 marble seats at proper intervals, and at one end a fountain. 
 The churches were all shut, but one of them presented a very 
 decent appearance outside. There are also several convents, 
 but none of them at present occupied by friars. According 
 to the prevailing custom, the principal haunt of the place is 
 called the Plaza de la Constitucion. Thus Alhaurin, Coin, 
 Monda, Churianna, and Torre Molinos, each have their Plaza 
 de la Constitucion, which, under the former despotism, would 
 have been called Plaza Real, which "was the name of the prin- 
 9 
 
194: MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 cipal public square in Malaga, previous to the Revolution of 
 the Liberals in August, 1835, when it was changed to Plaza 
 de la Constitucion. 
 
 Our rustic meal being despatched with the keen relish 
 given by horseback exercise, we ascended a high hill back of 
 the village, on which are the remains of an ancient Roman 
 fortress. In its own day it must have been a very strong 
 castle. The top of the hill is precipitous, in some places 
 perpendicular, and the summit seems to have once been sur 
 rounded with a strong wall, buttressed with several towers, of 
 which there are parts still remaining. The mortar with 
 which they were built, has become almost as hard as the 
 stone itself. It would seem as* if the ancients in those cen 
 turies had an art of mixing mortar which is unknown now ; 
 for time, instead of crumbling it, seems only to make it grow 
 more hard. The fort is in a very commanding position, situ 
 ated exactly at the head of the valley, guarding the entrance 
 to the mountains ; but now that gunpowder is invented, it 
 could be battered from the neighboring heights. 
 
 This little village has been made famous by the battle which 
 historians and geographers say was fought near it, between 
 Csesar and the sons of Pompey. It was then called Munda, which 
 has been changed in the lapse of time to Monda. In the 
 period of the Roman domination in Spain, it must have been 
 a place of considerable importance, as several Latin inscrip 
 tions and medals which have been discovered, as well as the 
 remains of its strong fortifications, tend to show. The village 
 is now a small, compact, little pueblo, at the foot of the hill 
 on which stand the ruins of the castle, containing about five 
 hundred souls. 
 
 How many important events, big with the fate of empires, 
 have transpired in the world since the erection of the ruined 
 fortress that now overlooks this little place ! And in particular, 
 what scenes of bloody warfare of rapine and revolution the 
 invasion of foreign armies the anarchy of civil strife, has this 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVEE, M.D. 195 
 
 wretched land been the theatre of ! In different centuries before 
 and since that time, the Carthaginians, the Romans, the Groths, 
 the Moors, and the Christians, have, in succession, been the lords 
 of its soil ; and besides the severe and long-protracted strug 
 gles between these different warlike people in conquering each 
 other, during which the earth was fattened with the blood of 
 the slain, it has drunk in the life-current of millions killed in 
 the civil dissensions of those respective nations. What a 
 commentary does it present on the raging passions the un 
 governable lust for power the unmitigated wickedness that 
 reside in the breast of the unsanctified man ! 
 
 Thursday , June 22nd. Yesterday afternoon, with Mr. 
 Loring and Mr. Dillon, an Irish gentleman, I had a pleasant 
 ride to an estate in the vicinity, belonging to the latter, called 
 Quinlin. 
 
 It was only a few nights since that the same men who paid 
 their respects to Mr. Loring, came to this place with their 
 horses, and slept for the night. A farmer in the vicinity 
 was expecting the return of his nephew or grand 
 son. One of this gang, therefore, being made acquainted 
 with the fact, disguised himself as the nephew, came on his 
 horse, and knocked at the door, which was unsuspectingly 
 opened, supposing it to be their returning relative, when lo ! 
 in rode the robber with his confederates at his heels, and 
 quartered himself and horse on the astonished family ! He 
 made them keep the horse for a week, and when he took him 
 away, levied on the farmer a black-mail of ten dollars be 
 sides. 
 
 They also, about a week since, sent to a priest, the cura 
 of this village, to request the^ loan of a fine mare they knew 
 him to have ; and as there was no alternative but their ven 
 geance, he made a virtue of necessity, and sent the animal, 
 granting them a loan, of which he may be quite sure neither 
 principal nor interest will ever bo paid. Thus it is that these 
 abominable outrages are daily perpetrated ; and the Govern- 
 
196 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 ment, which might check and punish them with comparative 
 ease, if energy were used, allow them to be committed with 
 impunity. 
 
 This afternoon I expect to return to the city. I shall have 
 reason to remember this little sojourn under the country roof 
 of my kind host and hostess, Mr. and Mrs. Loving, with 
 many pleasant recollections, muchas memorias, both of their 
 attentions and my own personal enjoyment. 
 
 Malaga. I am now again amidst the sights and sounds 
 of the city, but I could have relished yet longer the retire 
 ment enjoyed the last few days ; and I find it has been of 
 great advantage to my heallh. As Cowper beautifully says : 
 
 Tis pleasant through the loop-holes of retreat 
 To peep at such a world to see the stir 
 Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd ; 
 To hear the roar she sends through all her gates 
 At a safe distance, when the dying sound 
 Falls a soft murmur on the uninjured ear. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVERj M.D. 197 
 
 CHAP TEE IX. 
 
 THE INTKIGTJE, THE ASSASSINATION, AND THE PUNISH 
 MENT. 
 
 WE insert here, as properly constituting a chapter 
 of this work, a paper written out at a later date for the 
 OPAL, the materials of which were supplied by per 
 sonal observation and knowledge at the time. It is 
 entitled, 
 
 EVEN-HANDED JUSTICE IN SPAIN A MILITARY EXECUTION. 
 
 FROM NOTES AND OBSERVANCES ON THE SPOT. BY N. 
 CHEEVER, M.D. 
 
 In the neighborhood of the city of Malaga, on the banks 
 of the Guadal-Medina, the traveller may observe, among 
 other pleasant habitations, a beautiful hacienda, or country 
 seat, which attracts a melancholy notice when some of the 
 associations connected with it are revealed. Amid the orange 
 groves and olive orchards of that lovely climate, many a 
 place has its story of intrigue and murder, which the beauty 
 of the region would belie. This romantic spot was the dwell 
 ing of a young lawyer, amiable in his deportment, affable in 
 society, and enjoying a reputation superior to all suspicion 
 of crime. I shall not describe his whole name, because the 
 transactions to which I refer are yet comparatively recent ; 
 
198 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 and it is enough for my purpose to designate him as Don 
 Juan. On a bright and glorious day while I was in Malaga, 
 I saw him publicly shot, in the presence of ten thousand 
 spectators, in an open space on the banks of the Gruadal- 
 Medina, on the city side, where the eye could rest directly on 
 his beautiful residence in full view beyond. 
 
 One of Don Juan s acquaintance and friends in the city, 
 was the husband of a lovely wife, possessed of some property 
 in her own right. Between this woman and Don Juan there 
 was an intimacy which, but for the dreadful tragedy I am 
 going to relate, might never have worn the appearance of 
 guilt, but only of friendship. Her husband, Don Jose, was 
 of a frank, unsuspicious, open-hearted nature ; and both were 
 young. Whether the guilt of the crime resting on her and 
 Don Juan, were greater on her side or his, it is difficult to 
 say, or who was the tempter to the deed of blood which re 
 sulted in her misery and his destruction. 
 
 In a small village called Priego, a few leagues from Malaga, 
 there lived a man named Jose de la Rosa, by profession a 
 common day laborer, married, and the father of six children. 
 He had, as the Spaniards say, ten murders on his soul 
 " tenia diez muertes" being one of those mercenary assas 
 sins whose most profitable trade, in such a country as Spain, 
 is blood, and in whom undiscovered crime had effectually 
 seared his conscience. As he appeared at the execution in 
 the square in Malaga, he was of an elevated stature, regular 
 features, and strongly knit, powerful frame, denoting immense 
 vigor and physical strength. His face was of citron color, 
 his eyes black, large, and very wide apart, and the whole ex 
 pression of his countenance dark and fearful in the highest 
 degree. If you had met him of an evening in the narrow 
 streets of Malaga, you would have felt anxious till you found 
 yourself in safety at your own door. 
 
 This man might have been seen one night in the beautiful 
 month of October, when the grape-harvest had closed, step- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVEE, M.D. 199 
 
 ping out from Don Juan s residence, muffled in a rough 
 Spanish capa, and making his way from the river toward the 
 mountains. The price at which Don Juan had secured his 
 services was never known ; but he had promised him perfect 
 security, and a personal participation in the crime, by his 
 own presence, to make all sure when he should meet his vic 
 tim. The arrangement was completed ; and on a certain 
 night, when Don Juan knew the intended movements of his 
 friend, the murderer was to meet him across the bridge in the 
 city, and to be guided by him till, in sight of his object, he 
 might post himself without mistake, for the assassination. 
 
 It was half-past eleven on the night of the 30th, as Don 
 Jose, accompanied by a watchman, was returning unsuspect 
 ingly to his home in the city from an evening visit at the house 
 of a friend. They had arrived at the entrance to one of the 
 dark and narrow streets with which Malaga abounds. Here 
 Don Juan and La Hosa had posted themselves, expecting to 
 meet Don Jose, and awaiting his coining. At the farther 
 corner of the street they had been stopped, and as Don Juan 
 saw his victim advancing with the watchman, he hastily said to 
 La Rosa, " Ahi viene ! ahi viene !" There he comes ! there he 
 comes ! and then fled swiftly to his own house, not remaining 
 to see the end of the murder, but as quick as possible placing 
 himself quietly in bed. Before the night finished he was 
 taken thence by armed soldiers, for his execution ! 
 
 Don Jose and the watchman, continuing their way up the 
 street, were met suddenly by a tall athletic man in the com 
 mon garb of a paisano or rustic, muffled in a cloak. As he 
 came up with Don Jose, neither he nor the watchman being in 
 the least on their guard, the murderer drew forth a savage 
 knife concealed beneath his capa, and plunged it with such 
 tremendous violence into the breast of the unfortunate young 
 man, as to make a wound six and a half inches deep, com 
 pletely dividing the heart. The blood of the poor victim, im 
 pelled by the spasmodic contractions of the heart, spouted into 
 
200 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 the air, and sprinkled to a considerable height the walls of the 
 street. Thousands of horror stricken spectators were gathered 
 the next morning to gaze upon the stains. On receiving the 
 dreadful stab, the murdered man breathed forth one sad cry, 
 the gurgling rather of his death-agony, and fell lifeless. 
 
 La Rosa having finished the murder, instantly took to flight. 
 He might have killed the watchman, had he chosen, and then 
 robbed his victim, who had upon his person a watch and chain 
 of much value ; and the fact that no attempt of this kind was 
 made, indicated, by itself, a concealed interest and agent in 
 the" murder. The watchman, though thrown for a moment 
 from his guard, by the horrible catastrophe which passed be 
 fore him with such electric rapidity, at once gave chase to the 
 murderer, who, in making his escape, intended to take a street 
 close at hand, by which he might easily have effected it. This 
 was the Calle de las siete rer-iteltas, the Street of the Seven 
 Turns, a literal definition of its geography, so that it would 
 have been exceedingly favorable for La Rosa s purpose ; but, 
 being hotly pursued by the watchman, he missed his aim, and 
 rushed down a Calle juela sin salida, a narrow lane without an 
 outlet, and a very short one too, at the end of which he was 
 brought to a dead halt by the huge impenetrable walls of high 
 buildings on the three sides of him, leaving no possible way of re 
 treat but that by which he had entered. Here he was brought to 
 bay, like a raging bull ; and being knocked down and slightly 
 wounded by the lance of the watchman or Sereno, he was, 
 with other assistance, at length secured, and carried immedi 
 ately before the Captain-general. 
 
 I have mentioned the Spanish appellation of the watchman, 
 Sereno ; it is interesting to state that the Serenos, or watch 
 men in the South of Spain, probably have taken their name 
 from the loveliness of the climate. It is not unlikely that the 
 term came to be applied to them from the fact that in crying 
 the hour and the state of the weather, as they do, the climate 
 is so delightfully mild and agreeable that they can generally 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 201 
 
 say Sereno, fair, serene. The sound of their fine melodious 
 voices, heard in the deep stillness of midnight, ringing through 
 the clear crystal atmosphere of Andalusia, has an indescrib 
 ably serene, romantic and thrilling effect. 
 
 Ave Maria purissima ! 
 Las doce-e y media-a, 
 Y sereno-o ! 
 
 They cry the hour, with a prolonged and musical repetition 
 of the syllables, preceded by the name of the Holy Virgin, and 
 almost always you hear the S.ereno-o at the close, to tell the 
 sleepers how quite and beautiful are the heavens above them. 
 Too frequently, beneath all this quiet and beauty, deeds of 
 violence and blood are transacted, fitter for the murky atmo 
 sphere of the Valley of the Shadow of Death. 
 
 At the time of the event I am relating, the city of Malaga, 
 on account of the disturbed state of the country, had been 
 put under martial law. This is the reason why justice, in 
 most cases so dilatory, was in this case inflicted with such ra 
 pid and terrible severity. The war with Don Carlos had not 
 yet been concluded, and the Captain-general of the kingdom of 
 Granada, who usually lives at that city, was residing at Malaga. 
 These circumstances gave me an opportunity to see some 
 phases of Spanish life, which I could not otherwise have 
 witnessed, and also, as my readers will find, brought before me 
 in detail the course of a capital trial before a military tribunal. 
 The Captain-general took it all into his own hands, and pro 
 ceeded with an unrelenting energy, rapidity, and sternness, 
 completely overwhelming. 
 
 It was about midnight when the watchmen hurried their 
 captive before him. The efforts of the murderer having been 
 noticed in rubbing his hands to efface from them the bloody 
 vestiges of his crime, the Captain-general ordered them to be 
 bound between two tablets of wood. He also caused to be 
 gathered up, the hat, the cloak, and thefaja, or sash, of the 
 
202 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 assassin, which he had thrown off at different points during the 
 close pursuit of the watchmen, and also the knife with which 
 the fatal blow had been given, and which was found near by 
 the yet palpitating body. The Captain-general also immedi 
 ately nominated an officer to act as attorney-general in the case, 
 on the part of the government, and then proceeded to the 
 business of taking the depositions. There was no possibility 
 of denying the fact, and consequently La Rosa confessed the 
 crime ; and seeing himself utterly lost, if alone, designated as 
 his accomplice the young lawyer Don Juan. 
 
 Here commenced a drama of the judgment, like to the hor 
 rible solemnity of which it would be difficult to find any 
 counterpart in the judicial proceedings of any other country. 
 In the dead of night a body of men rapidly and silently sur 
 rounded the city residence of Don Juan, his father s house, 
 and took him from his bed, where he had scarcely time to 
 close his eyes, even if his conscience would have let him, and 
 hurried him before the Captain-general, to confront his des 
 perate accuser. La Rosa entered into the most minute details 
 of the premeditation of the murder, with all the circumstances 
 of the diabolical transaction, affirming that Don Juan had 
 tempted, persuaded, and induced him to commit the crime, 
 having, for this purpose, offered and delivered to him 
 certain sums of money. What could Don Juan answer ? The 
 unexpected discovery and capture of the hired murderer, in 
 the very perpetration of the crime, and the suddenness with 
 which the bolt of justice had fallen, were overwhelming ; never 
 theless, he might hope to escape. He maintained the utter 
 calumny of the accusation. u Prove your charge ! Am I to 
 be condemned on the testimony of a common assassin ? I defy 
 the proof. It is a murderous falsehood." 
 
 If there had been any delay, a skilful lawyer might have 
 contrive-d a powerful defence. But the parties had no time 
 even to sleep upon the transactions. The investigation was 
 followed up with terrible activity and despatch. And it was 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 203 
 
 of such a nature as if dead men could tell tales as well as 
 living witnesses. At seven o clock in the morning, another 
 careo, or confronting, took place between the prisoners. But 
 being still discordant in their testimony, they were conducted 
 to the Sagrado, or parish church connected with the cathe 
 dral, where the body of the murdered man had been carried 
 soon after the assassination took place. While the soldiers 
 had been taking Don Juan from his bed, others had laid the 
 body on its bier within the solemn shadows of the Cathedral. 
 Thither the multitude of an awakened city poured, and there, 
 under the dim arches of the temple, before the lifeless and 
 gory remains of the victim, La Rosa solemnly swore to the 
 charges he had before made against his accomplice, and face 
 to face accused him of the murder. The countenance of the 
 assassin haunts me now, his citron face, and black eyes, like 
 lamps in a cave, desperate and wrathful. " In the name of 
 God I swear that I killed this man, Don Jose, instigated and 
 hired thereto by Don Juan, who is the murderer !" La Rosa 
 had nothing to conceal ; and this oath to the bloody corpse 
 of his victim, carried with it into the soul of the assembled 
 multitude a deep, damning conviction. 
 
 Meantime, during this fearful scene, Don Juan remained 
 abashed and confounded. He uttered nothing but a few in 
 distinct articulations. Then, when the assassin had- finished 
 his adjuration, the Attorney-General commanded Don Juan 
 to take the hand of the corpse and curse the murderer 
 u Maledecir su asesino." Pale and conscience-stricken, ha 
 dared not do it ; but as in a revery, gazed stupidly, and 
 uttered some confused mutterings. So finished the trial by 
 oath in the Cathedral with the murdered man s body. 
 
 Next, at the motion of the Attorney-General, the prisoners 
 were conducted together to the spot where the crime was 
 perpetrated, and there again interrogated on its details. 
 They were carefully guarded between a picquet of soldiers, 
 La Rosa with his arms pinioned at the elbows, his bloody hands 
 
201 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 still between the tablets of wood ; and Don Juan enveloped in 
 bis capa, and full of gloom, remorse, and anxiety. They 
 were accompanied by tbe different officers engaged in taking 
 the depositions, one of them carrying, wrapped in a handker 
 chief, the bloody knife of the murderer. 
 
 This weapon was one of those Spanish knives in general 
 use among the peasantry of Andalusia, with which they fre 
 quently fight their bloody duels, and give the deadly stab in 
 moments of furious passion, or in a cool, rankling vengeance. 
 J have one of these knives in my possession ; and I am sure 
 that the ideas of piracy and murder attached in every one s 
 mind to the term, " a long Spanish knife," have a most natu 
 ral and legitimate origin. It has a blade about twelve or fif 
 teen inches in length, and two inches wide at the haft, taper 
 ing gradually to a sharp point, for about three inches from 
 which it is double-edged. It is made to open and shut like a 
 jack-knife, with a strong spring, into a handle of brass, the 
 back of which is composed of a piece of steel, which the 
 peasants use to strike fire when they wish to light their cigar- 
 ritos de papel. The most singular and characteristic part of 
 this knife is the inscription on the side of the blade. It is a 
 very distinct and significant couplet, reading as follows: 
 
 Quien a mi amo ofendiere 
 De mi la venganza espere . 
 
 This may be rendered exactly in English rhyme thus : 
 
 He who my owner doth offend, 
 
 On my keen vengeance must depend. 
 
 This was the weapon of La Rosa the murderer. Doubt 
 less it had done similar work in his hands before. 
 
 Thus they moved on from point to point in their investi 
 gating process ; and never before or since have I witnessed 
 such a procession as that. As it passed from place to place, 
 literally " making inquisition for blood," followed by an im- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 205 
 
 mense. rushing multitude, eager to get sight of the prisoners, 
 the impression was terrific. An intense interest pervaded the 
 whole city : all eyes were strained to gaze, all ears erect to 
 hear, and every tongue dwelt in accents of horror on the de 
 tails of the tragedy. At the spot where Don Jose had been 
 stabbed, the procession rested, and the criminals were ques 
 tioned as to the route which they took from their place of 
 rendezvous, to the point where they expected to meet their 
 victim. La Rosa, with a sort of malignant satisfaction, de 
 scribed the whole scene. 
 
 During the course of the day fifty-one witnesses were ex 
 amined. The murderer also went into more detailed and 
 astounding disclosures, showing, in part, the sums of money 
 paid beforehand, the cool, calculating deliberation in the pre 
 liminary arrangements for the murder, and their patience in 
 awaiting their doomed victim. The monster persisted in all 
 his previous statements, and spoke of his crime with such a 
 terrible tranquillity and self-possession, that the tones of his 
 voice grated with a horrid dissonance upon the ear. Don 
 Juan remained silent, absorbed in dreadful forebodings as to 
 the result. At eight o clock in the evening the depositions 
 and confessions of the day were concluded. Then, at four in 
 the morning, the assassin and his accomplice, Don Juan, with 
 their legal defenders, and the whole body of the witnesses, 
 solemnly ratified their testimony. 
 
 This was the day of the trial, and the interest and agitation 
 of the public rose to a still higher pitch. New conf routings 
 took place, and at twelve o clock the cause passed into the 
 hands of the counsel for the accused. An immense multi 
 tude thronged every avenue leading to the Convent of San 
 Felipe, where the council was held ; and anxiety and im 
 patience were portrayed on every countenance. It is difficult 
 to convey to my readers an idea of the course of a criminal 
 process where there are no pleadings, nor trial by jury, nor 
 anything like it ; but where bundles of papers simply pass 
 
206 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 from one side to the other, and accusations and defences are 
 read. At half-past six in the afternoon the defence returned 
 the cause ; and at eight o clock in the evening the Council 
 of War were called together to hear the accusations from the 
 Attorney-General, on the part of Government, against the 
 prisoners, and their defence on the part of their counsel ; and 
 from all the data and evidence before the court, to give sen 
 tence. 
 
 The speech of the Attorney-General was short. He de 
 manded capital punishment against both criminals. The 
 defence followed. That of Don Juan was read by his de 
 fender. It was animated and logical, and excited in the 
 audience a deep interest. That of La Rosa was simple and 
 laconic, being merely an appeal to pity. The accusation and 
 defence being concluded, it would be natural to suppose that 
 thereupon the opinion of the court would be made up, and 
 sentence pronounced accordingly ; but now ensued one of the 
 most extraordinary scenes which can be conceived in the 
 course of a judicial trial, casting around it a deeper solemnity 
 and horror than any of the preceding steps. 
 
 The defence being completed, the bloody corpse of the un 
 fortunate Don Jose was solemnly transferred from the Cathe 
 dral, where it had lain amid wax-lights and masses, and was 
 brought before the Council. The two criminals were then 
 posted beside it, and a new confronting took place. La 
 Rosa, the cold-blooded and hardened assassin, maintained the 
 same stern and malignant composure with which he appeared 
 from the first. If he could not escape himself, he was 
 resolved that his accomplice and master in the crime should 
 not. He re-stated and insisted on his charges against Don 
 
 O O 
 
 Juan, and entered into such a multitude of particulars, that 
 the narrative excited fresh horror and indignation. Mean 
 time, Don Juan himself endeavored to assume the air of 
 carelessness and defiance. He smoked his cigar, maintained 
 his innocence, persisted in denying the accusations of La 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 207 
 
 Rosa, and declared that it was all imposture and ca 
 lumny. 
 
 Next, the President of the Council directed the simul 
 taneous transition of the tribunal, the prisoners, the Attorney- 
 General, and the Counsel for the accused, together with the 
 ghastly corpse of the murdered victim, to the place where 
 the assassination was perpetrated. What made this solemn 
 act more appalling, was the circumstance of its being per 
 formed at the dead of night, before an immense concourse 
 of spectators, the expression of whose motley faces, as they 
 gazed on the dead body and on one another, grew wild and 
 deep in the torch-light. Again, La Rosa, standing beneath 
 the bloody stains upon the wall, confirmed all his previous 
 statements, and with singular coolness and serenity repeated 
 the minutest details of the crime. 
 
 After this the tribunal was dissolved, and its opinion, given 
 in writing, passed into the hands of the Cap tain-General for his 
 confirmation or disapprobation. The sentence being for the 
 execution of both criminals, he made not a moment s hesitation 
 to sanction and perform it ; although the family and friends of 
 Don Juan, being rich and powerful, and among the first in the 
 city for respectability and influence, made immense efforts for 
 the young lawyer s rescue. It was said that ten thousand dol 
 lars were offered by them to the Captain-General if he would 
 only commute the punishment to imprisonment for life in the 
 Presidio of Ceuta a Spanish fortress for criminals on the coast 
 of Africa, nearly opposite Gibraltar. 
 
 The tribunal being dissolved after the solemn night-sceno 
 with the corpse, the sentence being confirmed, and the ex 
 ecution appointed, Don Juan and La Rosa were placed at ten 
 o clock of the same morning in the Chapel of the Convent 
 entrar en capilla to prepare for their approaching death. 
 Entrar en capilla is an expression for which, in English, we 
 have no exact equivalent. When it is said of a criminal in 
 Spain, u Esta en capilla^ you need no other statement to 
 
208 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 inform you that in a few hours, or a day or two at farthest, 
 his execution will take place. While in the Chapel he is 
 constantly attended by priests, who say the death -masses and 
 administer the sacraments ; and thence he goes forth, accom 
 panied by his confessors, to the place of punishment. But 
 all the masses and extreme unctions in the Romish world 
 could not soothe the conscience of one of these murderers. 
 The unhappy young lawyer passed that day and the following 
 night in a febrile delirium, amid the dreadful anxieties and 
 reflections natural to his situation. From the moment of his 
 being placed en capilla, all hope forsook him. The mur 
 derer, La Rosa, made no change from his hardened and des 
 perate serenity. 
 
 At three o clock in the afternoon of the 2nd of November, 
 they came forth from the capilla, in the convent of San 
 Felipe, on their way to execution. An immense mass of the 
 population of Malaga had assembled to witness the concluding 
 melancholy act of this tragedy. In the midst of a strong de 
 tachment of troops of the line, the muffled drums playing the 
 dead march, went La Rosa, walking erect and firm, with per 
 fect self-possession ; at some little distance, sad and distressed, 
 followed Don Juan, walking between two priests, listening to 
 their exhortations, and saluting his friends and acquaintance 
 as he passed. When the melancholy procession arrived at the 
 barrio, or the open space on the banks of the Guadal-Medina, 
 where he could behold on the opposite side the beautiful 
 country seat which he owned, his eyes filled with tears as he 
 looked upon the pleasant spot for the last time. Little had he 
 anticipated, while projecting his murderous intrigues, that not 
 far from the same spot he should suffer an ignominious execu 
 tion, along with a common assassin, the hired instrument in 
 accomplishing his designs ! 
 
 It was evident that La Rosa feared, even to the last, that 
 Don Juan might escape. In a regular trial by jury, the 
 lawyers might have made much for Don Juan s defence out of 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 
 
 La Rosa s malignity. Several times, on the way from the 
 chapel to the place of execution, the assassin turned his head 
 and looked back, suspicious that his partner in the crime might 
 not be coming. " Viene ese caballero ?" said he " Is that 
 gentleman coming ?" 
 
 An open space on the west side of the Gruadal-Medina had 
 been designated for the execution, and thither had been carried 
 the corpse of the murdered young man ; the Captain-General 
 being resolved that no circumstance of horror should be want 
 ing to deter others from the commission of similar crimes. 
 And indeed the whole conduct of the affair produced an im 
 pression on the city such as never had been made before. 
 
 The fatal square being formed, La Rosa again, in a loud 
 clear voice, insisted on the truth of all his declarations. 
 Beneath the solemn adjurations of his confessor, he declared 
 that he forgave Bon Juan, and begged the bystanders to pray 
 God to pardon him ; and then in the true spirit of the Romish 
 system, prayed them to say a Credo, and a Salve to the Virgin 
 del Carmen. This was probably the particular appellation 
 under which he had been accustomed to make his own " Ora 
 pro nobis" to the Virgin MaryMaria del Carmen. 
 
 The criminals being seated together on the fatal bench, La 
 Rosa turned to Don Juan, and with an expression of the most 
 bitter sarcasm, asked " Es esta la felicidad que usted me 
 prometia?" "Is this the happiness you promised me? 7 
 Don Juan, turning to his confessor, besought him to interpose, 
 " Por Dios que no me mate ese hombre antes de tiempo!" 
 " For God s sake do not let that man kill me before the time !" 
 What more dialogue of this kind might have passed I know 
 not ; but certainly it was a foretaste of the wild world of the 
 lost, for the murderer and his tempter thus to be brought to 
 gether. 
 
 As I stood with the company of Spanish friends on the banks 
 of the Guadal-Medina, opposite the place of execution, ex 
 pecting the consummation of this tragedy of Justice, it was a 
 
210 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 moment of most painful interest. Nature seemed not at all 
 to sympathize in such a scene. The deep blue sky was cloud 
 less, the bright rays of an autumnal sun poured down with a 
 mild and genial warmth, and our temples were fanned by an 
 air of such transparent purity and delicious balminess as to 
 render the very breathing of it a luxury. In the natural 
 world all was innocent, serene, and lovely, and here we were to 
 witness the doom of men who had crimsoned the earth with 
 their brother s blood ; plotting and accomplishing a midnight 
 murder under such circumstances that no peaceful citizen 
 could be safe for a moment, if such crimes went unavenged. 
 
 As the appointed moment arrived, precisely at four o clock, 
 an officer s sword was raised in the air, and gleaming in the 
 bright sunshine as it fell, gave the signal for the death-volley. 
 A quick, sharp report, and the curling smoke from a dozen 
 muskets, told that all was over. The body of Don Juan was 
 followed to the grave by the lawyers of Malaga ; and that of 
 Rosa was buried by La Caridad, the brotherhood of 
 Charity. 
 
 This execution was on the whole most salutary in its effect 
 on the city of Malaga. I hardly ever knew such an instance 
 of sudden and awful retribution. Had the Captain-General 
 acted with less decision and promptitude had the case been 
 managed with the usual chicanery and delay of Spanish law 
 tribunals, it was thought that Malaga would have become the 
 theatre of fearful and bloody riots, which would most certainly 
 have been turned by their leaders into occasions for gratifying 
 party animosities and political vengeance. The excitement 
 was intense, and it needed but the torch applied, to kindle it 
 into a flame that would have well-nigh burned up the city. As it 
 was, even amid the Carlist war, a calm succeeded to the agi 
 tation of the public mind, and men felt more secure than before ; 
 for in the midst of the horrors of the civil conflict, no man in 
 Spain could have predicted that such an assassination in any 
 city would have been overtaken with vengeance. The fact that it 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVEK, M.D. 211 
 
 so was overtaken, and that with such stern summariness, helped 
 to save Malaga from the bloody tumults of the revolution. 
 
 Not a man doubted the guilt of Don Juan, neither was there 
 at the time much doubt as to the participation of the wife of 
 his victim in the murder. It was rumored that on one pre 
 vious occasion they had together attempted to poison Don 
 Jose. The public authorities considered her as implicated in the 
 crime ; she was therefore arrested, and for several weeks guard 
 ed by soldiers at her own house. It was thought that she would 
 be publicly executed by the garrote, a mode of execution not 
 unfrequently practised in Spain under the civil law. It is a 
 very simple, though dreadful way of exterminating life, per 
 haps invented by the inquisition. 
 
 The criminal sits in an arm chair and an iron collar is placed 
 round his neck, uniting by a screw behind, so that when the fatal 
 moment arrives, a turn or two of the screw produces such a de 
 gree of compression as to cause instant death. The wife of 
 Don Jose escaped this evil, being gradually forgotten by the 
 public after the execution of Don Juan and La Rosa ; an 
 amount of justice quite unusual in Spain, amid the shocking 
 corruption and bribery of the legal courts. I should hardly 
 be believed, if I were to relate some illustrations of the nature 
 of justice in Spain. And some of my own personal experience 
 of the manner in which a gang of robbers will set all danger 
 at defiance, and accomplish their schemes in the open villages 
 in open day, would corroborate the wildest romance. 
 
 In the daily occurrences of human life, as well as in natural 
 scenery, Spain is still as she was in the days of Don Quixote, 
 one of the most romantic countries in the world, and is con 
 stantly exemplifying the verity of the adage that truth is 
 stranger than fiction. 
 
 Ved que historia 
 
 Que aentrambosen un punto, o extrano Caso ! 
 
 Losmata, Los eucubre, y resuscita, 
 
 Una espada, un sepulchre, una memoria. 
 
 CERVAKTES. 
 
212 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 CHAP TEE X. 
 
 THE CHURCH THE MARKETS THE CONSTITUTION THE 
 
 FIESTAS AT MALAGA, AS VIEWED BY A PROTESTANT. 
 
 Whatever fruits in different climes are found, 
 That proudly rise, or humbly court the ground ; 
 Whatever blooms in torrid tracts appear, 
 Whose bright succession decks the varied year ; 
 Whatever sweets salute the northern sky 
 With vernal lives, that blossom but to die ; 
 These here disporting own the kindred soil, 
 Nor ask luxuriance from the planter s toil. 
 But small the bliss that sense alone bestows, 
 And sensual bliss is all the nation knows. 
 In florid beauty groves and fields appear ; 
 Man seems the only growth that dwindles here. 
 
 GOLDSMITH S TRAVELLER. 
 
 THE religions condition of decaying Spain its ab 
 ject submission to the ecclesiastical despotism of 
 Rome its intestine feuds, and the civil internecine 
 war then raging, weighed heavily upon the mind of 
 the Protestant visitor at Malaga, in 183T. There are 
 constant allusions to it in his Journal, and frequent 
 entries like the following, after witnessing a burial- 
 service, which is described minutely, in which a com- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 213 
 
 pany of orphan boys, called Hijos de Providencia, or 
 Children of Providence, had a conspicuous part. As 
 they go along, he says, they chant and respond. But, 
 ah ! how little is here thought of the future condition 
 of the dead ? and how unprepared, it is to be feared, 
 are the most of those who enter the eternal world 
 under the extreme unction so vainly, superstitiously 
 confided in, of the Priests of Rome ? Sad, and dark, 
 and gloomy, indeed, is the spiritual state of a Roman 
 Catholic community like this of Spain. Oh, that 
 God of his good providence might soon cause the pure 
 and blessed religion of the Gospel, with its train of 
 light and intelligent consolation, to supersede the 
 ignorance and darkness of the Man of Sin ! 
 
 Sabbath evening. May 7th, 1837. Attended service at 
 Mr. Marks, the English Consul, and heard another good ser 
 mon read from the text, " Whom having not seen ye love." 
 This evening, in my walk, I met a procession which was an 
 nounced in the Boletin this morning. It is called the pro 
 cession of the Holy Cross, or, in Spanish, La procesion de la- 
 Santa Cruz. It was preceded and followed by soldiers of 
 the National Guard, between whom walked priests and mili 
 tary officers bearing long wax candles, and six or eight others 
 carry upon their shoulders a kind of tabernacle, in which was 
 seen the Cross. There was another Cross also borne by a 
 single man, and a crimson canopy borne by several others, to 
 cover it in case of rain during the progress of the procession. 
 The nuns uncovered their heads as it came, and the houses of 
 the streets through which it passed had the balconies deco 
 rated with colored cloths. This is a part of the machinery 
 of Rome, adopted from Paganism, to tickle, and please, and 
 enslave the people ; and how well it succeeds, the religious, 
 
214: MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 I should rather say, the irreligious condition of the Spanish 
 nation too plainly proves. Alas ! the spiritual state of this 
 city, and of the country in general, is sadly degraded and 
 sunken under the long-continued, darkening reign of the 
 Roman Catholic Apostasy. 
 
 " Though poor, luxurious ; though submissive, vain ; 
 Contrasted faults through all their manners reign ; 
 Though grave, yet trifling; zealous, yet untrue ; 
 And even in penance planning sins anew. 
 All evils here contaminate the mind, 
 That opulence departed leaves behind." 
 
 May God of his mercy, who alone can do it, yet raise this 
 nation from its present low estate ! and may its people, ere 
 long, by the circulation of the pure Word of God, become 
 an enlightened and truly Christian people, and put away the 
 childish play, as well as the Satanic corruptions, of the Man 
 of Sin ! 
 
 I have had the pleasure, since I have been here, of dis 
 tributing many Bibles, Testaments, and Tracts, including 
 quite a large number of little books for children, prettily 
 bound with yellow covers, published by the English Tract 
 Society in London, which were left with me for distribution, 
 with some Spanish Bibles and other books, by an English 
 midshipman of the frigate Tyne, to whom we had a letter of 
 introduction from Rev. Mr. Rule, the missionary at Gibraltar. 
 A few of their titles are familiar in English : " The Young 
 Cottager ;" " The Happy Negro ;" " Honesty is the Best 
 Policy ;" " Little Henry and his Bearer." For a week 
 or two after I began to distribute them, (which I did only 
 in a quiet way,) the house was thronged with people after 
 them, particularly many little children pretty little girls and 
 boys, of the most respectable families, who came in quest of 
 the " libritos," or little books. Many priests also came after 
 them, and for the " Biblia entera," or the whole Bible, which 
 they manifested a great desire to obtain. It has afforded me 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEYKR, M.D. 215 
 
 great pleasure to be the instrument in thus diffusing God s 
 truth ; and I cannot but hope good may result from it, which 
 I shall never know. 
 
 Malaga, July 7th. There are now here, or were a few 
 days since, a company of four or five students, wandering 
 about the country, with guitar, flute, and tambourine, accom 
 panied by the voice, and words generally " levantadas de la 
 cabera," as the Spaniards say, or extemporaneous, according 
 as subjects may present themselves, often in praise of those 
 who give them something, and sometimes in satire of those 
 who do not. They are often from very respectable families, 
 and sometimes rich, spending their vacations in perambulating 
 the country in the garb of poor musicians in search of adven 
 tures, and to see the world ; a two-cornered hat on the head, 
 and a blanket thrown over their left shoulder. 
 
 Not long since, one came here with his companions, who 
 had a letter of recommendation to Mr. H., one of the richest 
 men in Malaga, from whom he drew what money he wanted ; 
 and in the evening, after the ambulations of the party were 
 finished for the day, he doffed his coarse garb, dressed him 
 self as a gentleman, and went into society ; but always 
 joined his musical companions again the next day. Others 
 adopt this mode to obtain something during their vacations to 
 pay their college expenses. They come from the universi 
 ties of Salamanca, Murcia, and other parts, and probably 
 have many a curious adventure to recount to their fellow- 
 students, on their return to college at the end of their amus 
 ing peregrinations. 
 
 The markets in Malaga now present to the eye a rich pro 
 fusion of fruits and vegetables ; and it is a sightly walk to 
 pass through them. Ripe cherries of two kinds, red and 
 black ; apricots, pears, apples, not quite ripe ; golden plums 
 and damsons ; brevas or early figs ; mulberries, oranges, 
 lemons, and many more different kinds, which I cannot name, 
 tempt the appetite of the passer by, whose ears are assailed 
 
216 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 with the Billingsgate cries of the men and women, some of 
 them hideous, withered old hags, that are selling them. " A 
 tres cuartos peras muy buenas ? A tres, a tres ! Cerezas 
 muy buenas !" 
 
 Besides being sold in the markets, both fruits and vege 
 tables are hawked about the streets by men, women, and 
 children of both sexes, whose sharp, shrill cries are very an 
 noying to the ear. Potatoes, beans, peas, cabbages, gree-n 
 apples, rich heaps of that delicious vegetable, the tomato, 
 lettuce, and all sorts of green stuff for salad ; beets, carrots, 
 turnips, garbanzos or Spanish peas, altramuces or lupines, 
 pumpkins, squashes, cucumbers, spinage, cauliflower, garlic, 
 onions of a prodigious size, and others, are piled up in abun 
 dance on each side as you pass along through the Mercado. 
 Grapes and melons will in a few weeks be added to the list 
 which this fine climate so abundantly affords, with little or 
 no pains to improve the modes of cultivation. By grafting, 
 the apples of this country might, doubtless, be greatly im 
 proved ; at present they are far inferior to those of our own 
 country, as are also the peaches. 
 
 The beef market of the city is not to be compared with 
 that for vegetables and fruit. There is no attention paid to 
 fattening the cattle, but they are driven to the slaughter with 
 out any special feeding, and, consequently, their flesh can 
 neither be fat nor very tender." Spanish mutton is pro 
 verbially good, and the fish market is well supplied with a 
 great variety. The little buccaronies, savory and edible be 
 yond almost any product of the sea, seem to be a peculiar 
 gift of Providence to the coast of Malaga. It may be re 
 garded as a peculiar boon to the poor, for they can be ob 
 tained very cheap, and form a good part of their living. 
 Malaga, indeed, took its original name (Malacca) from the 
 abundance of its fish. The oysters are large, but not equal 
 in taste to those of New York. 
 
 In a few weeks the prickly pears, or " Higos chumbos 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 2J 7 
 
 o de Pala," will form one of the principal street cries of the 
 boys about Malaga. Great numbers of extemporaneous tents 
 also are erected for the sale of them. The common people 
 are extravagantly fond of them, and sometimes they eat an 
 enormous number at once. It is death to drink any ardent 
 spirits or wine after eating them, as in that case they become 
 a coagulated mass in the stomach, which it cannot possibly 
 digest, and dreadful colics ensue. A little water is advan 
 tageous, and is generally taken with them. The most re 
 spectable people often go to these tents to eat this singular 
 fruit, which they are wont to devour, seeds and all. Some 
 times an officer will be met flogging along the streets persons 
 who have eaten too many of them, and then have indulged in 
 wine or spirit, and who, if not thus treated, would lie down 
 and die of colic. 
 
 July V7th. The number of Saints days and Virgin s days, 
 and holy Martyrs days, and other dias de fiesta in the Spanish 
 calendar, make up a sum almost equal to half the number of 
 days in the year. Many of them, as to abstinence from labor, 
 are observed with much more strictness than the Sabbath it 
 self. Yesterday afternoon there was a procession called La 
 Procession de Nuestra Seiiora del Carmen, which sallied out 
 of the church of that name, on the other, side of the Guadal 
 Medina, between six and seven o clock. First came a small 
 guard of Nacionales, immediately followed by the full length 
 image of a feminine saint, dressed in a long white cloak, gaily 
 ornamented, a crown on her head, and holding in one hand an 
 ink-stand and quill, in the other a book. She was carried on the 
 shoulders of four men, and is called Santa Tenza, a saint that 
 wrote a great deal, as a* Spanish lady assures me, and was 
 " Muy Literaria," of which the book and quill in her hand are 
 emblems. A priest followed next, bearing a banner, and at 
 the distance of a few rods came the celebrated Virgin, the 
 veritable image of Nuestra Senora del Carmen, standing in a 
 kind of custodium or tabernacle, having muslin curtains, drawn 
 10 
 
218 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 ** 
 
 aside, the whole carried on the shoulders of men, who every 
 now and then would stop and rest the weight of their holy 
 burden upon upright posts placed upon the ground. 
 
 After " Our Lady" came a goodly company of priests with 
 crosses, a military band of music, and as a rearguard, another 
 company of Nacionales. These at her sallying out from church 
 fired a salvo of musketry, and also at her return, and the peo 
 ple, as the procession passed along, took off their hats, though 
 they did not kneel. It passed on as far as the bridge, and 
 when Our Good Lady had arrived in a favorable situation to 
 behold the sea, she most charitably blessed it with several 
 gesticulations of her arm ; and from this, the day of the pro 
 cession in her honor, the ladies begin to bathe, and not before, 
 religiously believing that after receiving her benediction, the 
 water can do them no harm ! This kind act is performed by 
 means of joints and hinges in the arm, which are made 
 to give the necessary motion, by means of a cord inside, 
 pulled when the time comes, by the hand of some friendly 
 coadjutor, for whose assistance " Our Lady" surely ought to 
 be very thankful. 
 
 There was a little fair of fruits and toys, in the Calle del 
 Carmen, through which the procession passed, and a large con 
 course of people, with more than the usual desecration of what 
 in Protestant countries is considered, and in some measure ob 
 served as the Christian Sabbath. But alas ! if one did not 
 previously know the nature and obligations of that blessed 
 institution, a half century of years spent in Catholic 
 countries would not teach them to him from observation. 
 Wherever Popery prevails, there the Sabbath is prostrated, 
 and instead of being a blessing, is, under that wicked system, 
 turned into a curse, for during its precious hours, men s pas 
 sions run to still greater " excess of riot" than on other days. 
 I withdrew from the scene deeply pained at witnessing these 
 superstitious, degrading rites that cannot profit them that 
 are occupied therein ; and inwardly praying that the pure and 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEB, M.D. 219 
 
 blessed gospel might soon emerge clear as the sun, from the 
 stupendous mass of idolatry and error under which it now lies 
 buried. 
 
 September 9th. Yesterday afternoon was celebrated the 
 annual procession of the Nuestra Senora de la Victoria, be 
 ing formed at the Convent of that name, where the keys of 
 Malaga were surrendered to Ferdinand and Isabella in 1492. 
 The Virgin came in the centre of the procession, in a 
 mahogany tabernacle, adorned with artificial flowers, and 
 having an image of the infant Saviour at her feet, both tricked 
 out with the usual finery. The Virgin had a silver crown on 
 her head, and a half moon, or crescent of the same material 
 at her feet the whole wheeled along upon a car, close to 
 which several women were following, thinking to be healed 
 of some infirmity in this close contiguity to their Benedita 
 Sefiora. The Nacionales were all under arms, lengthening 
 the train by their military array, and, as the procession 
 arrived at two different points, discharges were made from 
 two artillery pieces, the bells of course giving their usual 
 salvo of noise. It passed down the street Victoria into the 
 Plaza de Riego, and then back to the Convent, from whence 
 this lady sallies once only in the year, the eighth of 
 September. 
 
 Amid numerous observations and records like these 
 of passing events and scenes, improving to himself for 
 the effort of composition, it is grateful to find, by 
 entries like the following, from time to time, in the 
 Private Journal, that the interests of the soul and the 
 Culture of personal religion, were not neglected : 
 
 Sabbath afternoon, July 23rd. This day I have solemnly 
 renewed my covenant with God ; and oh, that he may grant 
 me strength to keep it better than I have yet done. His 
 grace alone is sufficient for me. To my deep sorrow, in the 
 
220 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 bitterness of my soul have I again and again experienced my 
 own utter weakness and folly my readiness to fall into 
 temptation, and depart from the Lord. Oh that it may never 
 more be thus ! Lord, keep me evermore near to thee. 
 u Never let me from thee wander ; keep me near thee till I 
 die." In Cowper s words would I say : 
 
 .But. ah ! my inward spirit cries, 
 
 Still bind me to thy sway ; 
 Else the next cloud that veils the skies, 
 
 Drives all these thoughts away. 
 
 Perhaps more than at any former period of my Christian 
 course (though it is needed at all times), is the necessity now 
 more urgent of fervent, constant prayer. I am here in this 
 Roman Catholic city, where the Sabbath is observed by all 
 classes merely as a day of recreation ; I see all around me care 
 less and unconcerned for their immortal souls ; and this where 
 there is no temple dedicated to the pure worship of God, and the 
 preaching of the blessed Gospel where there is no one that 
 I know of with whom to enjoy Christian communion and fel 
 lowship. 
 
 By the unspeakable goodness of God, my health is vastly 
 improved ; but this, in one sense, furnishes another reason 
 for increased energy, watchfulness, and prayer, as, in propor 
 tion as my strength increases, so increases the strength of my 
 animal nature, Here, then, must I diligently watch against 
 temptation. u Keep under my body, and bring it into sub 
 jection." I am -alone. I have no one to commune with 
 freely upon the things that pertain to the kingdom of God to 
 the everlasting welfare of the immortal soul. Oh, Holy 
 Spirit, Divine Comforter, be thou my guide; iake of^th^ 
 things of Christ and show them unto me, and impart to my 
 soul sweet peace and joy in believing in him. Blessed Jesus, 
 be thou my friend, whose love never faileth. Let me ever 
 abide at the foot of thy cross, and there may all my sins be 
 washed away by faith in thy precious blood. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVER, M.D. 221 
 
 " Help me to reach the distant goal, 
 
 Confirm the feeble knee ; 
 Pity the sickness of a soul 
 That faints for love of thee. 
 
 I seem forsaken and alone, 
 
 I hear the lion roar ; 
 And every door is shut but one 
 
 Yet that is mercy s door. 
 
 There till the dear Deliverer come, 
 
 I ll wait with humble prayer ; 
 And when he calls his exile home, 
 
 The Lord shall find him there." 
 
 Sabbath evening, September 17 th, 1837. This morning, at 
 twelve o clock, in compliance with previous arrangement, I 
 went to the lodgings of a young man, an Englishman, by the 
 name of Cooper, where we united in reading the beautiful 
 service of the Church of England, and I hope with some 
 spiritual enjoyment and devotion. This young man has spent 
 a considerable part of his life in the British provinces of 
 North America, where his friends now reside. He has come to 
 Malaga for his health, and is writing in a counting-house. He 
 is the only person I am acquainted with in Malaga, who seems to 
 have any true interest in spiritual things. Yesterday he wrote me 
 a note, proposing that we should meet on the forenoon of 
 Sunday, and join together in the service of the Church, thus 
 signalizing that day by some social religious act. This I am 
 most glad to do, the family of the British Consul having gone 
 to England ; and hope it may be attended with our mutual 
 benefit. To-day an American captain and his wife dined 
 with us. I have had to listen and take part in much miscel 
 laneous conversation. I may say with emphasis, in the words 
 of a beautiful hymn of Steele : 
 
 Alas, what hourly dangers rise \ 
 
 What snares beset my way ! 
 To heaven then let me lift mine eyes, 
 
 And hourly watch and pray. 
 
222 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 I am, indeed, surrounded with evil influences, with snares 
 and temptations, and spiritual enemies, both within and with 
 out. I have done wrong this afternoon in walking out with 
 the company we had, and thus involving myself in a sea of 
 perplexing doubts, and recriminations of conscience. I will 
 not do it again, the Lord helping me. I will endeavor to act 
 in all things as conscience dictates, and never go contrary to 
 it. This will cost me a struggle, for I am not unfrequently in 
 situations where much decision is needed ; but by the grace 
 of God, I will exercise it. I will strive to keep the Sabbath 
 holy, even to the end of it. I will make it a day of spiritual 
 reading, meditation and prayer " a day holy unto the Lord, 
 honorable." I will, by the grace and assistance of God, strive 
 to have a conscience void of offence in all things towards God 
 and towards man. And gracious and blessed Redeemer, 
 help me so to do, and mercifully purge my conscience from all 
 the stains of guilt it has contracted. " Wash me thoroughly 
 from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sins ;" and grant 
 me that purity and solid peace, which the world can neither 
 give nor take away. 
 
 A letter to his eldest brother, then in London, about 
 this time, alluding to recent intelligence from America 
 says : 
 
 How rejoiced am I to hear of the revival in New York ! 
 What blessed news, and how should I delight to have some 
 pleasant Christian friend to participate in the joy it occasions. 
 But there is here no one like-minded, who cares for these 
 things, and to whom to communicate such news with any pros 
 pect of reciprocation. One thing I am able to do ; I can turn 
 the current of my joy into the channel of praise and prayer, 
 for the continuance of this precious blessing, and for its ex 
 tension over our whole beloved land. Perhaps the Lord means 
 to make this a year signal, and long to be remembered by his 
 church, and by many rejoicing converts, for the glorious out- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVEE, M.D. 223 
 
 pouring of bis Holy Spirit. May He in the abundance of Hia 
 mercy, and almigbty power, grant tbat it may be so. I long 
 to bear the particulars of this blessed work, and whether the 
 same Holy Agent continues to display His power in our be 
 loved native place. 
 
 I have to overcome a great deal of inertia in writing in my 
 journal. But taking for my motto " Labor omnia vincit," I 
 mean to achieve a complete description of all we have seen 
 and met with. 
 
 A letter to his sister in Hallowell, at the same period 
 notes with thankfulness the improvement in his health, 
 and contains his itinerary of a day in Malaga, which 
 sheds instructive light upon his character and habits 
 at that time. 
 
 MY VERY DEAR SISTER. I am continually thinking of 
 you all, and often, very often, I endeavor to paint your proba 
 ble situation before me in my mind s eye, and imagine myself 
 present, conversing with my beloved Mother and sister. 
 Particularly when your welcome letters are received, does my 
 heart leap out in earnest longing to behold your faces, and en 
 joy the sweet reality of a personal interview. And how would 
 such an interview gladden your hearts, for you would see in my 
 appearance the ocular demonstration of a vast improvement 
 in my health. I have not had the slightest attack of asthma 
 for two months, and the one I then experienced was very light. 
 Indeed my system seems now to be fairly emerging from the 
 bondage of that distressing disorder, which has so long cramped 
 its energies, and hindered me from the fulfilment of my 
 fondest wishes ; and with cheerful gratitude would I record 
 this unspeakable blessing, and pray for its continuance, and 
 that I may have grace to use all my returning health and 
 strength in the pure and blessed service of Him who gives it. 
 When I compare my present comfortable health with my ex- 
 
224 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 hausted, suffering, and almost dying condition, last year, at 
 this time under my own native roof, administered to and 
 alleviated by the fond attentions of my beloved Mother and 
 sister, well may my heart be filled with gratitude at the 
 change, and that I am now in a state not to need those tender 
 cares, though far removed from all those so dear to me, who 
 Lave been wont to bestow them. 
 
 It is now more than five weeks since I began to bathe 
 regularly every day in the sea, except the Sabbath, and it has 
 been of great advantage to my health ; besides I have 
 learned, perfectly, that noble and useful art of swimming. 
 I "get up every morning at half-past five, and go down with 
 my compaiiero, Uncle s servant, Jose, to enjoy the luxury of 
 my bath in the blue waters of the Mediterranean, which I can 
 assure you is very grateful. There are several other 
 Spanish young gentlemen, that bathe at the same time 
 and place with myself, though the greater part of the people 
 bathe in the evening. At that time, between eight and nine 
 or ten o clock, the highest Senoritas and Sefloras in Malaga, as 
 well as the lowest, avail themselves of this healthful and re 
 freshing amusement ; and perhaps our New England ladies 
 would be astonished to hear that there are many of them 
 very good swimmers. 
 
 After my bath, I generally take an hour s walk, then 
 return to my room, and commence the duties of the day. We 
 have breakfast about nine, and the forenoon I generally devote 
 to studying the Spanish, and recite a lesson to Magdalena after 
 dinner. Eetween one and two o clock I take a short walk, 
 and go into the Gabinete de Lectura, or Reading Room, which 
 was established here at the commencement of the year, and is 
 a very pleasant place of resort. As Uncle is a sub 
 scriber, I have a carte blanche. The principal Spanish 
 periodicals, as well as French and English papers, are here 
 taken, and Uncle receives from time to time files of New York 
 papers, so that I do not fail to be informed of news from all 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEE, M.D. 225 
 
 parts of the world, that from my own beloved country, as you 
 may naturally suppose, always taking precedence in interest. 
 
 After dinner, which we have a little before three o clock, 
 having spent an hour with Magdalena, I read or write, often 
 the latter in my journal, and at evening take a walk. I retire 
 to bed between ten and eleven, and now, dear E. I have given 
 you the history of a day, having been thus particular in com 
 pliance with your known and oft expressed desires. 
 
 We are as a family one, " Our fears, our hopes, our aims 
 are one, our comforts and our cares." I often think of this 
 beautiful hymn, and sometimes sing it, though it is singing the 
 songs of Zion in a strange land, for I have no Christian friend 
 to unite with me in its spirit. How blessed it is that besides 
 the bonds of natural affection which bind us, we are also joined 
 in heart by the strong delightful ties of Christian love and 
 fellowship, and though we are now widely separated in space, 
 may this happy union be daily more and more firmly cemented 
 till we are one in heaven. 
 
 " The homes of this world become dim and decay, 
 
 And friends, when they meet, are too soon called to sever ; 
 But the mansions prepared in the regions of day, 
 
 Stand beaming and beautiful ever and ever , 
 And those, whom the Saviour shall lead to that shore, 
 Shall stray from its mansions and part never-more." 
 
226 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 THE EXPERIMENT AND EXPERIENCE OF A VOYAGE TO 
 SOUTH AMERICA, WITH NOTES UPON MONTEVIDEO AND 
 BUENOS AYRES. 
 
 There is no light without companion shade ; 
 
 There are no griefs which do not herald joys : 
 In Nature s balance all are fairly weighed, 
 
 And every thing must have its equipoise. 
 There is no gold withouten some alloys, 
 
 And no alloys which are entirely dross ; 
 Day weighs with darkness silence follows noise ; 
 
 Life has two sides its profit and its loss. 
 
 ANON. 
 
 LEAVING, with regret, the salubrious clime of Anda 
 lusia, where, as we have seen, the experiment upon 
 the health of the invalid was in successful progress, 
 we are out once more upon the swelling Atlantic. 
 "We have noted the improvement effected in the sum 
 mer of 1837, and the joy and gratitude elicited by 
 the prospect of returning health. We have seen how 
 life could be enjoyed by one every way fitted for its 
 enjoyment, when the grasp of disease was somewhat 
 relaxed. 
 
 The short period of sunshine must now be followed 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 227 
 
 by a long one of shade. The joy of health must give 
 place to the grief of sickness. The sparkling wine of 
 life must be dashed with its wormwood. The profit 
 and the loss must alternate, in order perhaps that cha 
 racter may gain its equipoise ; certainly that the wise, 
 though inscrutable purposes of God s gracious dis 
 cipline may be accomplished with his child, and that 
 it may be seen hereafter, if not now, how all things 
 work together for good to them that love God. 
 
 ~Not forgetting the principle of letting well enough 
 alone, nor without some doubts on the score of ex 
 pediency, but over-ruled by the opinion and advice of 
 others, by whom he had, in a measure, to be governed, 
 the beloved subject of these memorials again departed 
 upon a long sea voyage, for which there offered a 
 favorable opportunity in the autumn of 1837, from 
 Malaga to Montevideo and Buenos Ayres, in the 
 bark Isaac Ellis, Capt. Spring. His Private Journal at 
 the time evinces considerable solicitude and doubt in 
 respect to the change and undertaking. But, in the 
 order of Divine Providence, it w T as so to be. Letters 
 to his Sister, dated at sea, October 26th, 1837, and 
 afterwards at Montevideo, let us into his estate, em 
 ployments, and prospects on shipboard, and after 
 arriving again at land : 
 
 Bark Isaac Ellis, Long. 30 W. 
 
 MY DEARLY BELOVED SISTER Our voyage may now 
 fairly be considered as half accomplished. 
 
 You will naturally wish to know of my present situation 
 and employments on shipboard, and I can with pleasure give 
 you the particulars. Captain S. and myself occupy the after 
 
228 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 cabin of the vessel a small, but nevertheless comfortable 
 little place, separated by a partition from the cabin in which 
 we eat, and where the first and second mates have their 
 berths. Here, if you could some evening peep in, particu 
 larly that of the Sabbath, you might find us seated upon the 
 transoms, on our respective sides of the cabin, singing to 
 gether one of the sweet songs of Zion, and talking of home 
 and native land the Captain of his wife and " bairns," and 
 I of a dear Mother, Sister, and Brothers. I find him on 
 shipboard as he was on land a gentlemanly, agreeable, intel 
 ligent man, and one actuated by Christian principle, the sea 
 and the command of his own vessel not having caused that 
 metamorphosis which took place in our quondam captain. 
 No work but that absolutely necessary in managing the vessel 
 is done on the Sabbath ; the decks are quiet, and the men 
 may improve the day if they will, in a proper manner, which, 
 alas, few, in the true spiritual sense of the word, are disposed 
 to do. 
 
 My employments principally alternate between reading and 
 writing. In Spanish I am reading Don Quixote, which I 
 commenced long since. I read a chapter daily in the Spanish 
 Bible, having already finished the New Testament. 
 
 You may be assured, dear E., that it was not in itself from 
 any desire of roving that I have become again a wanderer on 
 the deep. Oh, how gladly would I return if my health would 
 permit, and again nestle down in the quiet home of my child 
 hood s happy hours, where we have, in later years, enjoyed 
 so much delightful Christian communion and fellowship. 
 u Those peaceful hours we once enjoyed, How sweet their 
 memory still." Sweet indeed is their recollection ; and may 
 the Lord, in his unspeakable goodness, permit us again to 
 renew them, with the blessings on both sides of health and 
 happy peace. 
 
 The circumstance which perhaps has annoyed me more 
 than anything else, in leaving Malaga so suddenly, was the 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVER, M.D. 229 
 
 uncertainty I am in conc,<e$|iing the future movements of dear 
 George, and the surprise and regret that my unexpected de 
 parture may occasion him. I do most earnestly hope that by 
 the blessing of God we may meet again at Malaga, on his 
 return to the United States in the spring. My return, I 
 dare not say, sweet as it would be to have it in prospect. 
 When it may be I can little foretol, or what may be my 
 future situation and circumstances in life, if it should be pro 
 longed. " The way of man is not in himself: it is not in a 
 man that walketh to direct his steps." May the Lord in 
 much mercy " order all my footsteps by his word," and guide 
 me in all my paths in the way that shall be most for his own 
 glory and my highest good. I surely have much reason for 
 gratitude in the very great improvement that has taken place 
 in my health during my residence at Malaga. The hope of 
 getting rid of my asthma in a hurry, I have quite given up. 
 It has got too strong a hold, and become too thoroughly inter 
 twined with my very constitution, to be thus easily loosened. 
 
 The utter uncertainty of my future course in life, makes 
 me often perplexed and undecided as to what studies I shall 
 most direct my attention. With what an ardent zest with how 
 much delight, if my health would only permit, could I quietly 
 sit down to a course of hard, thorough, systematic study, with 
 a view to preparation for the Gospel ministry, unworthy ves 
 sel though I should be of bearing so rich a treasure. But 
 this fondly-cherished, long-indulged hope, though I cannot 
 help yet tenderly clinging to it, perhaps, considering my 
 health, I ought to abandon. It may be more my duty to 
 address myself to the pursuits of commerce, or of some active 
 business life. 
 
 At the same time we find liis soul breathing itself in 
 
 O 
 
 the pages of his Diary as follows : 
 
 My heart mourns at being so far separated from my brother 
 abroad, and all my other beloved friends ; and I sometimes 
 
230 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 feel greatly perplexed and in doubt whether I ought to have 
 taken this voyage. Oh Lord, wilt thou in thy mercy show by 
 its beneficial results, that it was not a mis-step. Direct my 
 steps, and guide me in all my ways. Save me from future 
 temptation, and forgive my innumerable past transgressions. 
 Preserve me, oh Lord, from depression and unbelief. Grant 
 me a strong and overcoming faith in Jesus my Great Re 
 deemer, my Atonement, and High Priest. We do not have 
 worship on the Sabbath as I could wish ; but all unnecessary 
 labor is suspended, and stillness reigns on board, the crew 
 being at rest, and at liberty to spend the Lord s Day in a 
 proper manner. 
 
 Montevideo , November 24tk, 1837. I think I may say that 
 I never felt more deeply my cause for gratitude, at once more 
 finding myself upon the solid land, after a voyage upon the 
 deceitful ocean, and a merciful preservation from all its perils. 
 How thankfully would I add, with health greatly improved by 
 the voyage ; but with a reluctant sadness I am compelled to 
 state, for I know your fond hearts will be grieved by the in 
 telligence that my strong hopes of benefit from this voyage 
 have been completely defeated. For the last three weeks of 
 it, I was a constant sufferer from my distressing disorder. 
 Thus has the Lord seen fit again " to weaken my strength by 
 the way," and disappoint my fondest hopes. I would feel 
 that it is he who hath done it, and would bow with submission, 
 to his will. " Though he slay me, yet will I trust in Him." 
 
 " Although assurance all be lost. 
 
 And blooming hopes cut off I see ; 
 Yet will I in my Saviour trust, 
 And glory that he died for me." 
 
 Blessed be the name of the Lord, he has not left me com 
 fortless in my affliction. I do feel sweet peace something 
 of that which the world can neither give nor take away in 
 committing myself and my dearly beloved friends from whom 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 231 
 
 I am so far separated, and all our interests for time and for 
 eternity, into the hands of him, who is, I trust, to us all, a 
 faithful, covenant-keeping God. His will be done. 
 
 I am much better since I came on shore. I find myself 
 very pleasantly accommodated at the Fonda del Yapor, kept 
 by a Mr. Palmer, an American. There is no doubt, I think, 
 that by the Lord s blessing I shall recruit greatly during my 
 stay here and at Buenos Ayres. The weather is very warm 
 and pleasant ; there is a profusion of fruits and vegetables, and 
 ripe strawberries of an enormous size, in abundance, this being 
 here the last month of spring, which corresponds to our May. 
 I feel much better for an escape from the confinement of 
 shipboard, having the whole city before me to exercise in, in 
 stead of the narrow limits of a ship s decks. 
 
 At the same time, in a letter to his brother Henry, 
 he says : 
 
 During my sufferings upon the voyage, I was not a little 
 perplexed and depressed by feeling doubtful whether I ought 
 to have undertaken it, and fearful the plan might not meet 
 the approbation of my beloved friends, with various other un 
 believing suggestions, which greatly harassed me. But I 
 determined at last to cast all my care upon the Lord to 
 solve all my doubts by humble faith in him, even though I 
 might have taken an erroneous step, and misinterpreted the 
 leadings of his Providence. I tried to act conformably to 
 the sentiment of one of Cowper s most beautiful hymns : 
 
 Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, 
 
 But trust him for his grace, 
 Behind a frowning Providence, 
 He hides a smiling face. 
 
 How delightful ! how consoling is every verse of it ! His 
 hymns in the Selection, as well as those there of other authors, 
 have afforded me great consolation, even when my voice has 
 
232 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 been too weak, and my breath too short to allow me (as I 
 would often fain do), to sing forth aloud their sweet stanzas. 
 How would I delight, if it could be so in health, to be now 
 sitting with you at our own snug little fireside, listening with 
 quiet enjoyment, to some of our favorite hymns, from the 
 voice and piano of our own sweet Sister ! O how my heart 
 yearns for fresh news from you all, and what a long, weary 
 time it may be yet, ere I receive it ! I shall probably be 
 here and at Buenos Ayres till the first or middle of January. 
 
 "We turn now to the Religions Journal of date 
 
 O 
 
 Montevideo. 
 
 Sabbath Evening, Nov. 21th. I have had rather a suffer 
 ing day from asthma, though much better than last Sabbath. 
 This evening had a pleasant season of prayer, walking upon 
 the house-top, and enjoying the pure, fresh air, which is here 
 very dry and elastic. The asthma still hangs with its leaden 
 weight upon my constitution, depresses my animal spirits, 
 and draws away my vigor. Still would I not complain, but 
 endeavor meekly to bow, and say, " Thy will, Lord, be 
 done." I have read to-day the 38th chapter of Isaiah, which 
 contains the account of Hezekiah s sickness, and miraculous 
 cure. 
 
 With much emphasis can I use some of his words and find 
 them my most appropriate petitions. u Lord, I am op 
 pressed j undertake for me." " Undertake for me." " Heal 
 me and I shall be healed ;" grant, if it is thy will, that this 
 evil disease which now cleaveth fast to me, may be removed. 
 But, deny me not one thing, for Jesus sake deny it not ; O 
 grant that whatever may be the dispensations of thy will, 
 whatever thou mayst ordain, " pleasing or painful, dark or 
 bright," may by thy grace bo abundantly sanctified to my 
 highest spiritual good ; that these afflictions, which compared 
 with eternity, endure but for a moment, may " work out for 
 me afar more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." Have 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEE, M.D. 233 
 
 not been out abroad to-day. There is here no Protestant 
 church, but at Buenos Ayres I hope to enjoy the privilege of 
 once more entering a temple dedicated to the pure, spiritual 
 worship of God. On the fifteenth, in much bodily weakness, 
 but I trust, spiritual sincerity, I renewed my covenant with God, 
 that day being its seventh anniversary. O Lord, I entreat 
 thee, grant me grace to walk according to its tenor. 
 
 December 11 th, Sabbath Evening. The last week I have 
 been suffering much, from a renewed attack of asthma. 
 Last Sabbath was very unwell as it was just commencing. 
 How my heart longs for news from my dear friends, and for 
 their sweet endearing society ! Have read this afternoon a 
 few pages in the " Way to do good." May I view thine 
 hand. in all my sufferings, Lord, and have grace meekly and 
 sincerely to say " Thy will be done." 
 
 It was here that lie made up the following narrative 
 and log of his voyage, in a correspondence for the New 
 York Observer : 
 
 Montevideo, Dec., 1837. We set sail from the Mediter 
 ranean port of Malaga, on a fine sunny day, the first of 
 October. The early morning, a strange thing in that loveliest 
 of climates, had been foggy ; but the sun soon chased the vapors 
 over the sides and tops of the vine-clad mountains of Anda 
 lusia, and by sunset, under the influence of a very gentle 
 easterly breeze, we were gliding gradually along in sight of the 
 grey rock of Gibraltar. 
 
 The nest morning, between nine and ten, we were just 
 abreast of it, the rock with its impregnable fortifications, 
 barracks, hospitals, and other buildings, wearing even a more 
 singular appearance than usual ; its venerable summit being 
 entirely enveloped in a thick bank of mist, while over our 
 heads the bright sun was shining clearly, and the heavens free 
 from a cloud. As we rapidly opened the bay of Gibraltar, 
 
234- MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 with a pleasant breeze filling our sails, the scene was beautiful. 
 The blue outline of the African coast, with the classic waters 
 of the Mediterranean, were spread out on our left to the east 
 ward ; on our right, to the West and North, Algeciras and the 
 Spanish coast rose like an amphitheatre, with the rock and 
 town of Gibraltar, and the shipping in the bay ; while in front 
 we held our own course between the two continents of Europe 
 and Africa. 
 
 About twelve o clock we passed Tarifa with a fine fresh 
 breeze, studding sails set, and dashing along at a rapid rate 
 Its old Moorish and Spanish fortifications give it a romantic 
 appearance. And indeed the historical associations connected 
 with it have a deep interest, for it was at this point, about 
 A. D. 713, that the Moorish troops first invaded Spain, under 
 the command of that famous Captain, Taric el Tuerto or 
 Taric the one eyed, whose achievements "Washington Irving 
 has celebrated in one of his volumes of the Crayon Miscellany 
 
 " He chose a dark night to convey his troops across the 
 Straits of Hercules, and by break of day they began to disem 
 bark at Tarifa before the country had time to take the alarm. 
 A few Christians hastily assembled in the neighborhood, and 
 opposed their landing, but were easily put to flight. Taric 
 stood on the sea side, and watched until the last squadron had 
 landed, and all the horses, armor, and munitions of war, were 
 brought on shore. He then gave orders to fire the ships. 
 The Moslems were struck with terror when they beheld their 
 fleet wrapped in flames and smoke, and sinking beneath the 
 waves. c How shall we escape, exclaimed they, if the fortune 
 of war should be against us ? l There is no escape for the 
 coward ! cried Taric, < the brave man thinks of none ; your 
 only chance is victory. But how without ships shall we ever 
 return to our homes ? c Your home, replied Taric, l is be 
 fore you ; but you must win it with your swords. 
 
 We could see very plainly, close under the point, the wreck 
 of the magnificent steam-ship " Don Juan," which was here 
 
OF NATHAJSTIEL CIIEEVEE, M.D. 235 
 
 , 
 
 lost about fifteen or twenty days previous in a fog, probably 
 through the negligence or incapacity of the captain, who judg 
 ing himself far enough out to steer N. W. for Cadiz, brought 
 his vessel full up on Tarifa point. She was a perfectly new 
 and splendidly finished steam-ship of 800 tons, having cost 
 more than 40,000 sterling, this being only her second voy 
 age between London and Malaga, touching at Lisbon, Cadiz 
 and Gibraltar. The passengers and crew, with their baggage 
 and the specie on board, were all saved, but all her splendid 
 finishing, her rich adornments, are the mockery of the waves 
 in the stables of sea monsters. Beneath the troubled surface 
 of the mighty ocean, what untold treasures, what fearful and 
 curious remains, outrun the wildest dreams of Shakspeare s 
 imagination. 
 
 Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks ; 
 A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon ; 
 Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, 
 Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, 
 - All scatter d in the bottom of the sea ; 
 Some lay in dead men s skulls; and in those holes 
 Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept 
 (As twere in scorn of eyes) reflecting gems, 
 That woo d the slimy bottom of the deep, 
 And mock d the dead bones that lay scatter d by. 
 
 At evening we had left far behind the land of both con 
 tinents, Cape Trafalgar on the European side, and Cape 
 Spartel on the African. A Spanish barque that left Malaga 
 about the same time with ourselves, was nowhere to be seen. 
 The broad Atlantic lay before us, and many a day to sail upon 
 its restless bosom, ere we could reach our destined port. In 
 such a case, whether time passes tediously or not, must depend 
 very much on the direction of the voyage, and the particular 
 temperament of each individual. With us the voyage was 
 agreeably enlivened, and its monotony broken, ere it had 
 begun to be felt, by passing in sight of two interesting groups 
 of islands, the Canaries and Cape de Verd. 
 
236 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Saturday, Oct. 7. Latitude 28 cleg. 16 min. N., longitude 
 16 deg. 46 min. w. This morning we came in sight of the 
 Peak of Teneriffe, and have been sailing along in view of 
 several of the Canaries all day. The appearance of the Peak 
 was singularly majestic and sublime. When we first dis 
 covered it, nothing was to be seen but its very top, its 
 bald head peering up into the heavens at an immense height 
 above the bank of clouds that surrounded the horizon, and 
 calmly looking out in silent majesty over the thick, foggy 
 atmosphere of the regions below. In the course of the fore 
 noon the clouds dispersed, and we had for several hours a full 
 view of this celebrated mountain, said by geographers to be 
 13,500 feet in height. The whole island is very high land, 
 and rises rather gradually to the immense height of the Peak 
 About noon we passed along the island of G-omera, on our 
 larboard side, generally bearing about southeast. The side 
 presented to our view appeared rough and barren, the eye 
 being able to discern with the glass but two or three spots at 
 all cultivated. Passing Teneriffe, we had on our starboard 
 side, very far distant, the island of Palma. 
 
 This afternoon we have been passing between Gromera and 
 Ferro, bearing about N. E. and S. W. Ferro is the island 
 from which the Portuguese charts were anciently graduated. 
 The Canaries, as well as Madeira and the Cape de Verds, 
 are all under Portuguese dominion. Madeira we passed yes 
 terday ; but much to my regret, the weather was so cloudy 
 that we could not see it. The water to-day has not been at 
 all discolored by our vicinity to land, retaining the same deep 
 blue that marks it in the middle of the Atlantic. These 
 islands rise suddenly from the ocean, having no soundings 
 from one to the other, or in the water around them thrown 
 up, doubtless, from the bed of the deep Jby some volcanic 
 eruption. 
 
 Friday evening, October 13th. Lat. 16 39 N. long. 
 25 55 W. Last evening, about eight o clock, we came 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEYEE, M.D. 23 7 
 
 fully in sight of San Antonio, the northwesternmost island of 
 the Cape de Verd group. The night was magnificent, and I 
 remained on deck a long time, enjoying its beauties and gaz 
 ing on the high land of the island which reared itself far 
 above the ocean to the south. The wind was very light, the 
 sea gently ruffled, and our good bark glided slowly along be 
 neath the silver rays of a beautiful moon, illumining our 
 path over the mighty waters, and bringing out in solemn, 
 majestic relief against the horizon, the elevated island we 
 were passing. There was something in the perfect stillness 
 of the night, and in the whole scene around us, that seemed 
 to command our inmost souls to a solemn, holy silence before 
 the Almighty Architect of the universe the being, whose 
 works by night so emphatically " declare his glory" who 
 himself seemed presently saying, "Be still, and know that I 
 am God." 
 
 This is the group of islands that suffered so terribly 
 a few years since from famine, when relief was humanely 
 sent them from the United States. One of the vessels that 
 then carried them provisions was bound to the same port as 
 ourselves, Buenos Ayres, taking that singular zig-zag course 
 the usual one for vessels from the United States bound to 
 Buenos Ayres, even when they do not touch at the islands. 
 The object is to get advantage of the southeast trade winds 
 which commence in a few degrees lower latitude ; and the 
 northeast trades being of equal benefit in coming to that 
 point from America, as they have been to us in sailing from 
 the Straits of Gibraltar. We are now in the latitude of the 
 light, changeable winds, called the " Variables," which pre 
 vail between the two trades about losing the N. E. and not 
 having yet entered the latitude of the S. E. On the ninth 
 we crossed the tropic of Cancer. The thermometer ranges 
 from 70 to 80 in the shade. 
 
 Saturday, I4lh. Last evening we witnessed an eclipse of 
 the moon. An eclipse at sea is, perhaps, on some accounts, 
 
238 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 more peculiarly impressive than on land. The beautiful 
 moon seems a friend to the mariner in his lonely way over 
 the deep ; and when, as last night, having risen in all her 
 glory, mildly illumining our path, her full round orb becomes 
 gradually darkened and hid from view, there is a solemn and 
 almost awfal glory investing all objects. The ship ploughs 
 her way darkly and silently along everything is still the 
 stars which were before hardly to be seen, now start out in 
 numerable from the splendid vault of heaven, their twinkling 
 soon again in their turn eclipsed, and cheerfulness restored to 
 the scene by the returning glories of their superior lumin 
 ary. 
 
 October 23rd. We have probably taken the S. E. trades, 
 though they have not yet become settled from the usual quar 
 ter. I can now testify, from my own observation, to the 
 truth of all that has been said as to the worms that are gene 
 rated in the Malaga fruit. Our cargo consists of fruit, wine, 
 olives, etc. ; and for two weeks past we have been overrun 
 with that kind of live stock. They have come out into the 
 cabin in immense numbers, and penetrated into every nook 
 and crevice they can find into books, clothes, and trunks, 
 weaving a light web at the end of their vermicular wander 
 ings, and enclosing themselves in it to hatch their eggs and 
 die. They are about an inch long, fat and oily, and, if killed 
 upon paper, they leave a greasy stain. The Captain tells us 
 that the same fruit, if kept in store, will have another crop 
 of worms six or eight months hence. 
 
 October 2oth.Lat. 24 S., long. 28 10 IT. This 
 morning, about seven o clock, we crossed the Equator, trans 
 ferred in a moment by that simple imaginary line from the 
 northern to the southern hemisphere. This noon we were 
 twenty-four miles south of it, according to the latitude I have 
 given. We have seen immense numbers of flying fish, and 
 several have flown aboard. They have a singular and beauti 
 ful appearance, as they skim along in immense schools just 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVEK, M.D. 239 
 
 above the waves, in which they often light, dip their wings, 
 and take a fresh start, keeping above water till they become 
 dry, when they are compelled again to drop into their native 
 element ; perhaps, poor things, to become the prey of some 
 swift dolphin, whose eager pursuit they were eluding by a 
 temporary flight in the air. 
 
 November 14th. We have had several albatrosses wheeling 
 their majestic circles round the vessel one grey-headed, 
 venerable-looking fellow, of an immense size, whose skin, well 
 stuffed, and placed in one of our museums, would attract at 
 tention. He would form a most excellent prototype of the 
 albatross in the " Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner," some pas 
 sages of which, read by one at sea, have an import that is 
 almost terrific. How expressive the following verse to one 
 who has been becalmed : 
 
 Day after day, day after day, 
 
 We stuck, nor breath nor motion, 
 As idle as a painted ship 
 
 Upon a painted ocean. 
 
 The next verse is truly terrific in its import, and almost 
 makes one s mouth parch in reading it : 
 
 Water, water, everywhere ; 
 
 The very boards did shrink. 
 Water, water, everywhere 
 
 Nor any drop to drink 
 
 November \lth. This day we arrived in sight of the land 
 of South America, about forty miles S. W. of Cape Santa 
 Maria, very low, and to an unpractised eye, at first scarcely 
 perceptible. Last evening the sun set most magnificently, 
 the sky unsullied by even the slightest cloud, and the atmo 
 sphere of a most transparent clearness. The Magellan clouds 
 were more distinctly visible than they have been during the 
 voyage. They seem to be a cluster of stars, appearing like 
 two detached portions of what is called the " Milky Way," 
 
240 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 lighter than the most fleecy summer cloud. They are gene 
 rally seen about as high as the Equator. Magellan, the 
 Spanish navigator, who first passed the Straits which bear his 
 name, gave it also to these constellations . 
 
 Yesterday morning we began to perceive a decided change 
 in the color of the water, from the deep blue of mid-ocean 
 to a dark sea green, indicating our approach to soundings, 
 which we obtained in the afternoon, in forty fathoms, and 
 again in the evening in thirty. The lead has been thrown 
 frequently to-day, bringing up fine sand and shells sticking to 
 the piece of a candle which is jammed for this purpose into a 
 suitable hole left in the lower end. Now commenced a season 
 of watchfulness and anxiety for the Captain, far more weari 
 some than when on mid-ocean, with abundant sea-room in 
 case of storm. He must set his courses and have his ship 
 steered with the greatest exactness, and cautiously guard 
 against the influence of dangerous and variable currents, as 
 a small mistake might now lose his vessel. 
 
 Many useful and appropriate illustrations, if the heart be 
 disposed for such meditations, may be drawn from the naviga 
 tion of a ship, and a sea life, for the spiritual voyage of the 
 Christian. He, too, must guard most sedulously against the 
 currents and counter-currents in his course the ebb and flow 
 of temptation and prejudice, for which he must always make 
 allowance in his spiritual account. He will often have to 
 u brace up" sharp against a head wind and a head sea of 
 opposing passions and influences ; still, like the mariner, he 
 must keep his spiritual bark " stiff" upon her true course, 
 however tossed and driven he may be by adverse gales, cheered 
 in the darkest hour by the blessed assurance that " skilful s 
 the pilot who sits at the helm ;" and, that though unseen by 
 mortal eyes, he will guide in safety his faithful disciple to the 
 haven of eternal rest, to that blest shore. 
 
 Where tempests never beat, nor billows roar. 
 
 Yours, etc., N. C. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEB, M.D. 24:1 
 
 We give here a few more extracts from the South 
 American Journal, embracing the natural observations 
 of a traveller in realms yet to be the fair abodes of 
 regenerated humanity. 
 
 Montevideo, Wednesday, Dec. IQth, 1837. Since my last 
 date I have been rambling about the .city, as health would 
 permit, and have gathered some information of the place I 
 am in. The houses are of but one and two stones, and those 
 of the principal merchants generally have a small tower 
 raised above the roof, which is flat, from whence they may 
 see the vessels off the port, and those coming in. 
 
 The city is situated in a kind of peninsula, having the 
 water on three sides : the Rio de la Plata to the S. W., the 
 Bay to the N. E., and the Atlantic to the East. The land 
 rises gradually, sloping on either side to the water. The city 
 is laid out after a regular plan, the streets running at right 
 angles, and thus forming squares upon which are erected the 
 buildings. The population is said to be about twenty thousand, 
 and rapidly increasing. A vast amount of building is going 
 on, and the price of labor of all kinds is very high. Rents 
 are also high, and living expensive. Mutton and beef arc 
 almost the only articles of food that are very cheap. Beef 
 is about one dollar the arroba, or four cents a pound, there 
 being twenty-five pounds to the arroba. 
 
 There are not any particularly fine public buildings in the 
 city. The principal Church or Cathedral, here called La Iglesia 
 Matrix, is quite an ordinary edifice, built of brick, left on the 
 outside without stucco, and unfinished. On the inside it is com 
 plete, but with very little ornament. It is situated on one side 
 of the Plaza Grande, or principal public square of the city, and 
 on the opposite is the Cabildo, or the City Hall. There is a 
 very good News Room and Commercial Hall, which has a 
 look-out and telegraph communicating with one established 
 on the Cerro or Mount on the opposite sido of the bay to the 
 It 
 
342 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 westward. By these vessels are signalized to a considerable 
 distance. This mountain, from which the city is named Mon 
 tevideo, ascends gradually, and being covered with green to 
 the very top, and its apex crowned with a fort, now used as a 
 telegraph station, has a picturesque appearance. 
 
 The face of the country is gently undulating, and well cal 
 culated to pasture the immense numbers of cattle in which 
 the riches of both this and the Argentine Republic may be 
 said almost solely to exist. The immense flocks and herds 
 that are here owned by individual men, remind one of the 
 pastoral wealth of the early patriarchs mentioned in Scrip 
 ture. Job s substance was seven thousand sheep, three thou 
 sand camels, five hundred yoke of oxen, and five hundred 
 she-asses eleven thousand in all, while, on some estancias in 
 this country, they have twenty-five thousand horned cattle 
 alone, not including, perhaps, a complement of between two 
 and three thousand sheep, and one thousand horses ! This is 
 patriarchal wealth, indeed. The business of the saladcros 
 the establishments where the cattle are killed, and the beef 
 cured and dried is said to be exceedingly lucrative. Every 
 part of this useful animal is valuable, even to their bones, 
 which are here much used as fuel to burn brick. In their 
 hides, tallow, and horns, is carried on the great export trade 
 of the country. Great quantities of the jerked beef are 
 carried to Havana, for the consumption of the slaves. 
 
 We find this little Republic, La Republica Oriental, or 
 La Banda Oriental, as it is sometimes called, in a state of 
 civil war, arising from the contention for power between the 
 former and first president Don Jose Fructuosa Rivera and 
 the present incumbent and head of the government forces, 
 Don Manuel Orirbe. A day or two since news came by 
 several chasquis, or couriers, of the total defeat in an engage 
 ment about forty leagues from here, on the river Yi, of the 
 rebel chief Rivera. The city was soon in an uproar of en 
 thusiasm, the bells set to ringing, guns fired, and music, and 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 24:3 
 
 illuminations, in the evening. The thing will not, however, be 
 finished till he is either taken prisoner or killed, one of which 
 two events, for the sake of the country, it is to be hoped, may 
 speedily take place. Its interests are very much injured, and 
 commerce unfavorably affected by the state of uncertainty that 
 now exists. 
 
 There are but very few regular troops in the city ; but a 
 National Guard of about five hundred men, who do the 
 duty of patrols and sentinels. Each one wears in his hat a 
 band of white ribbon, with the inscription, " Defensor de las 
 Leyes," " Defender of the laws." Some who wear this in 
 scription, look as though, instead of being its defenders, they 
 would be the first to violate the law. Fighting, in this country, 
 is carried on almost entirely on horseback ; that being the 
 mode of warfare to which, from their constant habit of riding, 
 the inhabitants are most accustomed. The soldiers are armed 
 with a lance, carbine, sabre, and pistols, and after discharging 
 their fire-arms, they attack each other hand to hand cuerpo 
 a cuerpo so that an engagement is often a series of personal 
 combats. 
 
 Horses are raised in immense numbers ; an excellent one can 
 be bought for fifteen or twenty dollars, and the very best for 
 twenty-five or thirty ; the expense of keeping in the city, 
 amounting, in about a month, to the original price of the 
 horse. Travelling is here chiefly performed on horseback, and 
 the rate at which the people ride, and the number of leagues 
 they perform in a day, is astonishing ; ninety or one hun 
 dred miles a day being not an unusual journey. A gallop 
 is the usual pace, and little consideration is felt for the well- 
 being of the animal, who thus faithfully carries them, for when 
 one is killed by over-exertion, a few dollars only is required to 
 supply his place. The horses, however, being first broke to 
 this rapid mode, become accustomed, and hardened to it. 
 
 The costume of the country people, or guachos as they are 
 here called, to the eye of a stranger is very novel and singular. 
 
244 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 They generally wear on horseback a kind of cloak, called 
 poncho, made with a hole at the top, fitted for the neck, 
 hanging before and behind, covering the arms, but leaving 
 them less embarrassed than the common one. These are of 
 various colors, some of blue cloth, others of a flaming scarlet 
 red, others of a strong cotton cloth, variously striped. Their 
 lower dress is generally a pair of cotton drawers, or pantaloons, 
 with a fringe, over which is fastened round the waist a piece 
 of thick red cloth, going quite round the body, and the ends 
 meeting in front ; a clumsy dress, one would think, for a 
 laboring man. As they gallop rapidly through the country, 
 their gay costume flaunting in the wind, they realise the 
 idea which imagination has formed from pictures in child 
 hood. A hat or cap is the usual covering for the head. The 
 drawers and sash, of red or other cloth, and sometimes a 
 coarse white gown or frock, is a usual costume among the 
 laboring classes, or peones in the city. 
 
 Slavery is permitted, although there is in operation a gra 
 dual scheme of emancipation. A law was sanctioned by the 
 House of Representatives, when the Oriental State had just de 
 clared itself independent, on the 7th of September 1825, de 
 claring all to be free, without exception of origin, that should 
 be born from that day forward, and prohibiting the traffic in 
 slaves from a foreign country. They are sometimes introduc 
 ed clandestinely, but the whole number in all the province 
 does not amount probably to more than five or six thousand. 
 
 This Province declared itself independent by its representa 
 tives, assembled in the town of Florida, the 25th of August 
 1825 ; and by a treaty of peace between the Argentine Re 
 public, and the empire of Brazil, signed at Rio Janeiro, 28th 
 of August, 1828, its independence was acknowledged under 
 guarantee of Great Britain. Its present constitution was sanc 
 tioned by the Constitutional Assembly, September 10th, 1829. 
 It much resembles in its general provisions that of the United 
 States, from the model of which the constitutions of most of 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 245 
 
 the South American Republics are formed. There is a Senate 
 and House of Representatives chosen by the people, and a 
 President elected for four years. The territory of the re 
 public is divided into twelve departments, each one of which 
 sends a senator to the Assembly. It contains three cities, viz : 
 Montevideo, La Colonica, and Maldonado ; seventeen towns 
 and nine villages or pueblos. 
 
 The police regulations of the city are very good ; murders 
 and robberies of rare occurrence. The " serenos" or watch 
 men patrol the streets at night, carrying a lantern, and well 
 armed with lance and pistols, beginning to cry the hour at ten 
 o clock, and mentioning the state of the weather as in old Spain. 
 They are so numerous, that it is safe passing the streets at 
 any hour of the night. Montevideo lies in Lat. 34 54 , 
 South ; and Long. 56 14 , West. The whole republic is 
 said to contain seventy-nine thousand square miles, and about 
 eighty thousand inhabitants, its population rapidly increasing 
 by foreign emigration. There are no wild Indians within the 
 province ; but many of the country people peones, or 
 guachos seem to be a kind of civilised Indians, their features 
 and complexion much like those of North America, cheek 
 bones very high, hair jet black, long, and straight. 
 
 Land is about $2,000 the square league, and some 
 Estaucias contain as many as fifty or sixty square leagues. 
 On some of these the proprietors live, and have comfortable 
 houses, on others there is no building but a few miserable 
 ranchos, or sheds, for the peones who take care of the cattle. 
 On the estancias distant from the city, they generally culti 
 vate only land enough to afford vegetables for family use, 
 as their great source of profit is the raising of cattle. The 
 dried or jerked beef looks anything but fit to eat, as one sees 
 it thrown like sheep-skins from the carts into the lighters for 
 embarkation. Indeed in its appearance at a little distance, it 
 has a resemblance to old dried pelts, being cut in slices from 
 every part of the animal, whose carcass may literally be said 
 
246 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 to be flayed to a skeleton, the bones of which, as I have said 
 before, are used to burn brick. 
 
 As to the climate its sudden changes do not agree with me, 
 although the air is very pure. The wind is almost all the 
 time blowing hard from some quarter or other of the compass, 
 which is not very favorable for complaints of the chest. 
 
 Buenos AyreSj January 18^, 1838. Since my last date I 
 have become a temporary sojourner in this city, and another 
 year has commenced its swift career. On the evening of the 
 24th of December, I embarked on board the little packet 
 schooner Eupacia, of eighty tons burthen. 
 
 About three o clock on the afternoon of the twenty-fifth, 
 we came safely to anchor in front of the city, in the inner 
 roads, and immediately after having received the visit of the 
 boarding officers, we went on shore, being transferred from 
 the boat to a cart, and from the cart discharged upon terra 
 firma much to our content after a good round jolting truly a 
 novel way of landing. This mode is really ridiculous, and it 
 is a good commentary on Spanish indolence and want of en 
 terprise. There is a bank or shoal in front of the city, hav 
 ing on it from one to three feet of water, extending out per 
 haps the sixteenth of a mile ; and this distance you have to 
 be carried in a rickety cart drawn by horses or mules, which 
 backs up to the boat, and receives you to be spattered and 
 jolted at the mercy of the cart-man, who straddles one of the 
 beasts, till much to your relief he emerges with his living 
 cargo upon the dry land. At an expense comparatively 
 small to the advantages that would result from it, a good 
 solid quay might be constructed to a depth of water suf 
 ficient for the lighters and small craft to discharge, and 
 receive the cargoes of vessels of burden lying in the roads. 
 
 About two miles from the city down the river, there is a 
 little creek or river, " Riochuelo," as it is called, which has a 
 depth of water sufficient for vessels of very light draft, and 
 where the small coasting craft receive their cargoes. There 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 
 
 is a wooden quay built a mile from its mouth, where the ves 
 sels lie, and this place is called the Boca. Some lighters are 
 loaded at this place, and others immediately from the carts 
 in front of the Custom Houso. 
 
 My quarters are pleasantly situated in a central part of the 
 city, on a long, wide street, leading into the quiet square, the 
 balcony of my room commanding a pleasant view up and 
 down. The house is kept by an American lady, who has 
 long resided in this country, and has a son in the Buenos 
 Ayrean navy. The boarders are mostly captains and super 
 cargoes of American vessels. 
 
 The first of January, New Year s Day, was a gala day 
 in Buenos Ayres. The Governor-General, Rosas, opened 
 in person the House of Representatives of the province. 
 The streets around the building were strewed with sweet- 
 smelling fennel, and covered with an awning. A corps of 
 armed citizens, called El Guardia del Honor, Cavalry, and 
 bands of music, lined the street through which the Governor 
 was to pass. As he entered the building, and passed into the 
 Hall of the Representatives, the files rung with " Viva la 
 Federacion !" " Viva el Restaurador." The bands of music 
 struck up, and a salute was fired from the fort. I saw him 
 as he passed in at the door a fine, martial-looking man, 
 splendidly dressed in military costume, a great deal of energy 
 and decision depicted in his countenance, which is a true 
 index of his mind, judging from his vigorous measures. 
 
 The opening speech or message was read by the Secretary 
 to the House, printed the next day in the daily papers a 
 long document, chiefly treating of local affairs. In the even 
 ing there was an immense ball at the fort, at which the Gov 
 ernor and his family were present, the foreign ministers, and 
 a large assemblage of the fashion and beauty of Buenos 
 Ayres. The popular cry here now is " Viva los Federales," 
 " Mueran los Unitarios." A large number of the citizens 
 
 O 
 
 wear a piece of red ribbon with this inscription in their 
 
248 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 button-holes ; and over the door of every public office, build 
 ing, or institution, this device is painted in large letters. On 
 NewYear s Day, no one without the device in their button 
 hole was permitted to enter the galleries of the House of 
 Representatives ; and I was obliged to put one on for the 
 time being, for fear of insult from the mob. 
 
 The Governor-General, Don Manuel Rosas, is the Execu 
 tive of the province. All executions are military, criminals 
 being shot by a file of soldiers. This province, Buenos 
 Ayres, is charged by all the other provinces of the Confede 
 ration with the administration of foreign affairs, and is, there 
 fore, the court of the nation, and the residence of all foreign 
 ministers. The Federation is composed of thirteen pro 
 vinces, each having its separate Governor and House of Re 
 presentatives. The United Provinces of the Rio de la Plata, 
 called more generally the Argentine Republic, comprehends 
 a surface of one million of square miles, extending from the 
 Tropic of Capricorn to 40 10 south latitude, and embrac 
 ing a longitude of from 9 to 15. It is bounded on the north 
 by Bolivia, east by the Paraguay, and by the Cordilleras 
 mountains, separating it from Chili. To the south lie the 
 deserts of Patagonia. The river Uruguay serves as a divid 
 ing line from the Oriental Republic. 
 
 The banks of the Rio de la Plata were first discovered in 
 1517, by Solis, and afterwards by Cabot in 1526. In 1535, 
 the Spanish government began to settle this side of it, form 
 ing the first colony under the direction of Don Pedro Men- 
 doza, and giving it the name of Nuestra Sefiora de los Buenos 
 Ayres, her surname being added from the good climate and 
 situation of the city. This was its first foundation. It was 
 afterwards abandoned, and again recommenced by Don Juan 
 Saray, in 1580. The goodness of the climate, and the com 
 munication with Peru and Chili, of which it was the key, so 
 much increased the population and importance, that in 1778 it 
 was erected into a Vice-Regency. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVEE, M.D. 249 
 
 Buenos Ayres, the Capital, in 1807 resisted an English ex 
 pedition of eleven thousand men, reduced the half by force of 
 arms, and compelled the other half to capitulate, promising to 
 evacuate the Rio de la Plata, and retire to England. The 
 ninth of July, Independence of the Provinces was proclaimed. 
 In 1810, the Revolution of the Provinces broke out, when the 
 authority of the Spanish Government was thrown off; and in 
 1819, a Congress was convened in the Capital, and the present 
 Constitution of the Provinces that now form the Federation, 
 was published. 
 
 Until 1828, they were called the United Provinces of the 
 Rio de la Plata ; but in that year was formed the present 
 government of the Federation, or Argentine Republic. This 
 year is called the Twenty-eighth Year of Libercy, Twenty- 
 second of Independence, and Sixth of the Argentine Re 
 public. Since the present Governor, or President of the 
 City and Province of Buenos Ayres, came into power, the 
 government has been much better regulated, and crimes 
 greatly diminished by exemplary punishment and salutary 
 enactments. He refused the office of Governor three several 
 times, when it was tendered to him ; and at last said, that if 
 they would invest him with extraordinary powers, he would 
 accept of it, if he were chosen by a majority of the people. 
 He was again chosen, and now, in effect, wields the power of 
 a Dictator, and is called the " Restaurador de las Leyas" 
 " Restorer of the Laws," which, in many respects, he may 
 truly be said to be, as before his election anarchy and mis 
 rule prevailed, and there was but little security for life and 
 property. 
 
 His policy has lately- been to encourage the priests, and 
 even the Jesuits have been publicly allowed within the last 
 eighteen months, and they now have a college of boys in the 
 city. The churches have been, and are being repaired, and 
 the friars are permitted to walk the streets in their full robes. 
 Great numbers have come from Spain since the suppression 
 11* 
 
250 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 of the Convents, and are now arriving from time to time 
 Twenty-five Friars and eight Jesuits recently arrived from 
 Cadiz. They have been well received by the government, 
 and provision made for their residence. 
 
 There are in the city fourteen Churches and two Hospitals. 
 There is also an asylum for orphan children. The Govern 
 ment has a College, where the students are fitted for either 
 of the three professions theology, medicine, or law. Com 
 mon Schools " Escuelas de Primeras Letras" are quite 
 numerous. There are also English schools supported by the 
 British and American residents in this place. There are a 
 large number of British and other foreign residents here, and 
 many have married with the natives of the country. Of 
 Americans there are less, though many more than in Monte 
 video. The whole population of the city is between seventy- 
 five and eighty thousand. The Argentine Republic includes 
 a surface of 779,000 square miles. A large territory in the 
 northern and central parts of the country, is in possession of 
 the Indians. The whole population, not including the Indians, 
 is 779,000. That of the Province of Buenos Ayres, 120,000; 
 its square miles, 95,000. According to another statement, 
 the Indians are put down at 1,000,000. 
 
 The city of Buenos Ayres is situated on the west bank 
 of the Rio de la Plata, one hundred and eighty miles from the 
 ocean. It is here about ten leagues, or thirty miles wide ; 
 and sometimes, in very clear weather, the opposite coast can 
 be seen. At its mouth it is about one hundred and fifty miles 
 from cape to cape, formed by the union of the Uruguay 
 and Parana. The Parana rises in the mountains of Brazil, 
 about two thousand miles long, joins the Uruguay a little 
 above the city of Buenos Ayres. The Uruguay rises in the 
 southern part of Brazil, its general course southwest, and 
 about twelve hundred miles long. The currents in the La 
 Plata are very strong and variable, sometimes up and some 
 times down, much according to the wind. With a strong 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 251 
 
 north wind, the vessels in the inner roads are sometimes 
 almost high and dry, the water being temporarily driven out 
 to sea. 
 
 We add to these extracts from his Journal for 
 Friends, a record found about this time in the Keli- 
 gions Diary, 011 occasion of his going up once more to 
 the courts of the Sanctuary, and singing the Lord s 
 songs in a strange land : 
 
 Buenos Ayres, Jan. 23rd, 1838. To-day I have enjoyed 
 the unspeakable privilege of again partaking in the affecting 
 service of the Lord s Supper, with a few, who, I trust, 
 truly love his name. A Missionary of the Methodist Epis 
 copal Church of the United States, who was sent out about a 
 year since, has succeeded in forming a little church among the 
 foreign population, and in fitting up a hall for Divine worship. 
 He seems a truly pious, devoted man. I attended the pre 
 paratory meeting on Friday morning, at eleven o clock, and 
 have enjoyed a profitable season to-day, in again renewing my 
 vows at the Table of the Lord. Oh, blessed Jesus, how in 
 finite is thy love ! how amazing thy condescension in dying 
 for lost and guilty man ! 
 
 What an unworthy disciple I have been the last year ! 
 How have I grieved the dear Saviour, by my repeated back- 
 slidings and transgressions ! By thy grace, blessed Jesus, I 
 will do so no more. But only by thy grace ; for my own 
 strength, alas ! how often have I found it to be but perfect 
 weakness. I would lie low at the foot of thy Cross, with 
 deep penitence and contrition, confessing my sins and entreat 
 ing thy pardon, and thy strength against future temptation. 
 How sweet to lie there ! How blessed a spot ! There may 
 I ever stay. Blessed Saviour, ever keep me there, for there 
 alone is safety. 
 
252 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 " My faith would lay her hand, 
 
 On that dear head of thine 
 
 ; While like a penitent I stand, 
 
 And there confess my sin. ;? 
 
 Oh, how sweet how unutterable is thy love ! May my 
 whole soul be melted down and subdued by its influence, 
 and moulded entirely into thine own image. May this new 
 year be to me a year of spiritual blessing a year of growth 
 in grace. Oh, be with me in all my journeyings by sea and 
 by land. Keep and bless me in all my ways. To thee 
 would I rejoice renewedly and unreservedly to consecrate all 
 that I have and am, and to commit to thee the disposal of 
 all events. Oh, prepare me for them all, and sanctify them 
 to my best good sickness or health, joy or sorrow, life or 
 death. 
 
 " In every joy that crowns my days, 
 
 In every pain I bear, 
 My heart shall find delight in praise, 
 
 Or seek relief in prayer. 
 When gladness wings my favorM hour, 
 
 Thy love my thoughts shall fill ; 
 Resigned when storms of sorrow lower, 
 
 My soul shall meet thy will. 
 My lifted eye without a tear, 
 
 The gathering storm shall see ; 
 My steadfast heart shall know no fear 
 
 That heart will rest on thee." 
 
OF NATHANIEL GHEEVER. M.D. 253 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE CAUSE, HISTORY, AND CIJKE OF DESPONDENCY SUB 
 SEQUENT RETURN TO AMERICA, AND ENTRANCE UPOft 
 THE STUDY OF MEDICINE. 
 
 To lay the soul that loves him low, 
 
 Becomes the Only- wise : 
 To hide beneath a vail of woe, 
 
 The children of the skies. * 
 
 Ah, vainly anxious ! leave the Lord 
 
 To rule thee and dispose ; 
 Sweet is the mandate of his word, 
 
 And gracious all he does. 
 Down then with self-exalting thoughts ; 
 
 Thy faith and hope employ 
 To welcome all that he allots, 
 
 And suffer shame with joy. 
 
 MADAME GUYON. 
 
 WE enter now upon a part of these memorials full 
 of melancholy interest to ourselves, and by no means 
 destitute of instruction to others. If its perusal shall 
 be the means of impressing a single invalid, or vale 
 tudinarian traveller in quest of health, with the impor 
 tance of being always accompanied by a trusty friend, 
 it will not be written in vain. 
 
254 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 "We say, with earnestness, to any one whose health 
 is much impaired, especially if young, DO NOT GO 
 ABROAD ALONE. If you do, there is reason to fear that 
 travelling will do you more harm than good. A 
 thousand times you will want some one with a com 
 mon interest, in whom you can confide to advise 
 with you to counsel you to decide for you, when you 
 cannot well decide for yourself ; and half the profit of 
 journeying will be lost by the perplexity you will 
 often be in, of determining what to do and where to 
 go, in the change of circumstances, health, hopes, and 
 prospects, which will often be experienced in the life 
 of a traveller. 
 
 There is much truth in a saying to be found in 
 Schiller s Piccolomini, which we have hitherto seen 
 remarkably exemplified in the life we have been trac 
 ing : 
 
 The game of life 
 
 Looks cheerful, when one carries in one s heart 
 The unalienable treasure. Tis a game, 
 Which, having once reviewed, I turn more joyous 
 Back to my deeper and appropriate bliss. 
 
 Beyond all doubt, the unalienable treasure and guar 
 antee of cheerfulness, being reconciliation to God, was 
 in that heart (now at rest in heaven), whose pulsations 
 are still beating in the leaves of this book. In his 
 sky the star of hope was always in the ascendant. 
 The aspect which life had to him, notwithstanding all 
 his suffering, was green and cheerful. He was wont 
 to view things on their sunny side ; or, if a cloud in 
 terposed, he had learned to look beyond it. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 255 
 
 We have seen, at the close of the last chapter, what 
 those who knew him had often occasion to observe, 
 how serenely he could behold the gathering storm. 
 But a storm of trial, temptation, perplexity, doubt, 
 and despondency, was now preparing, which he little 
 dreamed of, and which alone, as he was in a strange 
 land, without one congenial earthly friend or helper, 
 had well-nigh overwhelmed him. It all originated in 
 a painful distress of mind (which the presence of a 
 single skilful friend might have prevented), induced 
 by the apprehension that he had acted wrong and un 
 wisely in abandoning a Spanish vessel wherein he had 
 taken passage for Cadiz, and so forfeiting the passage- 
 money previously paid. His state of mind up to that 
 step, and certain items of his South American history, 
 not heretofore given, are contained in the following 
 letters to his friends : 
 
 Buenos Ayres, Feb. Qth, 1838. 
 
 DEARLY BELOVED SISTER. When I last wrote, on the 23d 
 of January, I was under the influence of an asthmatic attack ; 
 I have now again recovered, and am in comfortable health, 
 vastly better than when I first arrived here. I have enjoyed 
 my short residence in this city much more than I did that at 
 Montevideo ; I have found more society, and have been in 
 better health. Moreover, I have enjoyed, on the return of 
 every Sabbath, the privileges of the sanctuary ; and though in 
 a foreign land, among strange faces, they have been, I assure 
 you, very delightful. There is no language I hear like the 
 language of Canaan, and that not in stately Castiliau, but in 
 our own dear native English. On the first Sabbath of the year, 
 with a few who love the Lord Jesus, I partook of the Lord s 
 Supper at the chapel of the Rev. Mr. Dempster, the American 
 
256 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Methodist Missionary at this city. I thought much of you all, 
 and trust it was a precious season to your souls ; to myself I 
 think I may truly say it was a profitable one. Jesus seemed 
 to be present, and u his banner over me to be love ;" his cross 
 and atonement appeared unspeakably precious, and upon it 
 only, I felt to hang all my hopes, and at its foot to lie 
 with a deep sense of my own utter unworthiness and ill-desert. 
 It is indeed a precious, blessed spot. Oh, that we could ever 
 humbly keep there, and always feel the love of Jesus secretly 
 constraining us. To Him would I rejoice renewedly to con 
 secrate myself, and to commit to His disposal the direction of 
 all my future steps. 
 
 How unspeakable is our cause for gratitude that we all as a 
 family have such a Saviour to go to, that though absent in 
 body, and wandering upon the earth, we may often meet 
 in spirit, at the throne of His grace. Prayer is indeed an un 
 utterable privilege, and particularly does one feel it so when 
 in a foreign land, amid strangers, and far, far separated from 
 friends most dear. I feel peace in committing you all to the 
 care of our gracious, covenant-keeping God, and I earnestly 
 trust that you are constantly commending me to His grace. 
 Oh, how I do long, long to hear from you ; my heart almost 
 weeps with the intensity of its desires. But I must quiet them, 
 for I shall not probably get any intelligence from either dear 
 George or yourselves till I arrive at Malaga. 
 
 Mr. Tressera s attention and kindness I have found exceed 
 ingly valuable, of the house of Zumaran and Tressera, to whom 
 I had letters of introduction from the Messrs Huelin, of 
 Malaga. 
 
 My knowledge of the Spanish language is a source of much 
 pleasure, and the practice I have had here in speaking, has 
 been very useful in increasing my fluency. 
 
 I now expect to embark, in the course of six or eight days, 
 for Cadiz, in the Sardinian brig " Trafalgar." I was yester 
 day off on board to see her. She is a good strong vessel, and 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEE, M.D. 257 
 
 a very fast sailer, making the passage between here and Cadiz 
 generally in forty or forty-five days. The accommodations 
 are tolerable. I had expected to go in the " Eola," a fine 
 ship with excellent accommodations, from Montevideo ; but 
 hides being scarce, she will not probably go under six or eight 
 weeks, and this is the only vessel from either place, that will 
 probably go for many weeks. There will be three other 
 passengers beside myself. 
 
 I am collecting materials in my journal, for a series of letters 
 for the Observer, from Montevideo and Buenos Ayres, and if 
 the Lord permit, I shall prepare them upon the voyage. But 
 as I have said before, this will depend upon the state of my 
 health. " If the Lord permit" includes all, and it is a phrase 
 we are never safe in omitting. 
 
 Thursday, Feb. 8th, 1837. 
 
 DEAR AND HONORED MOTHER. Since I commenced the 
 accompanying sheet to my dear sister, a change has taken 
 place in my plans, though they were not previously altogether 
 fixed, of which in an additional sheet, by the same opportunity, 
 I hasten now to give you the details. May your own judgment 
 approve my decision. For my own part, I think I can truly say 
 that I have not made it without sincere, fervent prayer for 
 Divine direction. Since writing to E. I have ascertained from 
 the captain of the " Trafalgar" that all the berths, four in 
 number, in the principal cabin of his vessel, are absolutely en 
 gaged to the other passengers, and the only place of accommo 
 dation that remains is a small state-room, but for which he asks 
 the enormous price of $200 if I occupy it alone. I have tried 
 to make an arrangement with some other passengers to occupy 
 part of it with me, but have not been able ; and, moreover, it 
 would not be very agreeable. As there is a family that wish 
 to go, and in case I do not take it, would occupy it and pay 
 $300 or more, the captain would not take any less than 
 $200 to carry me. This morning I had to give my final 
 
258 MEMOKIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 answer to the captain, whether to go or not, in order that he 
 might engage with the other passengers ; and it has been, con 
 sidering all circumstances, best to wait for the " Eola" which 
 goes about the first of April. Many things have influenced 
 me to this decision ; one is the great improvement in my 
 health, since I have been here, and which may be increased 
 by a few weeks longer residence ; another, the advice of several 
 persons of judgement. The weather continues warm and 
 pleasant here till the middle of April. 
 
 My mind has been greatly perplexed in deciding, dear 
 Mother, but I trust I may have determined for the best. O, 
 may the Lord be with me, and direct and guide me in all my 
 ways. Commit me, dear Mother, to Him, and may we all en 
 joy the blessed light of his countenance. Do not be too anxious 
 about me ; I shall write again in a few days. 
 
 Buenos Ayres, Saturday afternoon, Feb. l(Wz, 1S38. 
 DEAR AND HONORED MOTHER. On the 8th instant, 
 I sent a long letter to dear E. with an additional sheet 
 to yourself, by the barque " Chalcedony" for Boston, the 
 latter communicating to you the decision I had then come 
 to, of remaining here some weeks longer. I was most sadly, 
 sadly perplexed on the day I wrote to you, as to what was the 
 best course to pursue, but concluded in the morning, before 
 closing my letter, that it would be better on many accounts to 
 wait for the " Eola." This intention I am now exceedingly 
 sorry for having announced to you, as I fear it may give you 
 anxiety, and you may think me vacillating and deficient in 
 judgment, when I tell you that I have returned to my original 
 determination, and expect to embark on Tuesday the 14th, in 
 the " Trafalgar" for Cadiz. I spent truly a miserable day of 
 suspense, on Thursday ; and in the evening, home-sick and 
 desponding, I went up to the house of the consignee of the 
 vessel to see if the state-room was actually engaged, though 
 with little hope to the contrary. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEB, M.D. 259 
 
 To my joy I found it was still at my disposal, and that I 
 had till ten o clock the next day, to decide whether I 
 would take it. I have accordingly decided that, considering 
 all things, I had best improve this opportunity, as it is so un 
 certain when another vessel goes. The price of passage is 
 large, and I feel a great reluctance to paying it, but the un 
 certainty in which I should remain, and the prolonged period 
 of deprivation from news, either of yourselves or dear George, 
 it having been all along my original determination to embark 
 about this time, I have concluded on the whole that it was best 
 even to pay $200, rather than remain so many weeks longer in 
 a strange place, where I have no particular friend, or uncle, as 
 in Malaga. Still I have hardly known what to do, and it has 
 been a difficult case to decide. The evident improvement in 
 my health, as I mentioned before, seemed to favor my remain 
 ing ; but my heart is really sick, with longing for news 
 from those I love. I think since I left home, I have not felt 
 so home-sick as during the two or three last days, since I found 
 my only course was to go in this vessel, and pay $200, or 
 wait six or eight weeks longer for another. How I have 
 longed for some dear friend or brother with whom to advise ! 
 My earnest desire to see and hear from dear Greorge has also 
 influenced me in reversing my decision ; and although it is 
 so uncertain when I may have the sweet pleasure of the 
 former, yet if I am on the same continent with him it will be 
 a comfort. 
 
 All things considered, I think it is a Providential circum 
 stance that the state-room was not engaged ; Providential I say, 
 for it is a relief to think that all our movements, however 
 trivial they may seem, are directed by a superior power, 
 rather than the mere casualties of chance ; the most im 
 portant thing is not to misinterpret the Lord s providence 
 by our own errors in judgment. If I had come here with 
 any idea of stopping, in case the climate should agree with 
 me, it then might have been best to remain, and wait a 
 
260 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 favorable opportunity to go to Mendoza, and give the climate 
 a fair trial. The air is said to be impregnated with saltpetre, 
 and for this reason I can imagine it favorable to the asthma, 
 for I have used the remedy of paper soaked in saltpetre, 
 perhaps with greater effect than ever, since I have been in 
 this city, apparently, through its instrumentality, avoiding 
 several attacks. 
 
 Tuesday , Feb. 13th. Yesterday I had the unexpected de 
 light of receiving a letter from dear George, dated Havre, 
 Oct. 28th and 29th. If I had received it last week I should 
 not have thought of leaving so soon, as I now see that his 
 plans are very uncertain, and it is also uncertain whether I 
 meet him in Malaga at all. But I have been harassed and 
 perplexed beyond measure. Perhaps I ought not to have 
 thought of changing my decision to remain ; I fear it was 
 hasty, but 0, may the Lord in his infinite mercy make 
 it all work out my best good. The " Hamet" sails this after 
 noon. If 1 can, I will drop you a line after I get on board, by 
 the pilot, to be sent by the first opportunity. I fear you will 
 think me very fluctuating and, perhaps, injudicious, but you 
 will, in some measure, appreciate my circumstances. 
 
 The captain is a Genoese, but speaks Spanish perfectly, and 
 he assures me, as well as the consignee, that every thing in his 
 power shall be done to make me comfortable. To day I em 
 bark my baggage, and to-morrow we expect to sail. The 
 thing is now decided beyond repeal, and I will try to feel 
 that it is for the best. My heart is burdened with the fear 
 that I have acted foolishly, but I will try to cast all my care 
 upon the Lord, knowing that he can and will sustain me. May 
 you all at home do the same in regard to me. I, perhaps, 
 yielded too quickly to moments of despondency and home 
 sickness, but the unhappiness I felt after my first decision was 
 almost more than I could endure. 
 
 His passage-money was accordingly paid, and em 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 261 
 
 barkation effected on board the Trafalgar, but in a 
 state of mental perplexity and indecision, as may be 
 gathered from what has gone before, and as we after 
 ward learned from his own lips, little short of w^hat 
 often precedes insanity. In this foreign brig, its 
 strange captain and passengers, and all its fixtures for 
 a long voyage, he found nothing at that time home 
 like or soothing, or capable of ministering to a mind 
 diseased as his, for the time being, had become. 
 
 Almost all the ensuing night he paced the deck, 
 nursing and brooding over the conviction that he had 
 done wrong to embark, and tempted, it would seem, 
 by the very Prince of Evil, w T hom God allowed to 
 deal with him for the time, to conclude, if he went in 
 that brig, it would be the last of him. The next 
 morning, harassed beyond expression, and in a state 
 of excitement which may be imagined after the dis 
 tress of a sleepless night, and with no friend to com 
 pose or advise him, when the pilot came to leave, he 
 proposed leaving with him, and returning to Buenos 
 Ayres, yet hoping secretly, he said, that he would 
 absolutely refuse, and thus shut him up to the neces- 
 sity of prosecuting the voyage. But no strenuous op 
 position being made to this by the captain, who was 
 sure of his fare, nor by the other passengers, who 
 would have his room, he was wrongly allowed to 
 go. 
 
 But, no sooner was he cut loose irrecoverably 
 from the Trafalgar, and alone with the pilots many 
 miles from land, on his way back to a place which 
 he had honorably left, than his sensitive mind fell 
 
262 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 into a morbid state of self-upbraiding regret, and 
 painful conviction that his last error was worse than 
 the first, and that nothing now remained for him 
 but despair. In this condition, upon his return to the 
 city, he could neither write to his friends, nor in his 
 Journal, and, what was worse, he seemed to himself 
 forsaken of his Saviour, and he could neither pray nor 
 read the Word with a ray of comfort, nor could he 
 appropriate its promises to his own case. 
 
 This anguish of mind, together with the exposure 
 by night in the pilot-boat, intermission of sleep, and 
 all he had passed through, re-acted most injuriously 
 upon his bodily health, so as to bring on a very severe 
 attack of his malady, by which he was entirely pros 
 trated for several w^eeks, and confined to his lodgings. 
 A black cloud of despondency now settled upon him 
 heavy and low, through which it was many months 
 before he could see the sun. 
 
 " No voice Divine the storm allayed 
 No light propitious shone." 
 
 But God mercifully kept him from extremities : angels 
 and ministers of grace, all unknown to himself, were 
 round aBout him, through whose help he held fast his 
 integrity, and would not let it go. Prayer was made 
 for him without ceasing, by a praying circle at home, 
 whose anxieties were intense, but their faith strong in 
 behalf of the wanderer as a child of God. 
 
 After waiting two months in vain at Buenos Ay res 
 for a vessel to Old Spain, he proceeded to Montevideo, 
 with the hope of finding an opportunity thence. But 
 there offered none until the fourteenth of June, 1838, 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 263 
 
 in the Spanish brig Henrique, bound for Malaga. In. 
 this he took passage, the captain being a Genoese, 
 who seems to have treated him with great kindness. 
 After a tedious voyage of eighty-four days, beneficial, 
 however, to his health, the snowy tops of the Sierra 
 Nevada, and the familiar vine-clad mountains of 
 Malaga, gladdened his sight. He was welcomed again, 
 almost as alive from the dead, by the Consul, his 
 Uncle, then in feeble health. Nor was it long that he 
 survived the return of his nephew, departing this life 
 at Barcelona, w r hither he had gone to recruit, on the 
 twelfth of November, and being interred at Malaga, 
 in the English Cemetery, on the thirtieth, w r ith distin 
 guished honor, lamented especially by the poor, and 
 his memory cherished by a large circle of American, 
 English, and Spanish friends. 
 
 In April of the following spring, through the good 
 Providence of God, his eldest brother reached Malaga 
 from the East, and there the brothers embraced after 
 their long and various travel, and chequered experi 
 ence, by sea and by land. The happy effect of this 
 Providential meeting upon the younger, is thus alluded 
 to in a letter to his Mother, of date, Malaga, April 
 5th, 1839 : 
 
 Dear George has already written you, announcing his safe 
 arrival here, and our delightful meeting after two years pain 
 ful separation. How great is our cause for gratitude in being 
 permitted to meet each other in circumstances of so much 
 health and happiness ! George is overjoyed and astonished to 
 find me so greatly improved in health and general appearance ; 
 and I am equally delighted to find him perfectly well and * travel- 
 
264: MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 stained," with a beard of so truly an Oriental length as 
 would astonish the natives at home. I think, could he 
 drop down among you just as he is, you would, for a moment, 
 be almost puzzled to recognize him. He is in excellent 
 spirits ; and you have reason to look forward to the return 
 of your beloved sons with pleasing anticipations, and hopes 
 that, I trust, will be fully realized, after so many months of 
 distressing anxiety and disappointment on our account. 
 
 Dear George s arrival has greatly cheered me, and I am 
 looking forward to niy return with him with joyful antici 
 pations. How delightful will it be to your maternal heart, 
 again to meet your long absent sons, and to dear E. and H., 
 their beloved brothers. My health is vastly improved. I 
 have grown several inches in stature, and appear much 
 stronger and stouter than before ; still I have occasional at 
 tacks of asthma, though I have no doubt that, by the bless 
 ing of God, I may get entirely over it. The weather here is 
 indescribably delightful. We surely have reason to bless the 
 Lord for his abundant goodness, and to trust him in regard 
 to the future. Oh, that we truly felt his loving-kind 
 ness. 
 
 I often feel distressed when I think of all you have suffered 
 on my account, but hope you may be enabled to forget it 
 when you are again permitted to see me. Unutterable love 
 to dear E. and H. Kind remembrances to all our Aunts and 
 Cousins. May our letters have a quick passage, and soon 
 cheer your hearts by their grateful news. 
 
 Ever your most dutiful and affectionate son, 
 
 NATHANIEL. 
 
 Their movements, after this, up to their return to 
 America, and quiet domestication in the home of 
 their childhood, are thus noted in one of the earliest 
 entries in the Journal upon its resumption at Hallo- 
 well : 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEB, M.D. 265 
 
 July First, Monday, 1839. Again permitted yesterday to 
 enter into the courts of the Lord s house, and to hear the 
 voice of them that publish glad tidings of good, from the 
 sacred pulpit where the Gospel s silver trumpet first reached 
 my ears. Thanks be to God that it has kept sounding on 
 while I have been far away, and that I have come back again 
 to hear it from my long wanderings. Oh, the goodness and 
 forbearance of God while I have been away ! In the after 
 noon I accompanied my dear brother George (with whom I 
 have been in various circumstances since the first of 
 April) to Augusta, where I heard, him preach. We were 
 permitted to meet at Malaga the first of April. On the 
 twentieth we embarked for Philadelphia, in the brig Echo, 
 where we arrived on the twenty-fourth of May, after a 
 pleasant voyage of thirty-four days. We tarried till the 
 fourth of June in that pleasant city, and then left for 
 New York, where we remained till the nineteenth, arriving 
 on the twenty-second at our beloved home. How good and 
 kind has the Lord been in all his dealings to us as a family ; 
 but, oh, how utterly unworthy how wickedly perverse and 
 wandering does my course appear the last year. But may I 
 not now return, and find him whom my soul loveth. 
 
 " Cheer up, my soul, there is a mercy^seat 
 
 Sprinkled with blood, where Jesus answers prayer ; 
 There humbly cast thyself beneath his feet, 
 
 For never needy sinner perished there- 
 Be thou my refuge, Lord my hiding-place ; 
 
 I know no force can tear me from thy side ; 
 Unmoved I then may all accusers face, 
 
 And answer every charge with Jesus died/ J; 
 
 July Fourth, Thursday Afternoon. Through the Lord s 
 mercy I am spared to behold the return of a.n other anniver 
 sary of our National Independence. Last year I was tossing 
 on the ocean in a Spanish brig, between Montevideo and 
 
266 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 3Ialaga. Two years ago I was comfortably situated at 
 Malaga, under the hospitable roof of my noble Uncle, 
 now numbered with the dead. Four years ago yesterday, 
 I embarked with dear Henry at New York, for Gibraltar 
 and Malaga. Since then I have crossed the ocean six times, 
 and passed through innumerable dangers, seen and unseen, 
 but through the kind Providence of God, have been pre 
 served from any serious accident. To-day I am again under 
 my native roof, and in vastly better health than three years 
 since. 
 
 The day has been celebrated here in a truly delightful man 
 ner. All the children of the different Sabbath Schools were 
 united at the Church of the South Parish, to see a painting 
 there exhibited, called " The Opening of the Fifth Seal," 
 and hear -an explanation of its different parts. They then 
 were formed into a procession, and walked to the grounds of 
 R. K. Page, Esq., where a collation of cake, fruit, etc., was 
 provided for the children upon long tables spread under the 
 trees. Before they partook of the collation, a short address 
 was made to them by my beloved brother George, contrasting 
 their delightful privileges with the sad, unhappy state of the 
 poor children he had seen in Egypt, Turkey, and other coun 
 tries not blessed with the benign influences of Sabbath 
 Schools. Singing and prayer were -mingled in the exercises, 
 and the children seemed highly delighted. May the time be 
 hastened when all the children of the earth shall be gathered 
 into Sabbath Schools, and all become the lambs of Christ s 
 flock. 
 
 Hallow ell ^ July 18th, 1839. Through the Lord s great 
 goodness our family is now united at home ; not one of its be 
 loved inmates being absent. Wanderers as we have been, this 
 has not occurred before for five years. How various have 
 been our travels and experiences since we all thus met at 
 our beloved home ; and how great the loving kindness of our 
 Covenant Grod toward us ! May we all duly appreciate it. I 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 267 
 
 must feel more the preciousness of time ; once past it never 
 returns ; the moment that is lost is lost for ever. 
 
 It now devolved upon him to choose a profession for 
 life, and for obvious reasons he was not long in decid 
 ing upon that of medicine, which held out to him 
 more inducements than any other line of employment 
 which he could pursue. His entrance upon profes 
 sional study is thus playfully made known to his 
 brother George, in a letter of date, November 13th, 
 1839. 
 
 Prepare for the big announcement I AM NOW A DISCIPLE 
 OF ESCULAPIUS De facto, recte atque ordine. I have com 
 menced the study of a profession. Friday, Nov. 8th, was "the 
 great, the eventful day," when this new era in my life began. 
 On the afternoon of that day, I spent an hour in pleasant 
 conversation with Dr. Hubbard at his office, and after much 
 preliminary instruction and advice on his part, I requested 
 him to consider me from that time a student under his care ; 
 to which he consented, and gave me the first book to study in 
 my new profession of medicine, u An Introduction to the 
 Study of Human Anatomy," by James Paxton. I took hold 
 that very evening, have read some every day since, and am 
 becoming much interested in this important science. 
 
 I have now the satisfaction in pursuing my studies, of feel 
 ing that they have some certain end in view, an honorable pro 
 fession ; a satisfaction which I have not before had during 
 the eleven years of my ill-health, for in the desultory studios 
 at various times undertaken before, I have ever felt utterly 
 uncertain of their final issue. I began on the fourth instant, 
 the " Conversations in Chemistry," by Joyce, to recite to E., 
 which will be pleasant to us both ; and we mean to con 
 tinue it. 1 also began my Latin grammar, and am reading 
 attentively every word of it. It revives my knowledge of 
 
268 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 the Latin tongue, and it is exceedingly pleasant to trace 
 out in it the etymology of words in our own language, 
 and to observe also the innumerable similarities to and deriva 
 tions from it, which are contained in the Spanish. I intend to 
 begin " Si Dios Quiere," a Mental Arithmetic, and to go 
 through with it, reciting to E. I long daily for a bettor know 
 ledge of Mathematics, and feel myself sadly deficient in re 
 gard to them. But to all my intentions about my studies, I 
 must add a Latin " Deo Volente," or the Spanish Si Dios 
 Quiere, or in our own language your favorite phrase, " If the 
 Lord permit." The execution of them all will depend upon 
 my health, which, by the blessing of God, has been better 
 since you left us, than it has since our arrival in this country. 
 The month of October has been with us uninterruptedly fine, 
 and this has had a delightful effect on my health. 
 
 The private Journal, henceforth, supplies occasional 
 notices of progress in study, growth in grace, and 
 other items of personal history. His medical Precep 
 tor and friend was Dr. John Hubbard of Hallowell, 
 then, by general consent, foremost in his profession, and 
 now the Honorable Governor of Maine. Under his 
 tuition and hints, and in the observance of his practice, 
 his new studies were pursued at home with great zest 
 and profit. 
 
 Ilallowdl, March 29^, 1840. My twenty-fourth birth 
 day. Through the unspeakable mercy of God, I am 
 allowed to commence another year, in much better health, 
 and happier circumstances than I was the last, which dawned 
 upon me alone and unhappy, upon a foreign shore, far from 
 the dear relations and friends, whose sweet society I am now 
 permitted to enjoy ; in a Catholic country too, far removed 
 from the beneficial influences of Christian example, Sabbaths 
 and sanctuary privileges, which I am now permitted to share 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVER, H.D. 269 
 
 in dear Protostcant America. Truly the Lord s goodness is 
 unspeakable ; 0, that I had a heart rightly to appreciate it, 
 and may my future life show -that I feel the obligations to 
 love and gratitude, under which I lie to Him. 
 
 Instead of being as I have been for many years past, 
 without chart or compass, in regard to my reading and 
 studies, that is with no profession or pursuit in life, to which I 
 could look forward as their ultimate end and object, I have 
 now a definite one, the honorable science and art of healing the 
 physical infirmities of my follow creatures. May I, by dili 
 gence and energy in my studies, and the superadded blessing 
 of God, who alone can succeed our best efforts, become eminent 
 in the profession, and the instrument in relieving much human 
 suffering. May the immortal spirit not be forgotten by me in 
 administering to the body, but may I be enabled to direct 
 many to the great Physician of souls, for forgiveness and 
 spiritual healing, 
 
 New York City, November 22nd, 1840. Here I enter 
 another stage in my new enterprise, attending a course of medical 
 lectures at the College of Physicians and Surgeons, in this 
 City. I attend three lectures every day except Saturday, and 
 that day two. Attendance upon these, together with taking a 
 synopsis of them, occupies me fully. I find it good to be 
 busy, and hope this winter will be a profitable one, both to 
 mind and heart. I attended divine service this morning at 
 the Brick Church, Dr. Spring s. The Lord s Supper was 
 celebrated, and I partook in that most significant service, I 
 hope with some profit to my soul. 0, that I might ever bear 
 about with me a deep sense of Jesus dying love, and hatred 
 of that evil and bitter thing, sin, which was the cause of his 
 sufferings and death. 
 
 New York, March 29th, 1841. Monday Evening. My 
 twenty-fifth birth-day. This day completes one quarter of a 
 century of my earthly existence. One quarter of a century ! 
 Nearly one-third of the period assigned by David, as ttie term 
 
270 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 of man s career on earth, should he " by reason of strength," 
 live to fulfil it. The last year has been crowded with mercies 
 from the hand of God ; but, on my part alas ! with too many 
 wanderings and backslidings from him. But I do bless God 
 that I am permitted to begin this, my 26th year, with so many 
 tokens of love and mercy from his kind hand. I praise Him 
 that my health has so greatly improved, particularly since my 
 residence in this city. 
 
 Above all I bless His name, that at this time He makes me 
 a partaker in the blessed outpouring of the Holy Spirit, which 
 the Allen Street congregation, under my dear brother s pas 
 toral charge, is now experiencing. I have enjoyed this day. 
 I have made it a day of fasting and special prayer, and humi 
 liation before God. 1 have endeavored to look back upon the 
 sins of my unconverted life, and the sins of after years, and in 
 view of all, anew have I applied to Christ for pardon and 
 cleansing. precious Saviour, wash away my sins by faith in 
 thine atoning blood ; cleanse me in that blessed fountain from 
 all unrighteousness, and shed abroad in my heart a delightful 
 sense of forgiveness ; and may " I go my way, and sin no 
 more lest a worse thing befall me," lest I grieve thy Holy 
 Spirit beyond the limit of forbearance, and His influences be 
 forever withdrawn from my soul. Lord help me, by thine 
 almighty grace, to keep the following resolutions, for without 
 thy grace to aid me in the fulfilment of them, they will be 
 worse than in vain. 
 
 First I do resolve to live generally more in accordance with 
 those high professions, and covenant obligations, that I have 
 made before men, and entered into with God. Second I 
 resolve to be more careful and systematic in the improve 
 ment of my time. I will strive constantly to feel its exceeding 
 preciousness, not to fritter it away on unimportant trifles as I 
 am too prone to do, but endeavor constantly to improve it 
 with a view to my final account, and my future usefulness in 
 the world. Third I resolve to get up earlier, and to this 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 271 
 
 end go to bed earlier than I generally do. I will allow my 
 self from seven to eight hours to be in bed, and no more, ex 
 cept when I am sick. 
 
 It is easy to make resolutions, but it requires energy and 
 determination to fulfil them. Let me endeavor also to culti 
 vate decision of character ; when duty is clear, let me be de 
 cided in its performance, and decided in all cases when that 
 quality of mind ought to be brought into play. I am too 
 procrastinating. I will, by the help of God, strive with energy 
 and decision to overcome this wretched, time-stealing habit. 
 I will strive to be punctual in the fulfilment of all my engage 
 ments and duties, and break off with decision from any thing 
 that may interfere with being so, although it may be in itself, 
 at a proper time, a laudable and suitable employment. 
 
 The Lord grant me all needed energy and grace to keep 
 these resolutions ; and may he enable me by that grace to live 
 more to his glory this year, than during any year that has yet 
 preceded it. 
 
 The following extracts from a letter of nearly the 
 same date to his Sister, dwell more particularly upon 
 the work of grace then in progress, which is alluded 
 to above : 
 
 I have been anxious to secure the fervent prayers of you all 
 for a continuance of the blessed out-pouring of the Holy 
 Spirit, whose silent but mighty influences have been evidently 
 operating on the immense congregations, that have assembled 
 from evening to evening in dear George s church, for the last 
 week or more, to hear the eloquent, soul- moving appeals of 
 Rev. Mr. Kirk. It is, I think, about a week since those de 
 siring it were invited after the sermon in the evening, to 
 retire to the lecture-room under the church, to converse upon 
 their immortal interests. The first evening there were 
 twenty-five or thirty : there are now upwards of one hundred. 
 
272 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Christians, at the same time, are invited to remain in the 
 church above, and spend an half hour in prayer for the in 
 quirers ; and they are truly precious prayer-meetings 
 the most so, I think, that I ever attended. The prayers 
 are short, and generally to the point, and they follow each 
 other in fervent succession, now and then- interspersed with a 
 verse of some sweet hymn, as " Mercy, oh, thou Son of 
 David." Christians seem to feel their responsibilities, 
 and to have their graces very much quickened. Christians 
 and unconverted persons come from far and wide to hear Mr. 
 Kirk, and very many of the inquirers are from other congre 
 gations, so that we may hope the blessed influences of the 
 Spirit may be carried into other churches ; and, oh that every 
 part of this great city might become one Pentecostal scene, and 
 that thousands of its depraved and degraded, as well as of its 
 moral and refined inhabitants, might be brought to the feet 
 of Jesus, and transformed and elevated by the power of his 
 love. 
 
 G-eorge has referred to my great improvement in health, 
 but I feel that I too should speak of it with gratitude, and 
 still more particularly. Would that I might keep as well as 
 I am now, and grow better in the same proportion that I have 
 done for the last few weeks, until my arrival at home. I 
 should then be able to show you in propria persona, the great 
 improvement that would have taken place in my physical 
 frame. Perhaps, by the continued blessing of God, I may be 
 able to present in my outward man this improvement, but 
 painful past experience teaches me to be wary of indulging 
 too freely in sanguine expectations. Be this as it may, it is 
 surely a great mercy to be saved for two months from an 
 attack of my distressing malady. I feel it to be also a 
 blessing to my own soul that I am permitted to be a sharer in 
 this precious revival. The Lord grant I may now receive 
 an impulse, that I shall feel the blessedness of, through all my 
 Christian life. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 273 
 
 Hallowell, Sabbath Afternoon, Sept. 5th, 1841. Again at 
 my quiet, beloved home, surrounded with mercies, though in 
 feeble health. I left New York in company with my beloved 
 Sister, on the 27th of May, and having made several pleasant 
 visits with kind friends on the way, we at length arrived at 
 home on the 16th of June, where I have been ever since, 
 most of the time, indeed all the time suffering more or less 
 from my distressing malady. It is more plainly evident than 
 ever, that the climate of this region does not agree with 
 me, and perhaps this is the last summer I shall ever spend 
 here. I was attacked with asthma the day after my return, 
 and have not been free from it since, though not violently 
 sick the whole time, but generally feeble 
 
 I enjoyed the pleasure and profit of dear brother Henry s 
 society for nearly a month after my return ; and we 
 drew up, and entered into, some good resolutions together, 
 which, I hope, will be for our everlasting benefit. I think I 
 have felt an increase of spiritual strength since forming these 
 resolutions ; and may the Lord grant me grace to keep them 
 faithfully. To-day has been communion Sabbath ; but on 
 account of the weather, I have not been out. Have spent 
 the day in reading and prayer. In a little more than three 
 weeks from this time, I expect to leave for New York, to at 
 tend another season of medical lectures in that city, and be 
 with my dear brother Greorge. 
 
 New York, January 23rd, 1842. Another year has com 
 menced its rapid course, and finds me in much the same cir 
 cumstances as the last, and with my health vastly improved 
 since I left Hallowell on the 29th of September. J arn 
 attending a complete course of lectures those of seven pro 
 fessors so that my time is fully occupied. 
 
 This volume of my Journal, which now closes, was com 
 menced April 3rd, 1836, at New Orleans. How various 
 have been the vicissitudes and trials through which I have 
 passed since that time ! How many dangers preserved from ! 
 
274: MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 how much suffering supported under ! But in all, the tender 
 mercies, the loving-kindness, the infinite forbearance of my 
 heavenly Father, have predominated ; and it is only through 
 the continued exercise of his watchful love that I ana per 
 mitted to make this record. Having obtained help of him, 
 I am spared to begin another year. May I be prepar 
 ed, oh Lord, for all that it may develop, and by thy grace 
 be enabled to spend it in a diligent and holy manner. 
 
 In the spring of this year, a sudden and severe ill 
 ness incurred in the dissecting-room, and through a 
 slight scratch upon his finger, assuming the form of 
 disease which the subject he was dissecting died of, 
 had well-nigh proved fatal to the student. It inter 
 rupted his prosperous course of lectures and study, 
 and, without doubt, laid the foundation of the organic 
 disease of the lungs, that afterwards terminated his 
 mortal existence. This dangerous illness is referred 
 
 O 
 
 to as follows, in a letter to his Mother, of date, ISTew 
 York, April 4th, 1842 : 
 
 DEAR AND HONORED MOTHER Before this is sent, 
 George will have despatched a letter mentioning my unusual 
 sickness, from which, through the gracious blessing of God, I 
 am now rapidly convalescent. By the kind invitation of our 
 good friend, Mrs. Osborn, I left my room on Saturday, and 
 came up here to recruit a week under her excellent care and 
 motherly attention, which it is truly grateful to me to experi 
 ence. A fortnight ago, the weather being mild, we were obliged 
 to have the windows open while dissecting, and the currents of 
 air playing probably too freely around my head, gave me a very 
 severe cold, not causing so much of asthma as usual, but a 
 sharp pain in my right side, and, finally, inflammation of the 
 lower lobe of the right lung. George went at once for Dr. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEKVER, M.D. 275 
 
 Washington, and by His blessing who alone can control disease, 
 upon the doctor s prompt and skilful treatment, the inflam 
 mation was subdued. 
 
 My friends have been exceedingly kind. Among others, 
 Dr. Linsly called, and kindly offered me his horse and 
 barouche as soon as I should be able to go out. Thus, though 
 I have been smitten with the rod of correction, yet has it 
 been in love, and between every blow, mercies and goodness 
 unspeakable have flowed in upon me from the same Divine 
 hand. " Bless the Lord, oh my soul, and forget not all his 
 benefits." Well may I say, in view of God s marvellous good*. 
 ness to me, u How great thy grace to me ;" and I think I feel 
 sincerely to add, 
 
 My life which thou hast made thy care, 
 Lord, I devote to thee. 
 
 I do most earnestly hope that this sickness will be for the 
 glory of God, in making me more mindful of my latter end, and 
 more devoted to his blessed service than I have hitherto been. 
 The Lord has sent it in mercy I have no doubt. I was get 
 ting immersed in my studies, and perhaps making my plans 
 with too much self-dependence, and I needed some unusual 
 stroke of Providence to arouse me from my insensibility, and 
 bring me back to where I ought always to abide a prayerful 
 posture at the foot of the Cross. 
 
 Dear George has watched over me with his accustomed 
 tenderness, and has been, as you know he always is, one of 
 the best and most attentive brothers in the world. I have had 
 as yet not the least check or relapse. The Lord s goodness 
 is uninterrupted. Blessed be his name. 
 
 New York City, First Avenue, May 23rd, 1842. 
 MY VERY DEAR SISTER I was little aware that while 
 writing my last epistle I was sending a bomb-shell into the 
 little camp, at home, that was to shake it to its very centre 
 
276 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 scatter anxiety and dismay through all its precincts, and 
 seriously disturb for a time the intellect and judgment of at 
 least TWO of its occupants. I mean dear Mother and your 
 self; for I must conclude that you were laboring under a 
 state of mental concussion, or you could not have penned so 
 urgent and pathetic an invitation for my immediate return to 
 the asthmatic region of the Kennebec. It is indeed painful 
 to say nay to your urgent request, couched, as it is, in the 
 most yearning and affectionate terms. It is painful that we 
 could not all be together, with one accord in one place, form 
 ing one happy family, enjoying each other s society without 
 interruption and without separation. But this we could not 
 expect, and it is what few families experience. 
 
 I have not forgotten, I can assure you, the severe trial and 
 long protracted sufferings that I was called to endure last sum 
 mer, while on my otherwise pleasant and delightful visit at 
 home. Those sufferings, I have, alas ! too much reason to 
 know, would be again renewed with equal severity, were I to 
 attempt the experiment again. A few weeks, when the last 
 of July or first of August shall arrive, I am willing to risk 
 in what to me, so far as my health is concerned, is, in fact, 
 an enemy s country ; but an immediate return, to spend the 
 whole summer as I spent the last, in a gasping, agonizing 
 conflict, with my old invulnerable foe, is what I cannot think 
 of, and it is what you ought not, on sober reflection, to ask. 
 Our dear Mrs. Osborne is like a mother to me kind and 
 attentive to every want, sympathizing and considerate. 
 
 I have not attended any of the spring course of lectures, 
 from which, before my sudden sickness, I was reckoning to 
 derive so much benefit, as I have been afraid of exposure in 
 cold lecture-rooms, and drafts of air. I have, however, the 
 benefit of reading in the " Lancet" most accurate reports, 
 revised by the author, of Dr. Swett s excellent lectures on 
 diseases of the chest. 
 
 I cannot deny that I am not as well yet as I was during 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEE, M.D. 2 77 
 
 the winter. Though not down sick able to be out, yet I 
 pass many days under the incubus of my relentless malady ; 
 and that incubus that weight of oppression that iron 
 grasp, though you have mercifully not experienced it, you 
 have still seen enough of your suffering brother to know full 
 well what it is. I cannot deny but that under such circum 
 stances, I sometimes get into darkness and the deeps, fairly 
 depressed by the superincumbent load of suffering bruised, 
 broken, and wounded, both in body and mind, under the 
 sharp and continued stroke of the Almighty s hand, in the 
 form of an incorrigible and energetic disorder. But I strive 
 to bow with resignation to his holy will, and pray that all my 
 sufferings may be truly sanctified. 
 
 a Since life in sorrow must be spent, 
 So be it I am well content, 
 And meekly wait my last remove, 
 Seeking only growth in love. 
 No bliss I seek, but to fulfil 
 In life, in death, thy lovely will ; 
 No succors in my woes I want, 
 Save what Thou art pleased to grant. 
 Love is our only business here 
 Love, simple, constant, and sincere ; 
 Oh, blessed days thy servants see, 
 Spent, oh Lord, in pleasing thee !" 
 
278 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 TRIALS IN OBTAINING HIS PROFESSION HOPES CROWNED 
 
 WITH A MEDICAL DEGREE VOYAGE TO CUBA, WITH 
 
 NOTES OF LIFE AT HAVANA. 
 
 When, Father, thou dost send the chastening rod, 
 
 Oh, what am I that I should dare reply, 
 
 Tny love arraign, thy righteousness deny, 
 
 And set the creature in array with God ? 
 
 Far be it from my soul to question thee. 
 
 For I am nought. Be this my only prayer, 
 
 That I may have due strength the rod to bear. 
 
 And bless the hand that doth environ me. 
 
 So that, what time the outward man doth perish, 
 
 Smitten with many stripes, inflicted deep, 
 
 The inward man renewed hopes may cherish, 
 
 And high above the storms in glory sweep. 
 
 We sink in the deep waters but thy hand 
 
 Shall hold us in the waves, and bring us safe to land. 
 
 T. C. UPHAM. 
 
 THE sentiments of this submissive Scripture sonnet 
 were often in the heart and upon the lips of him to 
 whose memory we rear this book, as its only proper 
 monument. ~No useless tomb-stone or epitaph marks 
 his sepulchre in the sea ; but we are fain to hope that 
 we are building here, out of his own remains, a liv- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEE, M.D. 279 
 
 ing, speaking mausoleum, which may, perhaps, pro 
 claim his worth, and stimulate other minds by his 
 example and virtues. 
 
 It is well remarked by another,* " that it is peculiar 
 to the true children of God, that before they reach 
 that perfect life which awaits them in heaven, they 
 will have lived two blessed and beneficent lives on 
 earth. In the experience of eminent saints, the one 
 of these two lives is, at the longest, short ; the other 
 is, at its shortest, long. The one is spent by the living 
 among the living ; the other cometh up to the living 
 from among the dead. The one is the light of labor, 
 and example, and influence, moving rapidly towards 
 the grave ; the other is the power of faith, and love, 
 and suffering, coming back in perennial memories 
 from the tomb. In the one, the faithful may see rich 
 fruits from the short summer of their toils ; in the 
 other, they will hear of fruits richer still, because so 
 many ages shall lie within their harvest-time. In the 
 former, faith sometimes does its work, like Abel s, in 
 one great sacrifice ; in the latter, that faith, living in 
 some God-inspired record, often carries its work 
 through long generations, and over distant realms." 
 
 It is as an instance of Christian faith and triumph 
 under suffering, that we hold forth the example herein 
 traced. On returning to !New York, after a visit to 
 his friends in Maine, in the summer of 1842, signal 
 ized by more than ordinary suffering from his disease, 
 he enters in his Journal, Sabbath evening, November 
 20th, 1842 : 
 
 * Stone s Memoir of Dr. Milnor. 
 
280 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 I can sing of mercy and judgment. I was brought low and 
 he helped me. Through the Lord s great mercy, I am yet 
 before him the living to praise him. I left Hallowell the 
 12th of September, and arrived here the fourteenth of the 
 same month. For two months after my return, I was so 
 unwell as to render it quite doubtful if I should live through 
 the winter. But I am now much better than I had reason to 
 expect I ever should be again. Still my health is very pre 
 carious and variable ; and it would be easy, and not surpris 
 ing, for my disorder at any time to take a dangerous turn 
 that would soon bring me to the grave. Let me be prepared 
 for that event, which cannot be far distant. 
 
 On the 13th of October, my dear brother Henry sailed 
 for Valparaiso, in the ship Wales, Captain Watts. We 
 hope that great benefit may result from this measure to 
 his own health, and incalculable spiritual good to those with 
 whom he sails. It was exceedingly painful to part with 
 him for so long a voyage, and so long a period of time as 
 he must necessarily be absent ; yet I trust the Lord will be 
 with him in all his wanderings, make him an instrument of 
 great good to others, and permit us in due time to behold 
 his face in vastly better health. But should we never meet 
 again this side eternity, I confidently hope (and in this hope 
 we parted) that through the faith that unites us to Jesus, 
 we shall meet again in heaven, to walk together the streets of 
 the New Jerusalem, and to go no more out forever. 
 
 Sallath Evening , Feb. 5th, 1843. I trust I have not 
 spent an unprofitable Sabbath at home Have been em 
 ployed in reading the Bible and prayer. By the blessing 
 of God on my studies, I am hoping to graduate next month, 
 and receive my medical diploma. With this in view, I have 
 been more completely occupied this winter than I ever was 
 before indeed, almost too much so for my health. In three 
 weeks, however, I expect to be examined as a candidate for 
 medical honors ; and if I can only safely pass that ordeal, I 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEE, M.D. 281 
 
 shall feel greatly relieved, and shall then have a little rest from 
 the severe application to which I am now compelled in prepara 
 tion for it. Grant thy blessing, oh Lord, upon my endeavors, 
 and prepare me for the high responsibilities of my future pro 
 fession. 
 
 March [3tk. On Saturday, the fourth instant, I passed 
 safely my examination before the Professors ; and on Tuesday, 
 the seventh, we were all cursorily examined before the Trus 
 tees. On the third of April, we are to be examined on the 
 subject of our thesis, and the next day receive our diplomas, 
 which finishes the process of setting us afloat in the medical 
 profession". I feel a deep sense of my imperfect preparation 
 for its high duties and responsibilities, but my hope is, that 
 by future diligence and the blessing of God, I may be able 
 to make up some of my numerous deficiencies, and daily be 
 come better prepared for my future career. It is a very 
 great mercy to have been permitted to gain my profession, 
 although, from constant ill health, I feel that I am by no means 
 so thoroughly prepared in all respects as I could wish. I am 
 unworthy utterly of the Lord s great goodness a guilty, 
 weak, and helpless worm a miserable sinner, lost, undone 
 forever without Christ. Lord have mercy on me. 
 
 Saturday Afternoon, April loth, 1845. On the third of 
 this month, I was examined on my Thesis, subject my own 
 disease, ASTHMA ; and on the evening of the fourth, the public 
 exercises of examination took place, when with my other 
 class mates (fifteen besides myself,) I received my diploma, and 
 thus am fairly launched in my profession. How long, or how 
 safely my frail bark may ride on the troubled waters of life, re 
 mains to be seen. 
 
 I have this week been more seriously attacked with Hemo 
 ptysis (spitting of blood), than ever before. I feel this to be a 
 solemn warning to be ready for my summons to the eternal world, 
 for it may at any moment come. Tubercular disease may rapidly 
 supervene upon my other symptoms, perhaps it has already 
 
282 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 commenced its fatal ravages, and may very soon hurry me to 
 an early grave. Oh ! how loath we are to die ! How we do 
 " cling to the walls of this clay tenement," though we may 
 have suffered terribly from the numerous rents and gaping 
 fissures that disease has made in it. If I lived up to the high 
 amount of a Christian s privilege, I need not " start or fear 
 to die," for death to the Christian is but the portal to ever 
 lasting glory. 
 
 Last year, my birth-day, March 29th, found me just recover 
 ing from a severe attack of pneumonia, or violent inflamma 
 tion of the lungs, from which I barely escaped with my life. 
 Fain did I then think and resolve that I would live more 
 holily than ever before, and in some respects I did, for quite a 
 long time, improve and wax strong. But, ah ! my goodness 
 was too much u as the morning cloud, and the early dew, 
 which soon passeth away." I feel this bleeding at the lungs 
 to be now a memento mori of most solemn, emphatic import. 
 To be sure, it is not necessarily fatal by any means ; many 
 persons have had, and do have it to quadruple the extent that 
 I ever suffered, and yet live twenty or thirty years afterwards, 
 and enjoy good health. By going to a milder climate in the 
 autumn, as I intend, if Providence permit, and there residing 
 a number of years, my health may be greatly improved, and 
 partially restored. But I am constrained to think that there 
 is in my lungs an incipient tendency to Tubercular Phthisis, 
 pulmonary consumption ; and if this be the case, this animal 
 frame will, very probably, some day, perhaps not far distant, 
 be brought to its kindred dust by this relentless destroyer of 
 the human race. 
 
 If it is God s will, be it so. I shall sink into the grave, 
 and be, so far as this world is concerned, as to anything 
 I have done in it, to make my name remembered, as though I 
 had not been. But oh ! most gracious Lord ! lift me above 
 the dominion of such gloomy, despairing thoughts. Grant 
 unto me that faith which unites to the Lamb that faith which 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 283 
 
 u says to the mountains, Depart; that stand betwixt God and 
 the soul." Oh ! grant me such an overcoming faith, that I 
 may be enabled joyfully to contemplate death, as but the 
 medium of transfer to that blessed world where all is love, joy, 
 peace, and blessedness everlasting. 
 
 " Nor pain, nor grief, nor anxious fear, invade those bounds." 
 
 Oh ! my soul, " set now thine house in order, prepare to meet 
 thy God." Did I know that I should live yet thirty years, 
 how soon would it be gone ! How soon is the little all, the inch 
 or two of time that makes even the longest earthly existence, 
 lost and swallowed up, with the years that have been. " And 
 he died," must at length be said of the longest, best-spent life 
 on earth. Blessed Saviour ! may I be daily washed in thy 
 precious blood, which alone can take away sin. May my soul 
 be purified, and made white ; and may I be abundantly fitted 
 by grace, and ready, whenever thou shalt call me, to enter upon 
 the blissful enjoyments of thine immediate presence, in the 
 heavenly world Amen. 
 
 Of a date near to one of these entries in the Journal, 
 is the following letter to his brother who had gone to 
 the Pacific, a part of which we admit here because it 
 sheds light upon one important element, and trait of 
 character, viz. the uncommon strength and vivacity of 
 his fraternal affection. " Thy love to me was wonder 
 ful, passing the love of woman." 
 
 And now my dear, dear H. what shall I say unto thee ? 
 Where shall I begin amid the hosts of tender thoughts and 
 emotions that have been struggling in my bosom for utterance, 
 ever since the memorable day of your departure ? .1 can truly 
 say as Paul to the Corinthians, " My mouth is opened unto 
 you, my heart is enlarged." Yes, my heart is full, 
 overflowing, and if I can lead off to you through this chan- 
 
284: MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 ncl but a tiny will of the effervescent, living flood of burning 
 thoughts, and ardent affections, I shall do as much as I could 
 reasonably expect. 
 
 Through the Lord s great goodness, my health has been im 
 proving since you sailed, and I felt wonderfully cheerful, and 
 sustained under the trial of our separation. Indeed it seemed 
 more or less of relief after painful depressing anticipations, 
 and the harrowing excitement and hurry of preparation for the 
 voyage, to feel that the long agony was over, the first act 
 passed, and the enterprise fairly commenced. And then the 
 circumstances of the undertaking have been so full of mercy, 
 and the hand of our Heavenly Father, so evidently guiding and 
 controlling all, that we have felt the pangs of separation to be 
 greatly assuaged, bitter and severe though its necessity has 
 been. We are strong in the belief that it will be for your re 
 covery, and confident in the hope of your usefulness on board 
 the ship. It is not too much to ask of G-od that all with 
 whom you sail may be brought into the fold of Christ. No ! 
 it is not ; and it is our daily, earnest prayer, that this may be 
 the blessed result of your labors. ! my dear H. my heart 
 is continually going out towards you, and ascending heaven 
 wards in intense, longing desires, that cannot be uttered for 
 your health and usefulness. We meet in spirit often at the 
 throne of grace ; may we feel daily more and more the un 
 speakable preciousness of such a privilege. 
 
 Our communion in times past has been always sweet, and 
 I think we may say for the most part profitable, particularly 
 for the last year or two, while both under the chastening, but 
 kind and merciful hand of our Heavenly Father. We have 
 " sat together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus," and talked 
 much of " the things belonging to the kingdom of God," and 
 our own highest good ; and we have unitedly, when under the 
 pressure of affliction, poured our groans and complaints into 
 His ear, who was " a man of sorrows and acquainted with 
 grief," and can best bind up the bruised and broken of heart. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVER, M.D. 285 
 
 I have been richly fed to-day in the sanctuary. May I 
 inwardly digest, and have incorporated into my being the in 
 struction I have received. This morning I heard an excel 
 lent discourse from Rev. Dr. Adams, on the importance of 
 prayerful retirement and self-mortification, from Luke 6th 
 chapter, 12th verse, and Galatians 5th chapter, 24th verse. 
 This afternoon an arousing, profitable, and faithful sermon on 
 much the same subject from 2nd Corinthians, 1st chap, llth 
 verse. Both sermons were in confirmation of the Pastoral 
 Letter that has been issued by the third Presbytery to the 
 different churches under its care. 
 
 Give my kindest remembrance to our friend the Captain, 
 and tell him I trust when he returns, we may welcome him 
 as a brother in Chri&t. This letter will be a long and weary 
 time on the way, but it will be as new to you, when you get it, 
 as though it had gone with rail-road speed. I attended my 
 first recitation at Dr. Parker s office on Friday, the 28th inst. 
 I hope I shall have strength to get through my studies this 
 winter, but, perhaps, I shall not ; perhaps the " residue of my 
 years will be cut oif in the midst." Ever pray that I may be 
 prepared for every event of God s providence. The Lord 
 ever bless and keep you. Your loving Brother, 
 
 NATHANIEL. 
 
 This yearning desire and hope of honorably com 
 pleting his medical studies, which, to less energy and 
 perseverance than his, under such a load of infirmity, 
 would have been quite impossible, a gracious Provi 
 dence permitted him to realize. His influence also 
 was eminently salutary upon his fellow-students. As 
 President of the Medical Temperance Society in the 
 Crosby Street College, he labored with an honorable 
 zeal and animation in its behalf, personally soliciting 
 his fellow-students to join, and give their influence in 
 
286 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 favor of the cause of temperance. The consummation 
 of his hopes in the attainment of a Medical Degree, 
 upon the completion of a regular course of study and 
 lectures, is thus playfully announced in a letter to his 
 
 Sister : 
 
 New York, March 8th, 1848, Wednesday evening. 
 
 MOST DEARLY BELOVED SISTER It has often during the 
 winter been a self-denial to be obliged to repress the strong 
 tide of affection, and prevent it from gushing forth through 
 the delightful channel of epistolary communication. The 
 necessity of such a repression is now removed ; and I am 
 determined that the stream shall be as broad, and deep, and 
 full, as its confined boundaries will possibly allow. Yes, 
 dear Lizzie, the agony is over the grist has come out of the 
 mill, and the bag that contains it is christened M.D. I 
 passed safely my examination before the Professors on Satur 
 day, March 4th ; and yesterday we were all examined again 
 before the Trustees of the College. This last examination is 
 but a secondary, slight affair, but is required by the laws of 
 the institution before we can obtain our diplomas. 
 
 On Monday, the 2nd of April, we are to assemble again, 
 and be examined on our Inaugural Dissertations in public, or 
 as it is called, defend our Thesis. We are then to be ad 
 dressed by our President, Dr. John Augustine Smith, and 
 the next day receive our diplomas. This finishes the game ; 
 and thenceforward we are to stand or fall as physicians, 
 should we all practise the healing art, on our own merits. It 
 is, I can assure you, an unspeakable relief to have passed 
 favorably that examination which was necessary in order to 
 obtain the degree of Doctor of Medicine, and thus place me 
 on a legal basis with the highest in the profession. An im 
 mense incubus has been taken from off my shoulders, which 
 had been growing still more heavy and oppressive, as the 
 time approached that was to decide whether I was still 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 287 
 
 longer to stagger under the load, or be as now, through the 
 Lord s great mercy, happily relieved. Considering the im 
 mense difficulties and hindrances from infirm health, with 
 which I have had constantly to struggle in obtaining my 
 medical education, the favor of a happy issue to my studies 
 is truly a most signal one, and ought to be dwelt upon with 
 the most lively gratitude. I have had a winter of severe 
 study the most so of any of my life. Attendance on the 
 lectures and office recitations, has been, during the cold 
 weather, a great trial to my health. Indeed, much to my 
 sorrow, I have been compelled, on that account, to lose 
 many both of lectures and recitations the benefit of which, 
 particularly the latter, I have felt that I could ill afford to 
 forego. 
 
 My health, I think, on the whole, has not been as good as 
 it was last winter. I have had, it is true, fewer violent spas 
 modic attacks of asthma ; but it has been more habitual, and 
 my cough has been more steadily severe and troublesome. I 
 weigh some six or eight pounds more than when I left Hallo- 
 well, and am vastly better than at that time ; but it has been 
 truly with the " skin of my teeth" that I have passed through 
 this winter ; and it ought to be the last I spend in this 
 climate for a number of years, As to thinking of perma 
 nently practising in New York, with my present health, it 
 would be folly and madness. I must seek a milder climate 
 before another winter, for I have barely survived this. I. 
 intend to remain here during the summer attend the spring 
 course see as much practice as I can at the hospitals, dis 
 pensaries, etc., and be with Dr. P. as much as possible take 
 cases also myself to attend to among the poor, and endeavor 
 to perfect myself as far as I can in the routine of my profes 
 sion. 
 
 In September, I must be winging my flight southward to 
 more genial skies most probably to the West Indies, Trini 
 dad de Cuba. But more of this when my arrangements are 
 
288 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 more definitely formed. Were my offers and profits ever so 
 tempting, it would be hazardous to my life to remain north 
 another winter at this time. 
 
 I long intensely sometimes to enjoy the society of 
 yourself and dear Mother, but it fills me with gloom to 
 think of returning to Hallowell. I feel like weeping when I 
 think of the long years of suffering I have there been com 
 pelled to endure the joyous season of my boyhood, the days 
 of my youth, saddened and oppressed by the iron hand of a 
 most relentless, distressing disorder, and still, almost as hope 
 lessly as ever under its power ; and yet, perhaps, in the 
 darkest hour, " There most His mercy shone." 
 
 My heart is full of love, and it longs to have the objects of its 
 affection near at hand. Oh, if I had the blessing of perfect 
 health, and the prospect of pecuniary competence, how soon 
 would I be seeking one that might always be near the dear, 
 sweet companion both of joyous and of weary hours. Yes, 
 dear E., if I were well, and competently situated, you should 
 soon have a sister to love. The deep, strong pulses of love, 
 are ever and anon throbbing with almost ungovernable im 
 petuosity from the very centre of my soul ; and I frankly 
 confess that it is one of the hardest trials I am called to 
 endure, to be obliged, in consequence of my ill health, in 
 definitely to postpone all thoughts of ever realising the beau 
 ideal of my imagination in a lovely wife. But enough and 
 too much. Your affectionate brother. 
 
 The ensuing summer of 1843, he paid his last visit 
 to his friends in Maine, his Mother, Sister, and eldest 
 Brother joining him at his Uncle s, J. S. Barrell, by 
 the sea-side, in Old York, in order that he might not 
 have to repeat the hazardous experiment of another 
 trip to the Kennebec. It was a visit of precious, yet 
 melancholy interest on both sides, and felt to be the 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 289 
 
 last, forasmuch as his plan was fixed for a residence 
 in the West Indies. Though Consumption had plainly 
 marked him for her own, his spirits were buoyant, yet 
 serene ; his hopes, if not sanguine, yet chastened and 
 steady ; his purpose and energy strong to banish him 
 self from his country and friends, for the exercise of 
 his profession ; while his heart and social emotions 
 were never more genial or tender towards his kindred 
 and kind. It was a visit by which he became doubly 
 endeared to an appreciating circle of relatives and 
 friends, and entwined also with the sensibilities of 
 some whom he had not known before. The following 
 is a brief record of this visit in the Private Journal : 
 
 York, Maine, Say ward Place, Sept. 20th, 1843. I arrived 
 at this lovely abode of my ancestors, on the 26th of July ; 
 having been here eight weeks to-day. Dear Mother and 
 Sister arrived from Hallowell the day previous, and G-eorge 
 was with us four weeks. "We have enjoyed very much to 
 gether, and have had unnumbered mercies to be grateful for. 
 My health has been various as it is in New York. I expect 
 to leave to-morrow for New York, and from thence, in the 
 course of a month, to embark for Trinidad de Cuba. 
 
 New York, Oct. 7th, Saturday Evening. I bade a painful 
 adieu to dear Mother and E., at York on the 21st September, 
 and arrived safely in this city, by God s blessing, on the 23rd. 
 My heart almost sinks when I think of parting with the beloved 
 brother with whom I have now for so long a time been living 
 in circumstances of the most intimate and familiar endearment. 
 I am to launch alone into the world, and enter its scenes with 
 out a single dear friend at my side, with whom to counsel and 
 advise, and hold sweet communion. Alone have I been before, 
 many months, nay years, as in South America, and Malaga, 
 when I was separated for two years, from all my nearest re- 
 13 
 
290 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 laticms ; but I have never before set out upon any career in 
 life, as I am now doing in the profession of medicine. Lord, 
 I entreat thee, direct and bless me in all my under takings 
 that are consistent with thy will, and may I never enter upon 
 any that are not. Preserve me from all the temptations, 
 snares, perplexities, and trials that may await me, whither I am 
 going. Grant me skill in my profession, and make me a great 
 blessing to many, both in their bodies and in their spirits, 
 which are thine. O, keep me ever near Thee, in humble faith 
 and dependance ! Deliver me from the dreadful corruptions 
 and wickedness of my own heart, which are more dangerous 
 to my safety and peace than outward enemies. In thee may 
 I ever trust ; save me from all my foes, and keep me unto 
 thine heavenly kingdom, to go no more out for ever Amen. 
 New York, Sabbath Evening, Oct. Sth. I have enjoyed a 
 pleasant, retired Sabbath in my own room, and I hope a pro 
 fitable one. This evening I have renewed my covenant with 
 God in cheerful sincerity, and I trust entire consecration to 
 His blessed service. Oh ! that his powerful grace may enable 
 me henceforth to walk " holily and without blame before Him 
 in love." But one or two Sabbaths remain to me, for the 
 present, in this land of Gospel light and privilege ; in a few 
 weeks I shall, if God permit, be in a land cursed and darkened 
 with two great evils Slavery and Popery. May the light of 
 love in my own breast shine pure and brightly for my own 
 guidance, and in some humble manner, perhaps, for the bene 
 fit of others around me, amid the new scenes of life upon which 
 I am about to enter. 
 
 " Blest Saviour ! Let it be my lot ; 
 
 To tread with Thee, this round of being ; 
 Thy love and mercy alter not, 
 
 When every sunbeam friend is fleeing. 
 Thy love shall be my polar light, 
 
 And whether weal or woe betide me, 
 Through raging storm and shadowy night, 
 
 Its blaze shall shine to cheer and guide me." 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEB, M.D. 291 
 
 The time of his departure to the Island of Cuba is 
 now at hand, and the following is an extract from his 
 last American letter, WTitten on the eve of sailing : 
 
 New York, Oct. 29th, 1843. 
 
 TO MY DEAR AND HONORED MOTHER AND MY BELOVED SIS 
 TER. I know you will wish to hear everything of any interest 
 concerning me ; and I shall, therefore, dash " in medias res," 
 and compress into this letter as much as possible. Dear E. 7 s 
 farewell letter of October 23rd, was safely received on the 
 25th instant, and I thank my sweet sister for the joy which 
 it gave, and for the affectionate advice, kind injunctions, 
 and loving salutations which it contained. The latter I re 
 turn with all the warmth, tenderness, and energy of a bro 
 ther s devoted heart ; the former, I hope, I shall ponder 
 and profit by, as it is just the counsel which I desire to im 
 press deeply on the tablets of my own heart. May heavenly 
 peace and consolation remain with you, my dear Mother and 
 Sister ; and oh, may the peace of God which passeth all un 
 derstanding, keep my mind and heart in Christ Jesus con 
 tinually. I am about to sail upon the material ocean, and 
 am emphatically just launching upon the ocean of life. May 
 he whose skill is alone competent to direct, guide me in 
 safety through all the shoals and quicksands that lie in my 
 course, and, at length, my perils over, bring me in safety to 
 the -haven of eternal rest. 
 
 Through his gracious blessing, I think I can say that all is 
 well. All is well, whether it be for life or death. I have 
 committed, and desire daily to commit, my eternal interests 
 my everlasting all, into his hands ; and he is faithful who has 
 promised to save all who put their trust in him. 
 
 " Jesus, my God, I know his name, 
 
 His name is all my trust ; 
 Nor will he put my soul to shame, 
 Nor let my hope be lost." 
 
292 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 I expect to feel deeply the want of Christian society and 
 friendly companionship, and to pass some lonely hours ; but 
 unhappy ones I need not have, if I only keep near to him 
 who is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother. Pray 
 that he will ever enable me to do so. 
 
 My baggage was sent on board the ship yesterday, P. M., 
 and in compliance with a previous arrangement, I took my 
 carpet-bag and rode up to pass a pleasant Sabbath with 
 our most excellent and hospitable friends, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Osborn. It is much more agreeable to take my departure 
 from their kind roof, than it would have been from my board 
 ing-house. My health has withstood the fatigue and excite 
 ment of preparation for my departure remarkably well. 
 
 Let us feel that heaven is our home, and be ever 
 aiming to arrive there ourselves, and if God enable us, by 
 any means to bring others along with us. My heart is con 
 tinually going out toward you ; and you must imagine and 
 believe, that if love were a material essence, every individual 
 article of this package would be imbued and interpenetrated 
 with the warmest affection of my soul. Greorge has given me 
 D Aubigne s History to take with me, and also Bogatsky s 
 " Golden Treasury" an excellent, spiritual, every-day com 
 panion for the Christian. 
 
 Monday, P.M., Ship Hellespont. Safe on board, a steamer 
 along-side, towing us down the harbor, with my dear brother 
 and Cousin accompanying me as far as they can. Every 
 thing is favorable. My noble brother has done all for me, and 
 I am well provided with every comfort. I feel in good spirits 
 for the voyage, and trust the Lord will be with me in all my 
 goings. 
 
 The Private Religious Diary, and a Journal for 
 Friends, which he now resumes, henceforth supply all 
 materials of biography not furnished by letters. We 
 shall quote from the two interchangeably, only re- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 293 
 
 marking that the entries on the Sabbath are always 
 from the Diary. 
 
 November 3rd, 1843. Ship Hellespont, Captain Ellis, Lat. 
 32 56 , N., Long. 74 30 , W. We encountered, about 
 forty miles eastward of Cape Hatteras, that nucleus of 
 storms, a tremendous gale of wind, accompanied with tor 
 rents of rain, and b/ thunder and lightning of the most 
 appalling nearness and intensity. I shall long remember 
 the helpless confusion, and in many respects grotesque 
 distresses of that wild and stormy night. The lightning flash 
 ed with a brightness that was almost blinding, the thunder 
 rolled and grated as if the very firmament would split asunder ; 
 the wind blew almost a hurricane ; the rain fell in buckets 
 full, and the ship at every roll went gunwales under, and 
 pitched down the declivity of the giant billows as though she 
 would founder bows foremost. 
 
 If any door was unfortunately left unsecured, slam bang it 
 swung upon its hinges, and chairs, settees, and other articles of 
 furniture slid about the cabin floor, like beings of animated 
 life, and the dishes rattled as if there would never again be a 
 plate to eat from. We were shut up in the cabin, like so 
 many chickens in a coop, for fear of the torrents of rain and 
 sea water that were flooding our decks outside. The lamps 
 were out, the air so suffocatingly close, that we could hardly 
 breathe, and not a ray of light entered, except now and then 
 the flash down the sky-lights of the red lightning. 
 
 In the midst of all this darkness and confusion, one of our gen 
 tleman passengers, who had ventured from his state-room to view 
 the commotion of the great deep, stumbled against the stove 
 pipe and threw the whole down pell-mell upon the floor. He was 
 a good humored Grerman, and after the storm he laughingly told 
 the Captain, that he thought he ought to bring in his bill for 
 taking down that stove-pipe ! And sure enough it was taken 
 down in good time, for since the storm, we have had no need 
 
MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 of artificial heat, and the glorious sun shines to-day with a most 
 benignant warmth, diffusing cheerfulness and health among 
 our late woe-begone company. 
 
 The weather is now lovely, thermometer 72 in the shade, 
 a mild, gentle breeze, and our invalids and other passengers 
 all on deck, enjoying it to the uttermost, after the fatigues 
 and hardships of the last three days. Our invalids are 
 improving, and we all have reason tT) bless the watchful 
 care of that Almighty Protector, who has preserved us from 
 the fury of the elements, and brought us thus far on our way. 
 In the midst of the gale, two large globes of fire were seen by 
 those on deck, perched aloft upon the ship s yards. These, 
 the Captain assures me, are never seen but in a very heavy 
 gale, and he has generally noticed that they are visible at its 
 very height. 
 
 Tuesday , P.J1., Nov. 1th. Our lady passengers have 
 proved very pleasant ones, and they have contributed not a 
 little to my experience of the pleasure and benefit of this 
 voyage. The Miss M ? s are sweet, lovely, beautiful girls. 
 Gertrude is the invalid, on whose account the voyage was 
 undertaken ; her health has improved, and it is delightful to 
 see the tenderness and delicate affection with which her noble 
 sister Agatha, who is the picture of health, her kind Mother 
 and Brother, all watch over and attend to her minutest wants. 
 Domestic affection is lovely to behold wherever it is met with, 
 and my heart warms towards those whom I behold exercising 
 it. The Captain is exceedingly kind and polite to all his 
 passengers. The table is furnished with almost every luxury 
 plenty of ice, poultry, and vegetables. 
 
 At Sea, Sabbath Afternoon. Through His gracious provi 
 dence, who most emphatically can alone control those agents 
 of His power, the stormy winds, the angry waves, and the roll 
 ing orbs, we were preserved from any loss of life or material 
 ili mage, to our ship in the late fearful storm. The passengers 
 a,o a more than ordinarily agreeable company. I have 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 295 
 
 opened for their perusal, and for distribution among the 
 sailors, a bundle of tracts which I brought with me, and they 
 have been most kindly received by all on board. I have 
 been forward among the men, and have had some pleasant 
 conversation with one of the sailors, who seems to be seri 
 ously inclined. Bless, O Lord, the seed I may sow. I have 
 had a profitable Sabbath, through God s precious word and 
 his throne of grace, to which I may continually resort, and 
 draw therefrom rich stores of wisdom, grace, and consolation. 
 
 " How sweet to be allowed to pray to God the Holy one." 
 
 I think I feel the privilege, it is precious, unspeakably so. 
 Dear Jesus ! Blessed Redeemer, keep me, Oh ! keep me 
 near to thee. Worldliness and alienation from Thee, prevail 
 around me, draw me to thyself, and bind me by the blessed 
 cords of thy love. 
 
 Bahama Banks. Latitude 24 48 north, longitude 78 
 West. We have been passing the Stirrup Keys this after 
 noon, at a distance of about two miles, with a heavy norther 
 driving us towards a lee-shore, on which the sea was breaking 
 with tremendous violence. The long line of breakers formed 
 one of the most magnificent spectacles that I ever beheld, 
 lashing as though they would strike to the earth s centre, 
 upon the rocky beach, and throwing a cascade of foam and 
 spray from forty to fifty feet perpendicular into the air. 
 Driven by such a sea, had we struck on that shore, there 
 would hardly have been any hope of saving a single person of 
 all on board. But our good ship, under the guidance of an 
 experienced Captain, stood along stiffly under a heavy press 
 of canvas at the rate of eight or nine knots an hour. This 
 day s test proves her to be an excellent, staunch sea-boat. 
 
 The sea-lead has been thrown at intervals during the day. 
 At half past three o clock this P. M., we were in seven and 
 a quarter fathoms, twenty and a half feet. I never before 
 was sailing along at the rate of six to eight knots an hour, 
 
296 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 feeling the ship s way with the lead ; and it is by no means 
 an agreeable sensation to know the necessity of thus nicely 
 measuring the depth of water beneath the ship s keel. It is 
 in truth dangerous and critical navigation, and needs the 
 utmost watchfulness and skill, which our worthy Captain is 
 most carefully exercising. 
 
 One o clock, A. M., Nov. 9th. Still on the Banks, three 
 and a half fathom water under our keel. Some casts of the 
 lead have been as low as " one fourth less three" that is, 
 sixteen and a half feet, our ship drawing eleven and a half 
 feet. The night is perfectly clear, and the full moon shining 
 most splendidly. A man is in the mizzen chains, constantly 
 throwing the lead, and all hands on deck to manoeuvre the 
 ship, should she suddenly get into too shoal water, or strike 
 the bottom, as ships not unfrequently do. The sailor in the 
 chains, at every cast of the lead, sings out in regular profes 
 sional style, and prolonged musical cadence, the report of 
 water ; and we are now listening to his voice with an excite 
 ment and interest that is thrilling. " What water have 
 you ?" is a question of solemn and critical interest in our 
 present circumstances. We expect to be across the Banks 
 in the course of one or two hours ; and all our gentlemen 
 passengers, except one, who is too great an invalid, are keep 
 ing an anxious watch until we shall have passed over this 
 dangerous tract of shoal-water. 
 
 It is an harassing time for the Captain, and for all on board 
 who know anything of the peculiar dangers of our situation. 
 A voyage across the Atlantic is much less beset with perils 
 than this West India navigation, where shoal-water, low, 
 dangerous Keys, and hidden rocks, are continually in the 
 path of the mariner. Hundreds of vessels are constantly 
 passing on this same track ; and by extreme care in con 
 stantly throwing the lead, they may pass in safety, but they 
 are often wrecked by a neglect of the proper precautions. 
 The bottom is generally sandy, and vessels sometimes thump 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 297 
 
 lightly even a number of times, and pass on without any 
 damage ; but if there is much sea, and the strike heavy, they 
 will soon go to pieces. Sometimes the water is said to be so 
 clear, that the fine sandy bottom may be seen in the daytime 
 with perfect distinctness, in ten or twelve fathoms of water. 
 
 Quarter past two o^dock, A. M. We have just passed off 
 the Banks in safety. Five or six fathoms of water on the 
 edge of the Banks, two hundred and twenty-five just outside, 
 and then no bottom in the deep, unfathomed waters of the 
 Gulf Stream ! Supposing the sea should retire, what an 
 awful precipice would be exposed to view. More than thirteen 
 hundred feet perpendicular descent in some parts ; and how 
 much more in others, man does not know. The line of de 
 marcation, separating the light green of the Banks from the 
 dark blue waters of the Gulf, was most singularly distinct. 
 The waters were piled up in juxta-position, but not at all 
 blended. The moon shone brightly, enabling us clearly to 
 discern this remarkable boundary for a considerable time be 
 fore we reached it ; there it lay right in the path of our ship, 
 extending on each side as far as the eye could reach ap 
 parently a dense wall of Egyptian darkness, and thickness 
 immeasurable, looking truly ominous and appalling. But 
 onward, onward must we go, and onward rushes our ship like 
 a creature of life, eager to know her fate. At last our bows 
 touch the Rubicon. What now if a line of precipitous, 
 sunken rocks, should lie just on the margin ? But on she 
 bounds, to the joy of our hearts, into the deep, dark waters 
 of the Gulf Stream ; and we all breathe freer, with an un 
 measured abyss beneath our keel. 
 
 Nov. Wthj off Havana. We made the Highland near the 
 Matanzas Bay, last night about 12 o clock, and are now only 
 the tenth day from New York, standing with a very light breeze 
 towards the Moro Castle, whose frowning battlements loom 
 up high in the distance. The morning is beautiful, the air 
 mild and bland, and the blue outline of the coast, as we sail 
 
298 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 along, faintly defined against the horizon, looks hot and 
 tropical. Thirteen sail are in sight, and now and then a fly 
 ing-fish lightly skimming the surface of the waves. , 
 
 From the battlements of the Moro Castle we are hailed in 
 English, by a man with a huge speaking-trumpet, " Ship 
 Ahoy." u Aye, aye." " Where are you from ?" "New 
 York ;" and on we shot through the narrow entrance, like an 
 arrow, and came to anchor off the Custom House, where we 
 were very soon boarded by the " Sanidad," or health boat. 
 The entrance of the harbor is amply wide enough for two 
 ships to go in or out abreast, although if one be going in and 
 the other out, it requires nice management and seamanship to 
 keep them from coming in contact. 
 
 The Moro is a fine, imposing-looking Castle, has a well- 
 supplied telegraph-station upon its walls, and built as it is, 
 upon steep, precipitous rocks, rising directly from the water s 
 edge, and within pistol-shot of the ship-channel, it forms a very 
 strong defence to the city and harbor, against any attacks from 
 the sea. It is connected with another long range of fortifica 
 tions extending inland, on the brow of the hill called the 
 Cabafias. On the opposite side of the harbor s mouth is also 
 another strong fort called La Punta. 
 
 Havana^ Saturday^ Nov. l&th, 1843. Visited, yesterday, 
 the Cathedral which contains the ashes of the immortal dis 
 coverer of a New World, whose name some large portion 
 of it ought to have borne. The remains of Columbus, 
 placed in an urn, are inserted in the wall of the Cathedral, 
 near the grand altar and tabernacle, and a bust, or medallion 
 of him, well-executed in white marble, covers the spot. At 
 the base is the following inscription in Spanish, " O Restos 
 e Imagen del grande Colon ! Mil siglos durad guardados en la 
 Urna, Y en remembranza de nuestra nacion." relics and 
 image of the great Colon ! A ! thousand centuries remain 
 guarded in thy urn, and in the memories of our nation. On 
 the opposite side of the Grand Altar is a small painting in- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 299 
 
 sorted in the wall in 1823, supposed to have been executed, 
 according to the inscription upon it, in 1478, fourteen years 
 before the discovery of America. It represents His Holiness 
 the Pope, and a company of ecclesiastics saying mass in cele 
 bration of Christ s descent from the cross. 
 
 Columbus died at Segovia, in Spain, May 20th, 150G, 
 nearly 70 years of age. His last words were, " In manus 
 tuas, doinine, commendo spiritum meum." His body was de 
 posited in the Convent of San Francisco, and his Exequias 
 were celebrated with great formality in the parish of Santa 
 Maria de la Antigua de Valladolid. In 1613 his remains were 
 transported to the Castugan Monastery of Las Luevas in 
 Seville, where were deposited those of his son Don Diego, who 
 died 23rd of February, 1526. In the year 1536, the bodies 
 of Colon and his son were carried to Hispaniola, and in 
 terred in the principal chapel of the cathedral of St. Domingo ; 
 but even there they did not rest in peace, for they were after 
 wards disinterred and carried to the city of Havana, in Cuba. 
 Ferdinand decreed to Colon, after his death, a very cheap 
 honor. He commanded to be erected a monument with this 
 inscription " For Castillo y por Leon Nuevo Mundo 
 hallo Colon." For Castile and Leon A new world found 
 Colon. 
 
 On the 20th Dec., 1795, his remains were again disinterred 
 with great pomp, placed in a leaden box, and on the 21st, the 
 requiem was sung and the box put on board the ship of war to 
 carry to Havana, where she Arrived the 15th of January, 1796. 
 There they were conducted on shore with great pomp, a 
 solemn mass and office of the dead was said, and the ashes 
 deposited, where they now remain, on the right of the grand 
 altar. Washington Irving says, " When we read of th-j 
 translation of the ashes of the hero from the port of St. 
 Domingo, after an interval of almost 300 years, as sacred, na 
 tional relics, with high pomp, and religious, military, and civil 
 ceremony, the most illustrious and distinguished men, striving 
 
300 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 to do them honor ; we cannot do less than reflect, that from 
 that same port, he had gone out, loaded with ignominious 
 chains, stained apparently in his fame as in his fortune, and 
 followed by the cries of the populace. Such honors certainly 
 import very little to the dead, nor could they recompense the 
 heart now turned to dust and ashes, all the injuries and evils 
 which he suffered, but they speak with an eloquent and con 
 soling voice to illustrious men who are persecuted and calum 
 niated, animating them to bear with courage present in 
 juries, knowing that true merit survives calumny and receives 
 a glorious reward in the admiration of future ages." 
 
 There is another place in this city connected with the 
 memory of Columbus, deserving of notice. It is that called 
 the Templete, and situated on the Plaza de Armas, being the 
 spot where Columbus and his followers celebrated the first 
 mass that was ever said on this island. There is a small 
 chapel in the enclosure, which is very rarely opened, and in 
 front stands a column, with a statue of the Virgin surmounting 
 it, and this is said to be but a few feet from the tree, under 
 which the mass was said. The tree itself, I learn, was stand 
 ing until the year 1826, when some repairs and alterations 
 were made, and the noble trunk which had lived more than 
 three hundred years, and around which would cluster so many 
 interesting associations, was most barbarously cut down. There 
 are some good paintings inside the chapel, by a French painter 
 representing the scene of the first landing, and the first mass, 
 the OLD MASS TREE among other objects. 
 
 "We necessarily omit here interesting descriptions 
 of the Cemetery, Gardens, and Suburbs of Havana, 
 and pass to the last entry made in that city : 
 
 Havana, Saturday Evening, Dec. 2nd. I am still here 
 where I fain hoped that I should not be at this time, but owing 
 to an aggravating delay in obtaining my permit from the 
 government, to depart from the city, I shall be detained yet 
 
OF NATHANIEL CIIEEVER, M.D. 301 
 
 longer. The trammels, vexations, and impositions, to which 
 a foreigner is here subjected by the government, are almost 
 beyond endurance, and make me sick and weary of the place, 
 for if it is a hard thing to get into Havana, it is surely much 
 harder to get safe out. 
 
 These annoyances, some of which, in behalf of his 
 countrymen, he was active in procuring the mitigation 
 of, while at Havana, are more particularly described 
 in one of the letters of his published Correspondence 
 in the " ISTew York Commercial Advertiser." Its 
 length and - particularity preclude its insertion here. 
 Through his vigilance and conscientiousness in refus 
 ing to sign the ordinary form of a petition to the 
 Captain-General for a passport (which affirmed, among 
 other things, that the petitioner was of the Catholic 
 religion), and through the energy of his represent 
 ations to the government, seconded by the American 
 Consul, and by other Americans, who had ignorantly 
 signed and sworn to papers of which they knew not the 
 purport, several of the obnoxious requisitions upon 
 foreigners were remitted. 
 
 The initial documents, he says, that were necessary 
 for the obtaining a " Letter of Domiciliation," were as 
 illiberal and bigoted a specimen of legislation as ever 
 disgraced the statute book of a civilized nation. They 
 were worthy of the palmiest days of the Inquisition, 
 and Torquernada himself might appropriately have 
 framed them. Through his representations a modifi 
 cation was effected in the oppressive regulations ; and 
 he had the satisfaction of seeing the alteration pub 
 lished in the " Diario del Gobierno." 
 
302 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Hope was now ascendant, with so auspicious a be 
 ginning, that he should be able to do much for the 
 glory of God and the good of his fellow men, in the 
 country of his adoption. He was ever in the habit 
 of looking aloft, and finding the rainbow behind the 
 cloud. In him were exemplified those quaint, expres 
 sive lines of Faithful Teate : 
 
 Hope s the top- window of that Ark 
 Where all God s Noahs do embark ; 
 Hope lets in sky-light, else how dark 
 
 Were such a season ? 
 Hope hath a harvest in the Spring, 
 In Winter doth of Summer sing 
 Feeds on the fruits while blossoming, 
 
 Yet nips no bloom. 
 
 Hope brings me home, when I m abroad j 
 Soon as the first step homeward s trod, 
 In Hope, to Thee, my God ! my God ! 
 
 I comeI come. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEB, M.D. 303 
 
 CHAPTEE XIY. 
 
 ARRIVAL AND SETTLEMENT AT TRINIDAD EXAMINED 
 
 AND APPROVED BY THE ROYAL UNIVERSITY INVES 
 TITURE WITH THE RIGHT OF PRACTICE. 
 
 They who know the Saviour s name, 
 Are for all events prepared ; 
 What can changes do for them, 
 Who have such a guide and guard ? 
 Should they traverse earth around, 
 To the promise still they come ; 
 Every spot is holy ground 
 God is there, and He s their Home. 
 
 NEWTON. 
 
 WE approach in this chapter the last failure of 
 earthly expectations and struggles, to which all must 
 come. The energy which w r e have seen, has hitherto 
 sustained the invalid lonely sufferer, bears him on to 
 the place he had fixed upon for the exercise of his 
 hard-earned profession, and afterward through the 
 rigorous ordeal of a medical examination in Spanish, 
 by the jealous Academy of Havana. God, in his 
 Providence, seemed to have peculiarly prepared him 
 for useful residence in a Spanish Catholic country. 
 His Protestantism was intelligent and thorough, and 
 
304 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 his knowledge of Romanism explicit and practical, 
 gained first by history and afterward by much travel 
 and observation in Popish countries. 
 
 His familiar acquaintance also with the vernacular 
 Spanish tongue, together with his social, friendly dis 
 position, gave him facilities for access to Spanish 
 Catholic minds, which there is every reason to believe 
 he would have wisely improved for the inculcation of 
 religious truth, and the diffusion of light from the 
 Word of God. For the sake of the good he might 
 there do, after all this Providential preparation, we 
 could almost deem his life insured awhile, were it not 
 for the experienced verity which made Burke to ex 
 claim so mournfully, " How too often different from 
 rational conjecture is melancholy fact!" 
 
 In his short abode upon the Island of Cuba, there is 
 evidence of his benign influence both upon foreigners 
 and natives, to justify large expectations of usefulness 
 from his longer life. But an All-wise Providence, whose 
 methods, if not always intelligible, are ever right, de 
 termined otherwise. In order that this may be appa 
 rent, we take up again and follow the thread of per 
 sonal narrative and experience running through his 
 Journal and Letters until broken by death. An entry, 
 dated Dec. 6th, 1843, in the Spanish steamer, Villa- 
 nueva, bound from Batabano to Trinidad, reads as fol 
 lows : 
 
 I left Havana yesterday morning by the rail-road, a little be 
 fore eight, most heartily glad and thankful to escape at length 
 from that jealous city. We arrived at San Felipe, the pre 
 sent terminus of the road, at a quarter of ten o clock. The 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 305 
 
 rail-road diverges here to Guines, a place of considerable re 
 sort for invalids, and the branch to Batabano, it is expected, 
 will be finished in a few days. But this expected benefit was 
 no advantage to us passengers that were bound to the other 
 side of the island, and so we all had to hire our conveyances 
 for Batabano in the best way we could. After some time had 
 elapsed, I at length made a bargain with two white men, 
 brothers, Creoles of the island, to take myself and baggage to 
 the beach at Batabailo for six dollars, nearly treble what it 
 cost me to come on the rail-road to San Felipe. The distance 
 from San Felipe to the beach is four leagues or twelve miles 
 My baggage was mounted in different parcels on the backs of 
 four horses, myself mounted a fifth, and my two guides each 
 another, making in all a cavalcade of seven horses and three 
 horsemen. I trembled for the safety of the contents of my 
 inedicine-chest, when I saw it raised and jolting upon horse 
 back, but there was no remedy ; jolt it must, as well as every 
 thing else. We started at one o clock in the afternoon, and 
 arrived at the beach at half-past four. 
 
 The road was wild and rough, a good part of the way, but a 
 narrow horse-path. My horse, an ugly-looking, shaggy little 
 beast, equal to Rosinante herself, had a very easy, pleasant 
 pace, the gentle, regular rack of the Cuban horses. Never 
 was I in a country that equals this for extortions upon poor 
 travellers. I find on comparing notes with my fellow voyagers 
 that all, even the natives of the island, are subject to the same 
 impositions. Three rials sterling (fuertes), we paid at San 
 Felipe for the privilege of passing through a large estate by 
 which we shortened the road ; this was perhaps just and right. 
 At Batabailo, however, which is one league from the beach, 
 another two rials to the Captain del Partido for my passport ; 
 at the beach another two rials for the Real Hacienda, and one 
 dollar for the privilege of having my baggage pass over the 
 wharf on its way to the steamer ! 
 
 But I found that it was of no avail to reason or talk with the 
 
306 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Empleados, for the most intelligent of them could not give 
 the shadow of a just reason for so stupid and irrational a 
 regulation ; and the head-man had the effrontery after I had 
 paid him my dollar, to ask for a rial or two more to pay the 
 negroes for bringing along the baggage ! This quite exhausted 
 my stock of patience, which had already suffered such heavy 
 drafts, and I promptly told him that I would not pay him ni 
 un ochavo mas, not the quarter part of a cent more, and got into 
 my boat which was waiting for me. On seeing my decision, 
 and despairing of further successful sponging, he bade me a very 
 polite a dios, and went off. 
 
 The passengers are about forty cabin, and fifteen or twenty 
 forward-deck passengers. They are a coarse, rough, vocifer 
 ating set in general, though, for aught I know, there may be 
 some true gentlemen among them ; they are playing cards 
 continually, and for considerable sums of money, and their 
 loud contentious talking, rude, profane jests, and oaths, make 
 the boat a perfect hurly-burly of confusion and turmoil. 
 Smoking continually, in bed and out of it, day and night, is 
 their constant employment. 
 
 We left the anchorage at Batabano about midnight, and 
 this morning were in among small keys, and on banks of only 
 about nine feet depth of water, sometimes seeing the bottom 
 very clearly. We have the wind ahead, and this with a 
 miserable, weak engine, and a crazy old boat of some fifteen 
 years of age, makes our progress of a snail-paced slowness. 
 But through a gracious providence I journey safely on, and 
 thus it will be till my pilgrimage below is done. 
 
 " I ll go and come, nor fear to die, 
 Till from on high Thou call me home." 
 
 Trinidad de Cuba, Dec. 19tk, 1843. Tuesday evening. . 
 Here, by the blessing of Grod, I was permitted to arrive on 
 Friday morning the 8th instant. I am comfortably settled in 
 hired lodgings, and take my meals for the present at the house 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 307 
 
 of an American gentleman near by, to whom I came recom 
 mended. I find the climate delightful, and am praising God 
 that I have found so pleasant a resting-place. 
 
 Sabbath evening, Dec. 24th, Christmas Eve. A pleasant 
 Sabbath, spent almost entirely in the retirement of my own 
 rooms. Have enjoyed prayer, and reading my precious Bible. 
 Oh, what an unspeakable privilege it is to feel to know that 
 G-od is my friend, and to be able, at all times, to approach 
 his mercy seat, pleading the name and merits of Jesus, my 
 blessed Redeemer. Both mercy and judgment have I ex 
 perienced this year, which is about to close. I have suffered 
 much with my distressing disorder ; but, oh ! how greatly has 
 the goodness of the Lord abounded towards me. I have been 
 at length permitted to obtain my medical diploma to enjoy 
 much in the society of my dear relatives ; and now, brought 
 in safety through many perils to this delightful climate, where 
 my health is improving, and where, I hope, in due time, I 
 may be enabled to practise my profession. May I, oh Lord, 
 be prepared for all the events of the coming year, and be 
 enabled to commence it in thy fear and love, and with earnest 
 efforts to live to thy glory. 
 
 Sabbath evening, Dec. 31st, 1843. The last day of the 
 old year and the first of a new, are appropriate periods of 
 solemn reflection and a grateful acknowledgment of past 
 mercies and sparing goodness. u Hitherto hath the Lord 
 helped me ;" and I would joyfully praise him for his loving 
 kindness and tender mercy, and cheerfully commit to him the 
 disposal of all future scenes and events ; and oh, may his 
 grace be sufficient for me in every trial and emergency, to 
 which I may be called. 
 
 January 24^, 1 844. My health continues to improve. I 
 am surrounded with every comfort, and though without any 
 dear friend near me, I am in a state of happy peace and 
 equanimity of mind happy, unspeakably happy, in the pos 
 session and knowledge of that One Friend, who, above all 
 
308 MEMOKIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 others, well deserves the name of friend. I am permitted 
 often to hear from my dear friends at home by letters and 
 papers, and this greatly assuages the pain of separation from 
 them. I hope, by the blessing of God, that I shall, after a 
 time, work my way into practice in this city ; but I shall be 
 obliged, in about a month, to take a journey to Havana, there 
 to be examined and approved by the Protomedicato of that 
 city. I dread the undertaking, both on account of its trouble 
 and great expense, which will be about three hundred dollars ; 
 but the sooner it is over the better, as it must be accomplished 
 if I would practise freely. 
 
 In this connection there are letters to relatives in 
 the United States, which, omitting the particular re 
 membrances to friends, and other private matters, 
 supply important intermediate links to these journal 
 izing memorials. The following is from one to his 
 Sister, dated, 
 
 Trinidad de Cuba, Dec. 12th, 1843. 
 
 By the Cordelia, which sails to-morrow morning direct for 
 Boston, I am enabled, through the Lord s great goodness, to 
 announce to you my safe arrival at this pleasant, neat little 
 city, and the happy termination of all my perils, fatigues, and 
 trials, by sea and by land, in coming hitherward. The Lord is 
 good and gracious to me, both in temporal and spiritual things, 
 and, I trust, will make all work together for my best good. I 
 am pleasantly lodged in a room that I have hired for six 
 dollars a month, procured for me by my kind countryman, 
 Mr. Win. S. Lynn, to whom I had letters of introduction 
 from New York. My room is in the same street with Mr. 
 Lynn s house, and but a few doors distant ; and until I can 
 make an arrangement in regard to my meals, he has most, 
 hospitably invited me to take them at his house, which I am 
 very pleasantly doing, 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 309 
 
 The climate here is delightful, and every body unites in 
 the opinion that it is the healthiest spot on the Island of 
 Cuba, and probably in all the West Indies. My health has 
 improved greatly, and I have gained six pounds since I 
 arrived in Havana. 
 
 Trinidad de Cuba, Jan. ls, 1844, Monday- evening. 
 MOST DEARLY BELOVED BROTHER A very happy New 
 Year to you, and may you enjoy many, very many years of 
 happiness, even to a good old age spent in a career of eminent 
 usefulness and devotion to the service of our blessed Re 
 deemer. My mind is brimful of things to say to you facts, 
 ideas, circumstances, doings, and observations, crowding for 
 utterance, which it would require many hours and many sheets 
 fully to record. You ask me to tell you when I write, of my 
 spiritual health. This I will do, and gratefully record the 
 Lord s goodness towards me. Since I left New York, I have 
 enjoyed an almost uninterrupted and delightful measure of 
 happy, confiding trust in God, and a blessed calmness and 
 tranquillity in committing all my interests for time and eter 
 nity into his hands. I do not know that ever in any period 
 of my life, I have more fully felt the unspeakable blessedness 
 the solid, abiding comfort, of a hope in our dear Redeemer, 
 and the rich privileges which the humblest of his disciples may 
 enjoy, if they will but use them. I feel constrained to the 
 deepest pity for men around me, who seek their portion only 
 in this world, and particularly for poor invalids who are with 
 out those consolations and hopes of the Grospel, which, to me, 
 are so precious ; and I sometimes ask myself, What, oh ! what 
 should I do without them ? " Oh, that all these blind but 
 knew him, and would be advised by me." I had some sad, 
 perplexing, annoying, and most anxious days at Havana, but 
 I was enabled, with deep earnestness, to commit my way 
 unto the Lord ; and even now can I see that he was tenderly 
 making all things to work for my best good, even what seemed 
 
310 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 bitter and contrary in the endurance ; and what I know not 
 now, I shall know hereafter, of the wonderful workings of his 
 gracious Providence and mercy. It is true that he that ob- 
 serveth providences, shall have many wonderful providences 
 to observe. Our Lord is merciful and gracious ah ! in 
 finitely gracious above all that we can imagine or conceive, 
 blessed be his name. 
 
 " From evil secure and its dread, 
 
 1 rest if my Saviour be nigh ; 
 And songs his kind presence indeed, 
 
 Shall in the night season supply. 
 His smiles and his comforts abound, 
 
 His grace as the dew shall descend ; 
 And walls of salvation surround, 
 
 The soul he delights to defend." 
 
 Oh ! dear brother, alone as I am in this foreign land, with 
 wastes of ocean, and thousands of miles intervening between 
 me and all my dear earthly kindred and best friends, how 
 blessed, when I awake in the silent watches of the night, to 
 be enabled to lift my heart to God, and to feel that " A sove 
 reign protector I have, Unseen, yet forever at hand !" Trials 
 and discipline I have trials and discipline I expect to have, 
 as long as I remain in this world ; but I will bless the Lord 
 of the way for the gracious, sweet refreshment, which he pro- 
 videth for humble, weary pilgrims. May I ever thus be fed, 
 and be kept humble and happy, near my Divine Keeper. 
 
 And now, having spoken of the spiritual, I will come 
 down out of Beulah, and speak of the temporal. First of all, 
 my dearest brother, I thank thee from my inmost heart for 
 all the tender kindness, watchful care, and generous subsidies 
 which you have ever so abundantly imparted to me, and par 
 ticularly in my preparation for this voyage and absence. 
 May the Lord bless and reward thee. My health is greatly 
 improving, but I do not expect a sudden cure. It is one of 
 the finest climates in the world for asthma, and diseases of the 
 
OF NATHAJS1EL CHEEVER, M.D. 311 
 
 throat and lungs. Indeed, the climate is magnificent. Not 
 one entire cloudy day since I arrived. I have not known the 
 thermometer below 72. I told you in my last that I had 
 bought a young horse. He is perfectly kind and gentle, and 
 has a variety of very easy, pleasant paces. I have named him 
 " Benito." I ride as much as I can often before breakfast, 
 and sometimes in the afternoon, between five and six o clock, 
 and find it extremely beneficial to my health. I am trying, 
 if possible, to get a provisional licence from the Subdelegado 
 of the Havana Protomedicato, at this place, Dr. Gallo, to prac 
 tise my profession for a year or so, until I can see whether 
 I remain in the country. Grood-bye, dearest Hermano. 
 
 Trinidad de Cuba, Jan. IQth, 1844. 
 
 DEARLY BELOVED BROTHER. If I could I would express 
 the sweet pleasure and happiness, which the receipt of your 
 last precious budget of letters and papers has afforded me. 
 All arrived safe yesterday, by the weekly mail, from Havana. 
 Dear E s and Mother s letters are a sweet treat, and your long 
 letter and the subsequent one have done me good like a medi 
 cine. Do write me often such, for it is inexpressible the de 
 light that such letters afford to one situated as I am. In 
 reading those precious letters yesterday, my heart was wild and 
 turbulent with joy, and tears of gratitude came into my eyes 
 at finding the delightful news of the health and happiness of 
 you all, the safe return of my good friend Captain E., and the 
 various items of indescribable interest which they contained. 
 My only lack on such occasions is some dear one, mutually in 
 terested with myself, with whom to participate, and pour out 
 the exuberance of my delighted and elastic spirits. My vital 
 mental electricity needs a conductor to exhaust itself by ; 
 for at times, the charge is so excessive that I am ready to ex 
 plode with the very excitement of joyful emotion. My friends 
 may all be assured that I often think of them, and I give you 
 a carte blanche of remembrance to all who may kindly inquire 
 for me. 
 
312 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 There is a good deal of writing that I wish very much to do, 
 and studies and reading to accomplish ; but, perhaps, my good 
 intentions will never be fulfilled. Nevertheless, I will still 
 aim at their accomplishment ; I will aim high, and then if I 
 fall short of my mark, I shall still be nearer to it than if I had 
 fired low. I am never at a loss for the employment of my 
 time in a manner that may either increase the stores of my 
 memory, strengthen my understanding, or improve my heart. 
 The thing I now greatly desire is that some portion of my 
 time may be employed in a manner that shall swell my purse, 
 dilate its shrunken integuments, and fill it up soundly and fairly 
 with adipose tissue of my own elaboration the real unguento 
 de Mexico that magic ointment which, rightly used, doth 
 most wonderfully soothe and allay the chronic irritation caused 
 by a collapsed money-bag, the too near approximation of its 
 internal parietes. 
 
 My countrymen, of whom I spoke to you in my last letter, 
 as about hiring with me the house in which are my rooms, 
 have taken it, and we are now keeping bachelor s hall a mode 
 of living, which, as circumstances are, is the most comfort 
 able we could adopt in this hotel-less city. 
 
 There are three besides myself. We have an old Italian 
 for our cook, who says he was in Napoleon s grand army in 
 Egypt ; has lived in the United States, and understands how 
 to cook to suit American tastes. We get along very har 
 moniously together, and call our establishment " American 
 Hall." Mr. B,. says he wont allow it to be called Bachelor s 
 Hall, for he has a wife and two children, the only married man 
 of our number. We talk of being patriotic, and celebrating 
 Washington s birth-day with a roast turkey ! I have the 
 same rooms as before, a bed-room and a front-room, which I 
 will be so professional, if you please, as to call my " office." 
 I pay the same proportion of rent as before, eight dollars per 
 month, and am here " monarch of all I survey." I can 
 hardly realize that it is the month of January, when I 
 
M.D. 313 
 
 see roses in full bloom, and various other flowers, and ripo 
 figs, and other fruit, upon the trees. But we are within 
 the tropics, under a tropical sun, and a tropical vegetation is 
 all around us. I find too that one s clothing must be adapted 
 to the latitude of the tropics. I have not worn a thick coat 
 more than three or four days since I arrived at Trinidad. I 
 have had to cast aside my woollen mattress, and I now sleep 
 " a la Cubano," on a plain catre, or cot-bedstead, with a linen 
 sacking bottom. My horse " Benito," is a great comfort to 
 me, and I often wish you could be my companion in some of 
 my pleasant rides upon him, under the lovely sky of this 
 delightful climate. My expenses now, including " Benito V 7 
 keeping, will be from $35 to $40 a month. 
 
 Trinidad de Cuba, Feb. 5th, 1844. 
 
 DEARLY BELOVED BROTHER I am reading D Aubigne s 
 History of the Reformation with the deepest interest. What 
 a noble, glorious fellow Luther was ! Oh, that some such 
 might arise in these and other beautiful regions of the 
 earth, still cursed with the hateful darkness of Popery, which 
 he was so wonderfully instrumental in dispelling in other coun 
 tries. I sympathize with his spirit. " While I am musing 
 the fire burns ;" the fire in my bones of indomitable oppo 
 sition, everlasting hatred to the bigotry, superstition, tyranny, 
 and ignorance which he so nobly, so gloriously, and, blessed 
 be God, so successfully opposed. I have to set a watch on 
 the door of my lips, lest, in the heat of my spirit, and frank 
 ness of my heart, some unguarded expression may escape in 
 regard to government, men, and manners here, which might 
 cost me trouble. Oh, the liberty the dear, delightful 
 liberty which we enjoy in our beloved country ! We do not 
 prize it at home as we ought ; but when our citizens come to 
 countries like this, under Spanish, Papal laws, then, ah then, 
 they see the diiference even the irreligious and profane 
 between a land where true liberty, civil and religious, and 
 14 
 
MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 equal laws exist, and a land where they exist not. It vexes 
 and tries my very soul when I think of such inquisitorial, 
 anti-human, and anti-Christian laws ; and I feel sometimes as 
 though it would be a privilege, if called upon, to fight in order 
 to have them utterly repealed and scattered to the winds. 
 
 Making the most of it that you can, there is but little 
 society in Trinidad I mean such as I have been accus 
 tomed to ; and of Christian society, so far as I know, not 
 any. The social state here is somewhat as it was in 
 Malaga. But I will say this for Trinidad, and I am in justice 
 bound to say it, that in proportion to its size, the state of 
 morals here is far less corrupt than at Malaga. It is, indeed, 
 about the most quiet, orderly, neat little city that I was ever in. 
 Crime is of rare occurrence, and when found out is promptly 
 punished ; and, unlike Malaga, it is perfectly safe riding out 
 anywhere in the vicinity of the city, as I can testify from 
 numerous explorations on Benito, both alone and in com 
 pany. 
 
 But, ah ! I do yearn sometimes for a bosom friend one 
 who could fulfil Sallust s concise and elegant definition of true 
 friendship : " Idem velle atque nolle, ea demum firma amicitia 
 est." Without such a similarity of taste and feeling, how 
 can there be intimate friendship ? No person here approaches 
 nearer the centre of my affections than the very outermost 
 barrier of my heart. The middle barrier none have arrived 
 at, much less the inner. I feel sometimes, I confess, a little 
 low-spirited, but it does not last a great while. The frequent 
 letters of you all greatly cheer me ; and I fervently thank 
 God 1 have a blessed refuge in every sorrow that does, or 
 may befal me. With melting fervor can I sometimes most 
 earnestly say in Wesley s beautiful words : 
 
 Jesus, lover of my soul, 
 Let me to thy bosom fly. 
 
 But, ah ! I accomplish so little. Time is winging me away, 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 315 
 
 and what am I doing ? The most that I seem to have done 
 since I came to this island, has been to write letters ; and of 
 these, small and great, I have despatched to various persons 
 and papers twenty-six, and this will make the twenty-seventh. 
 But various schemes of writing and study are yet unaccom 
 plished, and perhaps ever will be ; yet I keep hoping, and 
 hoping, and hoping, and will continue to hope, though " hope 
 deferred maketh the heart sick." 
 
 Had I but perfect health, I think I would soon clear off 
 these old scores, and accomplish speedily plans that are now 
 but a dead letter. I have mcns sana, but am far yet from 
 having it with that most desirable and invaluable adjunct in 
 corpore sano. My cough is still very troublesome, but my 
 attacks of asthma less frequent and less violent than when in 
 the States. The whole mucous membrane of my throat and 
 lungs is exceedingly delicate and sensitive, which convinces 
 me that if I had remained at the north this winter, it might 
 have been, after that period, forever too late to experience any 
 benefit from a change of climate. I think the summer here 
 will be even better for me than the winter, for the northers 
 have affected me rather unfavorably, though, to a person 
 whose lungs are not delicate, they give a fine, dry, bracing, 
 and healthy atmosphere. 
 
 I pulled a tremendous back grinder from the jaw of one 
 of my comparieros at American Hall, on the 24th of January. 
 He was delighted with the success of the operation, and 
 praised my skill greatly, for it was a tooth that had caused 
 him a deal of suffering. He has been waiting for the gum to 
 get perfectly well, and on Monday, of this week, he pre 
 sented me with five dollars, and says he never paid money 
 more cheerfully. I have bought with this money a table 
 spoon and a tea-spoon for my own use at meals. It was a 
 sum exactly sufficient for the purpose ; and I have had the 
 date pf the month and year engraved on the back of the 
 spoons, January 24th, 1844, when I performed the first dental 
 
316 MEMOKIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 operation for which I ever received any compensation. My 
 initials I had put in front. The spoons were just the thing 
 that I needed. So you have the history of my first fee an 
 interesting event in the Diary of a young Physician. I must 
 now ask for a truce in my letter writing," for this is the 
 twelfth to your own dear self. 
 
 Trinidad de Cuba, Monday Evening, Feb. 13A, 1844. 
 
 MOST DEARLY BELOVED SISTER. As there is to be a 
 vessel cleared for Portland, to-morrow, I will commence this 
 evening a letter to the beloved "Duet" under "the Elm 
 Tree." I thank you for all your sweet, welcome letters, and 
 dear Mother, for her precious addition to your noble, long 
 epistle of Dec. 15th, 1843. I entreat you both to favor me 
 with such ones often, for what in regard to your dear selves 
 will not be of the deepest interest to your beloved self-exiled 
 brother, in this foreign land ? I often lay awake after re 
 tiring at night to my solitary cot, and in my pleasant musings 
 excogitate matter enough for the construction of two or three 
 epistles of the largest size. 
 
 I received the Address on President Marsh, last week, and 
 have already devoured, with eager interest, the whole of it. 
 Mr. Choate s eloquent New England address I have also read 
 with great admiration in the columns of the " Evangelist." 
 What a bombshell, that one innocent sentence of our fathers 
 finding at Geneva, " A church without a bishop, and a state 
 without a king," has proved ! I see you have all been nearly 
 frozen up at the north, and I am most thankful that I am not 
 there, but here, quietly basking under the fervent sun of this 
 lovely, tropical climate. It is indeed a most admirable and 
 delightful spot for invalids with pulmonary or, I might say, 
 with almost any complaint. To all I would most strongly re 
 commend a trial of its benignant virtues. Love unutterable to 
 dear Mother. May our gracious Lord be with, and bless us 
 all, and keep us as in the hollow of his hand. I feel daily the 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 317 
 
 blessedness of his protection, and the strong consolation of his 
 covenant love. And yet, I often sigh for the sweet, sympa 
 thizing society of congenial Christian friends, of those whose 
 countenances and conversation may stir the innermost depths 
 of my being ; for after all, letters, though a grateful solace, 
 are but a laborious, pains-taking, inadequate substitute, for 
 that swift, electric interchange of thought and feeling, which 
 can take place only face to face. 
 
 About the same period with these dates are the fol 
 lowing entries in the Private Journal. 
 
 Thursday Evening, Feb. 9th. I would gratefully record the 
 goodness of God in preserving me this day, from what might 
 otherwise have been a very severe accident, or even a fatal 
 one. In going slowly around a corner, during my ride this 
 afternoon, my horse slipped upon a smooth stone, and in an 
 instant fell entirely down, rolling a little to one side. I was 
 thrown off, but immediately regained my feet, with no other 
 injury than a slight bruise of my left ankle, which this evening 
 feels somewhat painful. How easily, but for a Divine Pro 
 vidence, might 1 have broken my leg, or been otherwise very 
 seriously injured. Oh, that I may be spared yet, for great 
 usefulness in this world, but above all, prepared for a happy 
 exchange of worlds, whenever I may be called. Thousands 
 of unseen dangers, we are doubtless every moment preserved 
 from, that without the restraint and superintendance of an 
 almighty hand, would continually work our destruction. 
 
 Havana, March 21th, 1844. I left Trinidad on the fifth, 
 and arrived here on the seventh. Have made as yet but little 
 progress in my medical matters, though I have done all I 
 can. 
 
 The delay and expense are grievous ; and how doubtful is 
 my life ! But we must act as though we expected to live, 
 although we may be taken from the world at any moment. 
 The vis vitee and the vis mortis seem to struggle hard together 
 
318 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 in my system, and I sometimes feel as though the latter 
 would soon conquer. The Lord prepare me for any event. 
 My trials are great. Oh, that I may be purified, though it be 
 as by fire. 
 
 There is a young gentleman staying at the house where I 
 now am, Hotel de San Carlos, who, it is refreshing to 
 my spirit to find, is a member of the Methodist Church in 
 Brooklyn, and a hopeful Christian. We have prayed, and 
 talked, and sung together some of the sweet songs of Zion ; 
 and this, I may say, is the first really Christian communion 
 and fellowship that I have enjoyed since I left New York. 
 He is an invalid, affected with chronic bronchitis ; we feel a 
 sympathy for each other, and are much together. 
 
 Havana, April 16th, 1844. 
 
 MOST DEAR AND HONORED MOTHER. You will have 
 learned, I trust, long ere this reaches you, by my long letter 
 to dear George, of my arrival at this city, and the object of 
 my visit at this time. Thanks be unto God, I would devoutly 
 say, that object is this day happily accomplished; I have 
 undergone three rigid examinations, all in Spanish, on as many 
 different days ; this morning I had the final one, and have this 
 day been approved by the Protomedicato of the Royal Uni 
 versity of Havana ! I feel now in better spirits to write my 
 dear friends, than I have for a long time, for a load is removed 
 from my mind that has been pressing upon it with weary 
 weight for a long, long season. 
 
 Notwithstanding the delays, harassments, anxieties, and 
 trials, of various kinds, that I have experienced since I have 
 been here, my health has improved very much. It is six 
 weeks to-morrow since I arrived, and I have had no regular, 
 fresh attack of asthma ; my cough has been a part of the time 
 very trying, but is now somewhat better, and my chest feels 
 much stronger than it did a month since. 
 
 Dear E. inquires how I spend my Sabbaths ; I generally 
 spend them in the retirement of my own room, reading my 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 319 
 
 precious Bible, and other good books, and praying to that 
 blessed God and Saviour, who is equally near to all that love 
 Him, in all parts of His dominions. My Sabbaths are some 
 times interrupted, and can hardly be otherwise in this Sab 
 bath-profaning country ; but I endeavor to get along in the 
 best way I can, in the circumstances in which I am placed, 
 and I am often blessed with sweet and precious seasons. 
 
 I have heard one very good sermon since I arrived here, 
 preached on board the " Potomac" by the chaplain, and this 
 is the only original sermon that I have heard since I left New 
 York. I can, indeed, most feelingly say with David some 
 times, that u My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the 
 courts of the Lord ; my heart and my flesh crieth out for the 
 living God." " When shall I come, and appear before God" 
 in his earthly courts in a Christian Protestant land ? Ah ! 
 when ! when ! I entreat you both to write me often Letters 
 from my dear friends in this far land are a rich consolation, 
 and they assuage greatly the pains of separation. Ever your 
 dutiful and affectionate son. 
 
 The tale of his experience in the Havana Medical 
 University was sent soon after to Dr. Parker, and by 
 him published in the Boston Medical and Surgical 
 Journal of August 21st, 1844, under the title of 
 
 Havana, April 25tk, 1844. 
 
 DEAR SIR. Thinking that it may be of some interest to 
 you to know the course of the Medical Examination, to which 
 foreign Physicians are subjected, before they can legally 
 practise on this island ; I have thought that I would give you 
 the particulars of the late formalities and examinations through 
 which 1 have passed at the Royal University of this city. 
 
 In the first place, I would say, that in commencing this 
 undertaking, the candidate should provide himself with an 
 
320 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 almost inexhaustible stock of PATIENCE ; for the annoyances, 
 formalities, and vexatious delays, which he will meet, will 
 very soon drain anything like a moderate supply of that most 
 necessary and useful attribute of mind. I arrived here from 
 Trinidad on the 7th of March, and it was not until the 12th 
 of April, that with all my efforts I could get a day named for 
 my examination. It is true that the occurrence of the Semana 
 Santa, or Holy Week, and a number of other holydays, oc 
 casioned a loss of time that, perhaps, might not have other 
 wise taken place. But holydays, or no holydays, there will be 
 detention and constant delay ; " poco a poco, manana, manana, 
 little by little, to-morrow, and to-morrow," is, I may say, the un 
 varying course of Spanish tribunals. Many a valuable to-mor 
 row and " day after to-morrow" comes and goes, and t& your 
 grief and cost do you find that your business is no nearer to a 
 conclusion than before, but remains in statu quo. 
 
 The first thing, if the individual has not already 
 done it, is to take out a " carta de domicilio," giving him 
 authority to remain in the island, and establish himself where 
 he may choose in the practice of his profession. This requires 
 about three days, and costs, if one understands the language, 
 and can manage the matter for himself, four dollars and a half; 
 if he is obliged to hire another to do it for him, it will cost him 
 a couple more. Next, he must make a petition, in due form, 
 to the President of the Subinspection of Studies, who is the 
 Captain General himself, praying that his Excellency will 
 deign to give the necessary order, to the end that he may be 
 legally qualified for the exercise of his profession upon this 
 island, This petition must be handed to the Secretary of the 
 Subinspector of Studies, and be laid before the Junta, or 
 Medical Council, before it can be acted upon. 
 
 This grave body meets but once a week, on Wednesday 
 evening, and I suppose no earthly consideration would make 
 them meet any oftener. The carta de domicilio and the 
 diploma of the candidate must be also laid before the Junta, 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 321 
 
 the latter being previously certified by the American Consul, 
 which costs two dollars. The Junta meet, and the papers 
 being laid before them in due form, they order that the candi 
 date proceed to take the necessary steps for the attainment of 
 his object. After, perhaps, a couple of weeks, and sometimes 
 double and treble that number, the candidate is ordered to 
 prove his identity in the office of the Secretary of the Subin- 
 spection of Studies. That is, to prove by three good witnesses, 
 that he is the individual spoken of in the diploma, and no 
 other ; to prove, as a gentleman who went as witness with me, 
 facetiously remarked, " que usted es usted," that you are you. 
 Your witnesses must be natives of your own country, American 
 citizens, known and established in this city, and must have 
 been acquainted with you at least for some considerable time. 
 They are examined separately, and a clerk formally takes 
 down the deposition of each one in writing. 
 
 After all the ceremony is finished, the Secretary of the Sub- 
 inspection of Studies writes an official letter to the Rector of 
 the University, stating that having gone through all the neces 
 sary formalities in his office, he now sends you to undergo the 
 requisite examinations at the Royal University. And here be 
 gins somewhat deeply " la funcion del dinero," the play of the 
 money, which is anything but amusing to the person that has 
 it to pay. The derechos, or fees, at this office are twenty 
 dollars. I paid my money, took the official despatch, and re 
 paired immediately to the University, where I delivered it in 
 the Secretary s office, and by insisting somewhat, I at last ob 
 tained the appointment of the next day, the 13th of April, at 
 one o clock, for my first examination. The Rector appoints 
 three examiners from among the professors of the University, 
 and the Subinspection of Studies sends one as a delegate from 
 their body. 
 
 On the day of the first examination, previous to that act, I 
 had to make the following heavy deposits, viz, one hundred 
 and twenty-five dollars paid into the Treasury of the 
 
322 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 University, and one hundred and twenty-five dollars 
 to be paid into the hands of the Beadle, to be dis 
 tributed by him among the examiners, for both of which- 
 sums receipts were given me, which I had to. deliver to the 
 Secretary before entering the hall of examination. At last 
 the hour arrived, and my cane being duly taken from me at 
 the door by one of the porters, and duly placed in the corner 
 with the other gold-headed, wise-looking, doctorial canes, I 
 was ushered by the Beadle into the august presence of my 
 dignified examiners. 
 
 The Beadle is an exceedingly important and busy person 
 age on these occasions ; he is master of ceremonies, ushers 
 you in and out, and sits by your side during the whole of the 
 examination, and is in fact a sort of body-guard, or constable, 
 to see that you do not infringe on any of those sacred rules of 
 etiquette and formality, in the observance of which the 
 Spaniards have ever been so excessively punctilious. None 
 but a black dress, I was duly informed, beforehand, by the il 
 lustrious Beadle, would be considered de. ctequeta ; so I took 
 care to go diplomatically arrayed, vestido de negro, from head 
 to foot. 
 
 The room for examination is a large and very stately one, 
 hung with crimson, and at the end opposite the door of en 
 trance, is the stage or pulpit for the Rector, over which hangs 
 a portrait of the young Queen of Spain. A row of permanent 
 arm-chairs, for the examiners, extends from each side of the 
 pulpit towards the door, and at the end of these, between the 
 two rows, is a table and seat covered with red cloth, and upon 
 this the poor wight of a candidate is placed, as a fair target to 
 be shot at from both sides, without even a back or a side to 
 his seat, or a single object to conceal his bashfulness or 
 mortification, should some unlucky missile but too sorely 
 wound him. 
 
 I had been seated but a few moments when the Rev. Rector, 
 attired in full canonicals, black surplice and gown, lace-cuffs, 
 
. OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 323 
 
 and collar, entered and took his chair of state. My watchful 
 guardian, the Beadle, ordered me to rise as he passed, and on 
 my attempting, without further honors, to sit down again, he 
 told me not to sit down until his lordship, sa usia, was seated. 
 "When the Very Reverend Senior was comfortably composed 
 in his seat, the Dean of the Faculty, Dr. C. V,, rang a little 
 bell and called for " los expedientes," that is, the different 
 papers showing that I had duly taken all the legal steps and 
 formalities conforme d lo despuerto, to arrive at the surely 
 not enviable position I was then occupying. Probably the 
 most important of these expedients were the receipts, showing 
 that the two hundred and fifty dollars were safe in the coffers 
 of the University, and in the important hands of the punc 
 tilious Beadle. 
 
 I confess that at the first examination all this formality, 
 dignity, ceremony and etiquette, quite surprised and confound 
 ed me. Unlike, also, our strictly private examinations, these 
 are free to the public, and a number of the Students of the 
 University were present, the door of the hall being wide open. 
 The Beadle, too, lost no occasion of scrupulously demonstrat 
 ing the importance of his functions ; in the course of the ex 
 amination, noticing that I used, in replying to the professors, 
 the word usted, you, the usual very respectful mode of ad 
 dress among Spaniards, he whispered to me, in a low voice, 
 and told me that I must there use the word usia, your honor, 
 your lordship. I felt at that moment little inclined to use 
 compliments with any body. The noise, too, from the street, 
 through the open door, was sometimes almost deafening, and 
 I was seated at such a formal distance from my examiners, that 
 several times I could not hear their questions at all. However 
 the hour terminated, as all hours will, but to me it was an ex 
 cessively long and disagreeable one. It tends, also, not a 
 little to increase your discomfort, to know that the hundred 
 and twenty-five dollars, paid to the examiners will be entirely 
 lost in case they reject you ; for if they give you another trial 
 
324 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 some months after, which they sometimes do, their fee has to 
 be paid over again, in full amount, as anything less than that 
 sum is not considered a compensation for the privilege of 
 being screwed ! 
 
 The matters touched upon in the examination were of 
 much the same nature as at our colleges, but they were dis 
 cussed with much more length and minuteness. They ex 
 amine on everything pertaining to medicine and surgery 
 except chemistry anatomy and physiology, theory and prac 
 tice of medicine, clinical medicine and surgery, materia 
 medica, surgical diseases and operations, obstetrics, and all 
 matters which are various that come under the head of 
 medical jurisprudence. Dr. C. V. is the professor of medi 
 cal jurisprudence, and one of the most accomplished and 
 intelligent professors of the University. I would cheer 
 fully add,- too, that he was decidedly the most affable, 
 fair, and considerate of my examiners, and this has generally 
 been the experience of all the candidates when he has been 
 one of the board. A kind look, and a candid, assuring man 
 ner, in the professor examining, has a wonderful effect to 
 soothe and animate the timid, agitated pupil. This pleasant 
 manner Dr. C. V. most eminently possesses, which cannot 
 be said by any means of all the rest. 
 
 The next trial was appointed for the day but one after, 
 Monday, the 15th instant, at half past four o clock, P. M., 
 at the Hospital de San Juan de Dios. At the appointed hour 
 I met the professors, and after examining the medical case 
 which they gave me, we all adjourned to the University, and I 
 there passed another examen of nearly an hour. The diag 
 nosis of the case which they gave me was easy, for it was a 
 young man covered from head to foot with the small pox, 
 some of the pustules being now in the drying stage. They 
 examined me minutely on the nature and treatment of this 
 disease, and on contagion and infection in general, and took 
 another ramble over all the branches of medicine and surgery. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 325 
 
 The third and last examination was appointed for the fol 
 lowing morning at seven o clock, to meet the professors again 
 at St. John s Hospital, and be given a surgical case to ex 
 amine and be examined upon ; and also, should there be a 
 recent subject, to perform some operations upon the dead 
 body. There was no cadaver that morning, which circum 
 stance I did not at all regret. They showed me a boy with 
 congenital hare-lip, and a case of fracture of the patella ; and 
 after examining these, and walking around the Hospital, we 
 went again to the University, where I had a minute exami 
 nation of thirty-five minutes upon the cases I had seen ; and 
 upon a variety of other subjects besides. In the second and 
 third examinations, having recovered my confidence, and be 
 come somewhat accustomed to their formal mode of pro 
 cedure, I succeeded much better than in the first. 
 
 The last examination being concluded, I was ushered out 
 by Monsieur le Beadle, the door was shut, and the Pro 
 fessors went into conclave. In about three minutes the 
 Beadle came out, and informed me that I was approved 
 " usted esta aprobado" which were indeed cheering words 
 after all the harassing formalities and delays, and the ordeal 
 of three rigid examinations through which I had passed. At 
 the conclusion, I was required to take an oath of fidelity to 
 the Queen of Spain, and obedience to the Spanish laws while 
 I remain upon the island. This was read to me by the Dean 
 of the Faculty, Dr. C. V., standing upon the stage ; and here 
 again el Senor Beadle, untiring in his zeal for forms, motioned 
 me to fall upon my knees while the oath was being read, but 
 the worthy Dean, with great consideration, interrupted the 
 important official, and told me it was not necessary. 
 
 On receiving the diploma or titulo which they give, you 
 have to pay another twenty dollars into the Treasury of the 
 University, making, with the certification of your diploma, 
 two hundred and ninety-two dollars. In the course of the 
 proceedings, you will have to use two or three sheets of 
 
326 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 stamped paper, at half a dollar a sheet ; and you will find, 
 also, that notwithstanding the enormous sums you have paid 
 to the high functionaries, the lazy porters at the door will be 
 most vexatiously teazing you for a fee " alguna cosa para 
 refrescar." Another dollar to them, together with the " Let 
 ter of Domiciliation," will make the whole expenses amount 
 to very near three hundred dollars. Understanding the 
 Spanish language, I did not have to employ an interpreter. 
 If I had been obliged to do so, it would have been an ad 
 ditional expense of fifty dollars, as that is what an American 
 physician now practising here informed me he had to pay. 
 
 A few years since the examinations were a mere form, and 
 almost dispensed with, the payment of five hundred dollars 
 being by far the most important and essential formality. On 
 this old regime I have been informed that numbers of persons 
 quite unqualified bought licenses apothecaries, barber-sur 
 geons, etc. About two years since, the fees were reduced to 
 their present rates, and the examinations commenced in good 
 earnest ; and in the month of March just passed, the new 
 regulations concerning physicians and surgeons, and all mat 
 ters relating to them, have been published in a pamphlet form, 
 of which every physician and surgeon is required to have a copy. 
 
 Perhaps it would be interesting to you to know its title, 
 and one or two of its important articles. It is called, u Reg- 
 lamento de Medicina y Cirujia, Formado por la Subinspecion 
 de Estudios de las Islas de Cuba y Puerto Rico, y aprobado 
 por su Magestad en Real orden de tres de Enero de 1844." 
 Chapter IV., art. 14, says: " No persons can exercise in the 
 Islands of Cuba and Puerto Rico, the profession of Medicine 
 and Surgery, nor the branches of Dentist, Bleeder, and Mid 
 wife, without the corresponding title given to them by the 
 competent authority." Article 15 : " Those who, without a 
 legal title, shall exercise any branch of the healing art, or 
 shall exceed the faculties which their title concedes to them, 
 shall be fined, the competent summary information having 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 327 
 
 been previously given by the local judge, in the sum of one 
 hundred dollars for the first offence, and in default of pay 
 ment, one month s imprisonment ; and for the second offence, 
 two hundred dollars, or two months imprisonment ; and for 
 the third offence, three hundred dollars, or three months im 
 prisonment ; with the right, besides, in either of the three 
 cases, in the event of any disastrous result from the illegal 
 practice, to prosecute according to law, for the purpose of 
 condign punishment." 
 
 Article 17 says : " In the same manner, foreign physicians 
 must present to the Subinspection of Studies, their respective 
 titles, legalized in due form, and prove, also, the identity of 
 their persons ; but this tribunal can in no case license them 
 to practise, except there take place, before the Board of the 
 respective Faculty, the proof examinations and practical ex 
 ercises prescribed in the one hundredth article of the General 
 Plan of Studies, and the deposit which is spoken of in the 
 hundred and twenty-third article of the Regulations of the 
 University." 
 
 So you see that quacks have no chance of success here ; 
 and the door is narrow, and the way difficult and expensive 
 for even regular practitioners of any nation whatever. 
 
 I close with something of the same advice as that with 
 which I commenced, to any professional brother about to 
 undertake this arduous enterprise : Go doubly armed with 
 patience and money, for both one and the other will meet 
 with heavy drafts ; and go well prepared for the examination, 
 for a rigid and severe one you may be sure of receiving. 
 
 In this connection, for the information of invalids 
 resorting to the West Indies, we give the following 
 extract from his published correspondence in the 
 " New York Commercial Advertiser," commenting 
 upon the climates of Trinidad and Havana : 
 
 From all that I can learn, gleaned from various authentic 
 
328 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 sources and actual observation, Trinidad is by far the health 
 iest place on this island, and one of the healthiest in the world. 
 Its local situation is admirable, for its healthiness as well as its 
 picturesque beauty. It is built on a declivity at the base of a 
 range of mountains, so that though the rain may fall in tor 
 rents, as it does sometimes in the rainy season, not a bucket 
 ful remains in the streets to become stagnant in the sun, but 
 all runs off toward the sea upon the savannas, where the sandy 
 and thirsty earth soon drinks it all up. The streets are very 
 well paved, and no dirt is allowed to be thrown in them ; but 
 it is all carefully removed, each family being obliged to send 
 away its own slops out of the city, as they accumulate in ves 
 sels for the purpose. 
 
 The city is supplied with pure, excellent water by a 
 river that runs near it from the mountains ; it is dipped 
 up in earthen botigas, or jars, and distributed to the 
 different families from the backs of mules and horses. Many 
 of the houses have also algibes, or cisterns, which get well 
 filled during the rainy months, and this supply lasts for a long 
 time, being chiefly used for culinary purposes. The air is of 
 most remarkable dryness and transparent purity, and its tem 
 perature truly delightful to those who are obliged to flee from 
 the rigors of your Northern Winters. The Winter range of 
 the thermometer is from 70 to 80 degrees. I have not known it 
 since my arrival December 8th, 1843 to be lower at any 
 time than 71 or 72 degrees, even during the prevalence of a 
 Norther which is the coldest wind ever experienced here. 
 But a Trinidad Norther is very different from a Havana 
 Norther. At the latter place they drive fiercely upon the 
 unprotected city, charged with cold and salt vapor from the 
 open Atlantic ; here we are very much sheltered from their 
 violence by the mountains of Trinidad, and they come dry and 
 bracing, their moisture being absorbed by the arid tracts of 
 country over which they have passed. 
 
 It is not seldom that vessels come here with their crews 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 329 
 
 sick with yellow fever, from St. Jago de Cuba and Kingston, 
 Jamaica, and if deaths take place on board, as they often do, 
 some are ready to attribute them to the climate here whereas 
 they are but the development and consummation of disease 
 contracted in other ports. But it is very seldom that people 
 sicken and die with the yellow fever, either in this city itself, 
 or its little port, Casilda ; and even in the rainy season, dur 
 ing the hot, tropical summer, there are but few cases, and 
 they generally yield to prompt, judicious treatment. 
 
 The climate on account of its great dryness and equability 
 of temperature, is particularly favorable for complaints of the 
 throat and chest, chronic asthma, and morbid states of the 
 mucous membrane. For asthma, all assure me that it is one 
 of the best climates in the world. Living here is somewhat 
 expensive, but much cheaper than at Havana. 
 
 There is no doubt that should some well-qualified person, of 
 energy and enterprise, establish a good house here for the ac 
 commodation of invalids, and make it permanent, and the fine 
 qualities of this lovely climate be made fully known, many would 
 come hither every winter, and receive far more benefit than is 
 derived from a residence in various other places, to which it is 
 more customary to resort. 
 
 The invalids have now (April 20th) nearly all gone from 
 Havana and vicinity, and the few that are left will soon 
 depart in the steamer Alabama for New Orleans, and in 
 other packets for the north. Many of them commit a fatal 
 mistake by leaving here so early for the cold winds, cloudy 
 skies, and rainy atmosphere that are often to be met with 
 even till the month of June, in any part of the Northern and 
 Middle States, not to say in the South itself. A summer 
 residence in a warm climate, would, in many instances, have 
 a more decidedly beneficial effect than only a winter one. A 
 winter, the ensuing summer, and then another winter, ought, 
 in many cases, to be passed before a return to our northern 
 climate. A change takes place in the human system in a 
 
330 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 year and a half, while it is experiencing the different annual 
 seasons of a tropical climate, which cannot be effected by 
 only a few months of mild air during the winter. But Home, 
 and Friends, and dear familiar faces, have, I .too well know, 
 an attraction that it is hard, very hard, to resist, even when 
 the common instinct of self-preservation the love of life 
 itself pulls strongly in the opposite direction. 
 
 The infamous traffic in slaves is still carried on upon this 
 island to a lamentable extent. It is only eight or ten days 
 since a small slave schooner crossed the mouth of this harbor, 
 and was seen plainly from the port. She went only a few 
 miles to windward, and there landed her human cargo of one 
 hundred and ten negro slaves ; and this vessel, I have under 
 stood, had only a crew of about eight men ! Two rakish- 
 looking vessels are now lying in port, which only a few weeks 
 since returned from Africa with the same kind of cargo. 
 One of them, which designed to carry many more, was chased 
 off the coast by an English man-of-war, and was obliged to 
 leave with only fifty-four. 
 
 It would be a new thing under the sun to see an American 
 squadron engaged heart and hand in exterminating the slave- 
 trade. Would that we might behold such an agreeable spec 
 tacle ; for, as things are now permitted to go on in this busi 
 ness, to the disgrace of nations calling themselves civilized 
 and Christian, most truly may it be said, 
 
 Man s inhumanity to man 
 Makes countless thousands mourn. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 331 
 
 CIIAPTEE XV. 
 
 HOPES RAISED FRUSTRATED AND AT LENGTH TERMI 
 NATED IN DEATH ON HIS RETURN VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 
 
 He lives, who dies bequeathing works which tell 
 
 That he has been ; who so fulfils his race, 
 That though no dazzling deeds his praises swell, 
 
 He yet may find a holy resting-place 
 In the FOND HEART S REMEMBRANCE, there to trace 
 
 The record of a soul renewed by grace : 
 He who thus lives, when Death s dim shadows lower, 
 
 Shall win eternal life in that transporting hour. 
 
 ANON. 
 
 THROUGH a perseverance and force of character in 
 surmounting difficulties that gave promise of large 
 results in time to come, an honorable professional 
 standing is now fairly won on foreign ground, and 
 amidst jealous competitors. The American friends 
 of the young Physician were fondly hoping that a 
 successful career of professional usefulness was open 
 ing to him, which a gracious Providence would allow 
 him to pursue. We have seen how his severe bodily 
 affliction had proved the wholesome soil of virtue, 
 
 " Where goodness, honor, sweet humanity, 
 Calm fortitude, take root, and strongly flourish." 
 
 We thought they were to nourish awhile below, 
 before transplanting to the paradise of God. But to 
 
332 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Infinite "Wisdom that never errs, it seemed otherwise, 
 as the present chapter will reveal. 
 
 His safe return from Havana, duly authorized and 
 approved, with his hard-earned and dear-bought 
 medical honors, is thus announced in a letter to his 
 Brother, dated, Trinidad de Cuba, May 6th, 1844 : 
 
 I am, by God s blessing, permitted to announce to you my 
 safe arrival at this place on last Thursday evening. I am 
 comfortably settled at my old quarters in Calle de la Gracia. 
 I feel depressed and discouraged sometimes, I can assure you ; 
 and I can say with the deepest feeling, when I review the long 
 years of suffering with this dreadful infirmity, the separation 
 from friends, the trials, and the abnegations, through which 
 I have passed, and still suifer, " I am the man that hath seen 
 affliction." 
 
 In my day dreams, I sometimes see vistas of re 
 putation, honor, and wealth, opening up before me, but 
 perhaps, I shall never be permitted to realize them. The 
 will of the Lord be done, whatever it may be. I trust, yea, I 
 feel assured that I have an interest in his pardoning love, and 
 that let what may befall me in time, all, all is well for eternity. 
 Oh ! blessed, sustaining hope ! What should I be, and 
 what should I do without that ! If my worldly dreams were 
 all realized, and I had no cheering hope of heaven, how 
 miserable a man ! 
 
 " Were the whole sea one chrysolite, 
 
 This earth a golden ball, 
 And diamonds all the stars of night, 
 This hope were worth them all." 
 
 Under date of May 12th, he writes in his Journal : 
 
 My license has been duly presented both to the Subdelegado 
 Di Gallo, and to the Governor ; and I am now fully author 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 333 
 
 ized to practise my profession. Oh, that God may deign to 
 bless me in its exercise here, and make me useful. I feel 
 " ready to halt," when my animal spirits sink so low as 
 they have done at times. Since my return, I have ex 
 perienced also a good many trials and vexations to harass 
 and annoy me, besides the great ones which I am constantly 
 called to endure of ill-health, and absence from all I love 
 best. But the blessed consolations of the word of God, 
 and a happy spirit of prayer do not fail me. 0, what should 
 I do without that unspeakable privilege ! It is more precious 
 to me than thousands of gold and silver. I would not exchange 
 it for all the wealth, without the exercise of that gift, of the 
 richest man living. 
 
 Were I possessor of the earth, 
 
 And called the stars my own, 
 Without ihy % graces and thyself, 
 
 I were a wretch undone. 
 
 Trinidad de Cuba, June 12th, 1844. 
 
 MOST DEARLY BELOVED SISTER. I commence this after 
 noon what I intend shall be a sort of tete-a-tete conversation 
 with my dear Sister, and beloved Mother, whose birth-day I 
 recollect was yesterday. My mind is continually full of 
 " thoughts that breathe, and words that burn" towards you, 
 but ah ! how tardy and dull seems the pen, as a mode of 
 transmitting them, compared with the sweet, precious, mutual 
 reciprocity of personal conversation, the giving and receiving 
 of those sparks of mental electricity, which do so delightfully 
 vivify and ventilate the atmosphere of our being, when friend 
 meets friend in the dear intercourse of domestic life. But 
 this privilege we cannot now have, much as we do desire it, and 
 we must make the most of the only substitute that remains, 
 that of epistolary communications. 
 
 I must now answer some of your inquiries, and refer to the 
 topics touched upon in your most welcome letters. As to 
 
334 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 slavery I hate to touch upon it, and to uncover the pit of 
 abominations which that system of oppression always incloses 
 within its bounds, wherever it exists. On the estates, par 
 ticularly the sugar estates of this island, it is doubtless 
 vastly more rigorous and severe than in the United States, ex 
 cept in a few instances. It would now have to be a very large 
 salary that would tempt me to live permanently on one of the 
 sugar plantations of this island. I spent a day last winter at 
 Magua, one of the rich Dr. Cantero s finest estates, about six 
 miles from Trinidad. It was the grinding season, and I saw 
 much that was new and interesting to me in the mode of 
 making the sugar and molasses. There are three hundred 
 and eighty negroes on that estate, all from the coast of Africa ; 
 this is the case on a great many estates, the supply being kept 
 up by reinforcements, brought from time to time by the in 
 famous, piratical slave vessels. When I came from Havana 
 the last time, there came also in the cars and steamer, as far 
 as Cienfuegos, about seventy Bozal negroes, as they are called ; 
 and I was told by a Spaniard on board that it had been only 
 about eight days since they were landed from Africa, near 
 Havana. They were of all ages and sexes, could not of course 
 speak a word of Spanish, and a more wretched, degraded, 
 miserable looking set of beings I never saw in my life. Oh ! 
 how feelingly did I think of Cowper s pathetic little piece on 
 the horrors of the Slave-trade 
 
 " Forced from home and all its pleasures, 
 
 Afric s coast I left forlorn, 
 To increase a stranger s treasures, 
 O er the raging billows borne." 
 
 In the cities, as far as I have seen and heard, the negroes 
 are treated very well, and there are a great many free ones. 
 There is a public officer in every city, called Sindico, whose 
 duty it is to protect the slaves against the undue insolence of 
 their masters, a sort of day s-maii betwixt the two. The 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 335 
 
 slaves have the liberty of changing their masters in the city, 
 whenever there is any just cause of complaint ; and whenever 
 they amass money enough to buy themselves, and wish to do 
 so, the master is obliged to give them their liberty, at a price 
 just about equivalent to their market-value. Here in Trini 
 dad, the colored people, both free and slaves, seem to be an 
 exceeding merry, cheerful, contented set. The whole popu 
 lation of Trinidad is about 15,000, and I suppose that at least 
 half, or probably as many as 8,000, are blacks and mulattoes. 
 The shades of color, I can assure you, are wonderfully 
 numerous ; complexions of all hues, from the deepest ebony 
 black to the least possible trace of negro-blood, may be seen 
 in the faces of those you meet daily in this city. 
 
 It is very warm and has been all this month, but the heat 
 as yet agrees with me well. I wish I could say my cough 
 had left me ; but it is still very bad, though better, perhaps, 
 than when 1 left for Havana. My kindest love to our dear 
 relatives at old York, when you write them. Unspeakable 
 love to dear Mother, and thanks for her sweet addition to your 
 letters. 
 
 The receipt at this time of a box of books from the 
 American Tract Society, and a Certificate of Life 
 Membership, induced the following letter to the be 
 nevolent lady of TIallowell by whose donation it was 
 effected : 
 
 Trinidad de Cuba, July 1st, 1844. 
 
 MY DEAR MRS. BOND I return to you my most sincere 
 thanks for the honor you have conferred upon me, in consti 
 tuting me a life member of the American Tract Society, and 
 for the receipt of the " Evangelical Family Library," as the 
 consequence of your liberal donation. The books arrived at 
 this port in the bark " Franklin," Captain Gibbs, on the 
 
336 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 13th of last month ; but, as they had to pass through the 
 Custom House, and be viewed by the public Censor, I did 
 not receive them into my possession until the 20th ult. 
 Their examination by the Censor was truly quite a farce, for 
 I learn that neither he nor one of his clerks understands a word 
 of English ! But this was all the better for me, since, if 
 they had understood the titles and contents of the books, they 
 would not, perhaps, have been admitted. " Nevin s Thoughts 
 on Popery," they might have feared would be a firebrand, 
 though in a foreign language. They are all exceedingly valu 
 able volumes, and though I have read a goodly number of 
 them, I am delighted now to own them, and have them 
 always by me for re-perusal, and to lend them, should I have 
 the opportunity, in this dark and unevangelized portion of the 
 world. 
 
 Of true, heartfelt religion in this island, I fear there is 
 very little. The Catholic religion itself is quite disregarded, 
 and the people do not live up even to the scanty light afforded 
 by that dark system, which is, indeed, faint and nickering. 
 The women are superstitious, the men little better than Turks 
 or Infidels, as to any religion, and the moral and religious 
 education of the children is utterly abandoned among all 
 classes. The negro and mulatto children, and those of the 
 poorer orders of the white population, and I may include 
 their parents also, can certainly be but little better off as to 
 knowledge of the Gospel, than the Heathen themselves. 
 
 I often think of the missionaries, and the trials which they 
 must have to endure from the obtuseness and want of any 
 moral sense, which they find in various parts of the Heathen 
 world. When I see the little naked children playing about 
 the streets and houses, black and white, and all conceivable 
 shades between those two colors, of both sexes and all ages, 
 up to six, eight, or ten years, and when I witness the exceed 
 ing ignorance, degradation, and wickedness of their parents, 
 and the generally abandoned and sunken state of all 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVBE, M.D. 337 
 
 classes upon this island, I am compelled, most painfully, to 
 feel that gross darkness covers the people, and my only relief 
 is to pray that God may soon send the penetrating light of 
 his blessed Gospel to remove it. 
 
 I suffer much from the deprivation of religious society and 
 social privileges ; but God is unspeakably good to me ; he 
 shines upon me with the light of his countenance ; makes 
 prayer an unspeakable blessing ; and erects for me, as it 
 were, " a little sanctuary" in the midst of a spiritual wilderness. 
 My kindest love to Mr. Bond, and ever believe me to be, 
 most sincerely, and with much esteem, your friend and 
 younger brother in Christ. 
 
 There commences about this time in the Journal, a 
 series of entries full of painful interest to his friends, 
 respecting both his own practice and the multiplying 
 indications of accelerating fatal disease in his own 
 person. But he still hoped against hope fulfilled all 
 the calls of his profession, and heroically held up to 
 the last. On the 29th of June, he says : 
 
 I have had several patients, or cases, since my last date, 
 and now have a negro at Casilda, belonging to Lord and 
 Rankin, whom I am attending every day. His left leg was 
 ripped up six days since by a ferocious boar, making a dread 
 ful wound, some five or six inches in length. 
 
 August 5th, Monday afternoon. For a week past I have 
 been very unwell, not with asthma, but with great debility, 
 irritation of my lungs, and pain in my side. I feel often 
 to say with David, " I shall one day perish by the hands 
 of Saul." I shall one day fall by the hand of this disease. 
 I finished visiting old Tom a week ago to-day, leaving him 
 nearly well. On the first instant, my bill was paid, which 
 will support me, unless I should be very sick, for the next 
 15 
 
338 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 ten weeks or three months. I would praise the name of the 
 Lord, that I have been enabled to earn so large a sum. 
 
 In a letter to his mother of July 19th, he mentions 
 surgical cases of practice that were on his hands, and 
 that he had three patients also in the city with chronic 
 
 diseases : 
 
 You see how the Lord has graciously blessed me with increase ; 
 BO that I hope from this date by his continued blessing to sus 
 tain myself. How many unwritten letters are continually 
 elaborated in the ever busy thoughts of home, and the dear 
 ones there, and the pleasant things that are constantly passing 
 through my mind like pictures in the camera obscura. How 
 often would the affectionate, restless workings of my heart fill 
 sheets, had I the power of the daguerreotype to transmit them 
 immediately, like portraits, to the white surface of the paper ! 
 I feel grieved at the necessity of dear George s departure, 
 and earnestly hope that his travels may be instrumental in 
 restoring him to perfect health. My heart is with you at 
 home in the absence of all your dear sons. 
 
 Trinidad de Cuba, August 13^, 1844. 
 MOST DEARLY BELOVED SISTER By the barque " Ellen" 
 which clears to-morrow for New York, I have an opportunity 
 to acknowledge the various epistolary favors that I have 
 received from the hands of yourself and dear Mother since 
 the date of my last. Truly a precious list of refresh 
 ments to your beloved self-exiled brother in this far off 
 land. I earnestly hope that amid all the changes that may 
 take place in the old homestead, the OLD ELM TREE will ever 
 be spared. From hence I sand forth the cry " Woodman ! 
 spare that TREE." If the house is sold, let it be with the con 
 dition in the deed, if possible, that the OLD ELM TREE is never 
 to be cut down. I am heartily glad that the syrup proved 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVKK, M.D. 
 
 so sweet and acceptable a gift it was fresh from the sugar 
 cane of Don Pio Bastida s estate. The profits of the molasses 
 trade have this year been very great. Mr. Lynn acknow 
 ledges that the profits of his business this year will, or do 
 amount to $30,000. I am truly rejoiced at his good fortune ; 
 speaking after the manner of men, none deserve it better than 
 he. His noble, open-hearted benevolence to all that are in 
 distress, and his generous, constant charity to the poor, of 
 whom there are many in Trinidad, do really make me admire 
 his character and applaud the sympathising kindness of his 
 heart. I wish, ah ! how I wish, that he were a Christian. 
 
 I have not had an attack of asthma since the 18th of last 
 May, and that was but of one day s duration. I have suffered, 
 however, a good deal from my cough, occasional irritation of 
 the lungs, and pain in the right side, and latterly from debility 
 induced by a chronic bilious diarrhoea, the effects, I suppose, 
 of the climate ; perhaps a kind of acclimation that I am 
 undergoing, my system having been unaccustomed to the 
 sultry heats of the tropics. But I am now much better of 
 it, and intend, in order still better to recruit, to go out in a 
 few days five leagues into the country to Don Pio Bastida s 
 estate, where for months I have had a standing invitation. 
 
 Only the day after the date of this letter there is an 
 entry in his journal of August 14th, which is painfully 
 significant as to his rapidly failing health and the 
 speedy termination of all earthly hopes : 
 
 Oh how depressed and feeble I am, yet I have written 
 to-day and yesterday three quite cheerful letters, but with a 
 tremendous effort. " Lover and friend hast thou put far from 
 me, and my acquaintance into darkness." I have not a 
 single, sympathising Christian companion here. I feel 
 sometimes, as though I could not possibly endure this 
 loneliness any longer. To be sick and alone, and likely to 
 
340 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 die among strangers oppresses me with sadness. Oh ! God, 
 leave me not to sink. In my deliberate judgment as a phy 
 sician, the symptoms I now observe in myself, excessive irrita 
 tion of the chest and lungs, pain in the right side, and occa 
 sional bloody phlegm, together with the diarrhoea and debility, 
 make it exceedingly doubtful whether I shall live many 
 months longer ; and yet I may live to a good old age. Some 
 times I think it may be in reserve for me thus to live, and 
 yet be all the time as I have already been the largest half of 
 my life, encompassed with, and suffering from, various bodily 
 infirmities. The Lord s will be done. Let Him do that 
 which seemeth to Him good. I humbly trust that living or 
 dying I am His ; and that all His dispensations in regard to 
 me will at length work out my highest everlasting good 
 
 " It is the Lord, whose matchless skill, 
 
 Can from afflictions raise, 
 Matter eternity to fill, 
 With ever growing praise." 
 
 Aug. 20tk, Estate of Don Pio Bastida. Fifteen miles 
 from Trinidad. We started this morning at five minutes to 
 six, and after a truly delightful and picturesque ride, arrived 
 at this beautifully situated estate, about twenty minutes past 
 eight. The air is cooler than in the city ; there is a refresh 
 ing breeze, and I already feel much better. The ride hardly 
 fatigued me. u Benito," has greatly improved in his paces ; 
 he has now a gualtropeo, as it is called, which is a very easy, 
 fine pace, and excellent for a journey. Thanks be to God for 
 His gracious protection, and that I am in the least degree im 
 proved in my health. 
 
 Saturday, 31s, Don Pio Bastida^s. Yesterday afternoon 
 we had a fine shower, and everything looks delightfully 
 green and fresh to-day. I am gradually improving, but my 
 appetite is still very small. My right side is very much 
 affected, and the seat of my disease seems to be now there. 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 
 
 I have had great pain in that region. This has been to 
 me one of the most painful, sad, and suffering months that 
 I ever experienced. Some days, both here and in Trinidad, 
 it has seemed as though I could not sustain myself 
 any longer, but must sink entirely, and die without 
 remedy. I seem as yet to be in a very critical state, and as 
 though I were hanging between life and death. Oh, blessed 
 Saviour, prepare me for any result, even the worst that can 
 befal me. 
 
 " Submissive to thy will, my God, 
 
 I all to thee resign, 
 And bow before thy chastening rod ; 
 
 I mourn, but not repine. 
 Why should my foolish heart complain, 
 
 When wisdom, truth, and love, 
 Direct the stroke inflict the pain 
 
 And point to joys above. 
 How short are all my sufferings here, 
 
 How needful every cross ; 
 Away, my unbelieving fear. 
 
 Nor call my gain my loss." 
 
 Trinidad, Sept. 4th, Wed-wsday, A.M. We came to 
 town yesterday morning, according to previous arrangement, 
 but found the roads excessively bad, from the quantity of rain 
 that had fallen. The Rio de Ay was so swollen, that we had 
 to pass it in a boat, and swim the horses across. I found all 
 things safe at my rooms, but was lonely and depressed on my 
 first arrival, at not finding one warm friend or dear relative 
 to welcome me back. I feel very much the separation from 
 all those I hold most dear, and the great want of some true 
 Christian bosom companion. 
 
 Sept. \th. This afternoon, by a great effort, I havo 
 written three letters, one to dear George, at London ; one to 
 cousin William at New York ; and one to dear Mother at 
 Hallowell. Still troubled with diarrhoea, which has greatly 
 weakened me. 
 
MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 Oct. 1st, 1844. Engaged my passage for Philadelphia, in 
 the brig u Espeleta," Capt. Ames. Very weak and feeble. 
 
 Oct. 2nd. A tremendous rain storm from the S.E. all day. 
 Enormous quantities of rain have fallen. The roar of the sea 
 can be heard very loud ; the first time I have heard it here. 
 Rather better to-day, having taken the elixir of opium last 
 night. But I seem to rally only for a day or so, and then sink 
 into a state of extreme weakness. Perhaps I shall not survive the 
 voyage, but still it MAY, by the great blessing of God, prove of 
 eminent service. One thing is certain that I am in a very 
 low state here, and my average improvement if any, very small, 
 and the lowness and depression that I suffer make me worse. 
 If I am soon to die, oh ! may Grod in His mercy grant that it 
 may be among my kindred. It would be dreadful to die here 
 in this Catholic, superstitious, irreligious country. The 
 American Consul, Mr. McLean, goes as passenger with 
 me, and the Captain s wife is with him, who is a kind-hearted 
 and amiable woman, and I think, will be a good nurse, and 
 do every thing she can for my comfort. 
 
 This expectation his friends had good reason to 
 know, and acknowledge, with gratitude for the kind 
 attentions paid him, was fully met. His situation on 
 shipboard was rendered comfortable by the friendly 
 offices of those with him, far more so than it could 
 have been, had he remained to die on land. The above 
 is the last memorial in the fair handwriting which has 
 traced the simple records of this volume, through a 
 series of suffering years. 
 
 God be praised for the assurance we have, that in 
 that blissful world where the former things are passed 
 away where the inhabitant shall no more say, I am 
 sick where there is no more death, neither sorrow 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 343 
 
 nor crying, nor any more pain with the Lamb who 
 is in the midst of the throne to lead him, he can 
 retrace by the light of eternity, all that suffering way 
 through time, and see in a record illuminated by the 
 Saviour s love, how all things were working together 
 for his good. May we be followers of him, who, 
 through FAITH AND PATIENCE, has inherited the pro 
 mises. 
 
 He was able to arrange and settle his affairs satis 
 factorily at Trinidad, and to embark on the twelfth of 
 October, still hopeful of arriving to die among his 
 kindred. He wrote a brief precautionary letter, ap 
 prising his friends of his embarkation, by another 
 vessel that sailed in company. It was not till the day 
 before his death that the progress of his disease 
 entirely disabled him from coming on deck. His fre 
 quent prayers for dying grace, were graciously an 
 swered in the gentle exit by which he at length passed 
 from time to eternity from a scene of trial to a heaven 
 of peace. The manner of his final departure is thus 
 given in letters to his Mother and Brother, by his 
 worthy friend and fellow-passenger, Samuel McLean, 
 United States Consul at Trinidad, on whom devolved 
 the sad duty of announcing the death of the beloved 
 sufferer, on the 23rd of October, 1844, in the brig 
 Espeleta : 
 
 " Every attention that could possibly be paid to 
 the sufferer was cheerfully performed by the wife of 
 the Captain, and I take a melancholy pleasure in 
 stating that his end was as calm and resigned, and 
 
MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 apparently as free from pain as any one the writer has 
 ever had the sad opportunity of witnessing. The day 
 before his decease, in a conversation with me, he 
 wished me to particularly understand that his faith 
 was strong in his Redeemer s promises, and that he 
 was willing, if it pleased God, to render up his soul to 
 him who gave up his own life that we might live 
 eternally. He had a great dread of leaving his body 
 in Cuba, preferring, as he frequently stated to me, to 
 die at sea. This sad alternative, was allowed him ; 
 and we committed his body to the deep on the even 
 ing of the 23rd, in latitude 28 42 , and longitude 79 
 50 , the burial-service of the Episcopal Church be 
 ing read on the occasion by the unworthy writer of 
 this letter." 
 
 An extract from a letter to his Brother George, 
 gives a few more interesting particulars of the last 
 days of the life portrayed in these pages : 
 
 " There is a deep moral in the dying-bed of a good 
 man, and such your esteemed brother certainly was. 
 It will be long ere the scene of his death will pass 
 from my memory. Our entire passage was one of 
 storms and tempests, and for a few days before and 
 after his death, the weather, in nautical parlance, was 
 very heavy ; still the patient sufferer complained not. 
 The day before his death, he called me to the side of 
 his berth, and after giving me such instructions as he 
 conceived necessary respecting his effects, he asked me 
 whether the storm was likely to abate. As we were 
 then making little or no progress, being in the Gulf 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 345 
 
 Stream with the wind ahead, I replied that I did not 
 think it would last much longer. He then said, if it 
 would please God, he would like very much to see 
 once more those faces that were so dear to him 
 (meaning his Mother and Sister he supposed you to be 
 in Europe at that time) ; but, says he, " Not my will, 
 but Thine be done." These were his last words. All 
 the ensuing night he appeared to doze, and he lay like 
 an infant taking his rest. Not a groan not a moan 
 escaped his lips ; and he died without a struggle the 
 day after the circumstances above related occurred. 
 Everything that could be done under the circum 
 stances was done ; and about sunset his body was 
 committed to that deep which, on the great day, will 
 give up its dead. The prayers of the Episcopal 
 Church were read, and the howling of the storm was 
 his requiem." 
 
 A suitable close to these memorials, which it 
 has been a sad, yet satisfactory work to prepare, is 
 found in a tribute to his memory written for the New 
 York Observer, by Rev. George Shepard, D.D., now 
 Professor in the Theological Seminary of Bangor, Maine, 
 formerly the beloved Pastor of the old South Congre 
 gational Church in Hallowell : 
 
 " The recent announcement in your paper of the 
 death of Dr. Nathaniel Cheever, on his passage home 
 from Cuba, was one which surprised and pained many 
 hearts. Dr. Cheever was a native of Hallowell, Me. 
 In childhood he was remarkable for an exuberance of 
 15* 
 
346 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 life a ceaseless and bounding elasticity of spirits. 
 But he was early called to suffering. When he was 
 twelve years of age, the heavy hand of disease 
 came upon him in the form of an incurable asthma. 
 In the attacks and paroxysms of this disease, his suf 
 ferings were great indeed. It was, at those times, 
 most painful to look on, and witness the hard and un- 
 respited contention for the liberty to breathe. But 
 manfully and submissively would he always go through 
 the whole term of the agony. 
 
 " Not long after the attack of the disease, he became 
 a subject of God s renewing grace. His experience 
 was remarkable in one so young for depth, clearness, 
 and variety. From the first his hope was firm and 
 assured his joy pure and strong. He loved to talk 
 upon Christian experience. ~No other topic pleased 
 him so well. The writer remembers well the time 
 when he publicly professed his faith in Christ. How 
 satisfactory the account he gave of the hope that was 
 in him ; and how surprised were some who did not 
 know him intimately, that one so young should, ex 
 hibit such understanding and answers. 
 
 " The disparity at this period between his mind and 
 body was a very striking circumstance ; for while the 
 disease was holding his bodily growth in check, the 
 mind advanced more rapidly toward maturity than is 
 common even where there is perfect health. He was 
 a man almost in intellect, when he seemed a mere 
 child in form, aspect, and voice. To look at him, so 
 young in appearance and in reality too, then to hear 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 34:7 
 
 him converse with such variety and soundness of 
 knowledge as he did; to listen to his prayers, and 
 notice the fervor, the compass, the finished structure, 
 arid the perfect propriety of every part, often excited 
 wonder, and the strangeness of the thing would some 
 times even force a smile. It should be added here, 
 that he subsequently gained much in stature by resid 
 ing at Malaga, to which place he was twice driven by 
 the iron hand of his disease. 
 
 " His great thirst for knowledge, and his desire to 
 be useful in some worthy calling, led him, as public 
 speaking was out of the question with him, to choose 
 the profession of medicine. To this choice he was 
 doubtless drawn, in some degree, by curiosity to know 
 more of his own suffering nature, that, by the help of 
 books, and a bitter experience, he might pry, if possi 
 ble, into the mysteries of the disease that was oppress 
 ing him, and thus, peradventure, the physician might 
 heal himself. A kind Providence gave him health and 
 strength sufficient to accomplish the prescribed course 
 of study ; and having received his degree from the New 
 York Medical College, he was induced to establish 
 himself in Trinidad de Cuba, on account of the sup 
 posed favorableness of the climate to his constitution. 
 Here his professional prospects became encouraging ; 
 and his friends were hoping, that by a residence in so 
 genial an atmosphere, his own health would be gradu 
 ally confirmed, and a wide door of usefulness be 
 opened to him. But it was otherwise determined by 
 an All-wise Providence. 
 
34:8 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 " Before his friends were aware of it, his case had 
 become critical, perhaps hopeless ; and he decided to 
 embark for this country, with the earnest hope that he 
 might be permitted to reach the home he so much 
 loved, and die in the bosom of its warm affection and 
 sympathies. This was not allowed him. But God 
 provided for him kind friends on the passage, who 
 devotedly and skilfully ministered to him in his neces 
 sity. 
 
 He also gave him the strong consolations of an 
 unshaken faith and hope in Christ. That Heavenly 
 Friend was near to comfort him. His end was peace : 
 perfectly calm, apparently without suffering, quite 
 on the verge of heaven. 
 
 " Dr. Cheever was one who drew to himself the con 
 fidence and love of all who knew him. He was cha 
 racterized by a mind well disciplined and stored ; by 
 a brilliant imagination, and a pure and delicate taste ; 
 by a benevolence and affectionateness of spirit never 
 weary of kindly offices ; by a cheerfulness amid de 
 pressing circumstances which nothing could cloud, 
 and an ever-springing, ruling hope, which nothing 
 could extinguish ; by a simple trust in God, which 
 ever sustained him before the darkest prospects ; 
 finally, by a wonderful power of deriving happiness 
 from every object and arrangement about him. 
 
 Few, probably, with such a weight of infirmity, 
 have lived so happy a life. He seemed to be com 
 pensated for his sufferings by this power of ex 
 tracting enjoyment from all sources; and those suf- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVEK, M.D. 349 
 
 ferings, his delivered spirit has learned, are not 
 worthy to be compared with the glory to be re 
 vealed." 
 
 " Spirit, thy labor is o er, 
 Thy term of probation is run, 
 
 Thy steps are now bound for the untrodden shore, 
 And the race of immortals begun. 
 How blessed and bright is the road, 
 For which thou art now on the wing ! 
 
 Thy home, it will be with thy Saviour and God, 
 Their loud hallelujahs to sing.-" 
 
350 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Now planted in a world of light, 
 
 Unfolding into perfect bliss, 
 Oh, who shall mourn the eaily flight, 
 In Christ so beautiful and bright, 
 
 That drew him from a world like this ? 
 
 THE scene has closed. At sea in that little cabin, 
 amidst the storm, arid in extreme weakness, though, 
 by the mercy of God, with but little suffering, and in a 
 spirit of calm, sweet confidence in the Redeemer, the 
 last dying struggle of life has been passe d through, 
 and the soul has winged its way to Heaven. What a 
 blissful change, from an existence, the protracted 
 effort of which was a conflict with disease and suffer 
 ing, and one continued trial of faith and patience, to 
 the unclouded presence and perfect likeness of Christ, 
 in a world of uninterrupted holiness, happiness, and 
 glory. 
 
 Looking at it as a whole, how singular the process 
 of preparation for that world ! Each changing scene 
 and discipline of life, under the shape of hopes or 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 351 
 
 efforts to be strengthened and spared for usefulness in 
 this world, being only an application of God s refining 
 and chastening instrumentalities, till the jewel, which 
 was not to be set here on earth, should be fitted for 
 the Redeemer s crown in heaven. Sometimes it seems 
 as if God s only object in calling his children, and 
 sanctifying them, is to carry them to glory, doing little 
 or nothing with them by the way except as preparing 
 them for the end. And yet the example of suffering 
 affliction, and of patience, just so far as that is visible 
 in a likeness to the Great Captain of our Salvation, is 
 more wonderful, and may be, in some respects, more 
 useful than the most brilliant and prosperous career 
 of usefulness. 
 
 One after another the treasured hopes and expec 
 tations of our dear brother were disappointed, and 
 taken from him, till the last that was left was the 
 earnest wish, the longing desire, to see once more his 
 beloved Mother and Sister, and, if it might please 
 God, to die among his kindred. Even that could not 
 be permitted; but when all is gone when every 
 earthly hope is taken, how completely and calmly can 
 Jesus satisfy the soul ! Here, at length, God made 
 it easy for him to dismiss the last desire of life,, and 
 submissively and serenely to know that never again 
 on earth could he see the faces of those so dear to him. 
 There was no conflict at last : all he had to do was 
 quietly to fall asleep in Jesus. 
 
 Christ views his image now ! The victory s won ! 
 The last dark shadow from his child is drawn ! 
 The veil is rent away ! In endless peace, 
 
352 MEMOEIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 The soul beholds its Saviour face to face. 
 Is this death s seal ? The impression, oh how fair ! 
 Look, what a radiant smile is playing there ! 
 That was the soul s farewell : the sacred dust 
 Awaits the resurrection of the just. 
 
 JSTow, how little do we know, at the beginning, what 
 God is going to do, or what is for the best ! Any one 
 who could have witnessed the frank, cheerful, faithful 
 zeal, that characterized the earliest life in Christ of the 
 youthful disciple, his spontaneous delight and perse 
 verance in efforts for the winning of souls to the 
 Saviour, would have predicted a course of great use 
 fulness, if life were spared, and might perhaps have 
 said : It is likely that God will train and discipline 
 this youthful Christian for some great thing in his 
 service. And yet, all the paths through which God 
 brought him, seemed only to wind back upon himself, 
 not ended, nor even intended to end, through any 
 effectual door, in any post of labor or of influence 
 for Christ. 
 
 What God does thus for such a limited season, 
 he sometimes does with a more advanced Christian, 
 and for a still longer period, seeming to throw away 
 from any active service the very vessels which he 
 had afore prepared for such service, even while the 
 Redeemer s cause appears to languish for want of 
 just such instruments. But we are as clay in the 
 hands of the potter, and God, in all things, is a sove 
 reign. 
 
 If we love God, all His discipline is best for us, 
 besides being most for His glory. Yet, for the pre- 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 353 
 
 sent, it may be not joyous, but grievous, and not light 
 but darkness : the meaning of the discipline may be 
 not clear but hidden. The clouds that by and by are 
 to break with blessings, sometimes all through this 
 life roll up in black volumes, with thunderings, and 
 lightnings, and tempests, overspreading our whole 
 heavens, even till the night of death, which, for the 
 believer, is the dawn of perfect day. Oh then, let 
 God s will be done! When that is all our desire, 
 then cometh the end. Then, in this world even, is an 
 end of all real sorrow ; then the object of the Re 
 deemer s sufferings and death is in us almost perfectly 
 accomplished, by saving us from our sins. Sometimes 
 this purifying work seems, even this side the grave, to 
 have gone so far towards the very transfiguration of 
 heaven, that little, if anything, of sin is left in the 
 believer, to die with him. He only needs to put off 
 this tabernacle, all that is mortal and sinful seeming 
 to have retreated from the inner man before the pre 
 sence of Christ, and to have taken its last post and 
 refuge in that which is outward and corruptible, that 
 which is to be sown in the grave, and thence to be raised 
 in a likeness to the Redeemer s glorified body, as 
 blissful and perfect as the likeness between the re 
 generated soul and Christ s redeeming spirit. And the 
 sea ! the sea, too, shall then give up its dead ! 
 
 They that sleep in Jesus, how quietly they slumber 
 beneath the rolling waves ! Once in early life, amidst 
 the sufferings of his disease, our beloved Brother 
 wrote an essay on the characteristics of true resig 
 
854 MEMORIALS OF THE LIFE 
 
 nation to God s will, in answer to a question proposed 
 by liis Sister. In the course of it, lie alluded to the 
 trying event of a death and burial at sea, and the 
 glorious hope of the Resurrection the same hope for 
 friends far away as for those whose green, grassy 
 mounds we visit in the grave-yard of our native vil 
 lage. It is affecting now to read that passage ; it 
 seems a long, yet not sad presentiment, of what might 
 be his own fate. "What matter where, since Christ is 
 still the same, the same watchful Omnipresence, the 
 same loving grace and saving power on the sea as on 
 the land. How many dear forms lie shrouded there 
 for the Resurrection ! The weeds are wrapped around 
 their heads, but God s angels can watch them there 
 as securely as beneath heaven s atmosphere. The 
 voice of the ocean is a great cradle-hymn, by the 
 music of w T hich the dead may slumber. In the war 
 of its tempest-thunders, or in the calm and mighty 
 sweep of its undulating billows, or in the beating of 
 its surges on a rock-bound shore, or in the solemn 
 tramp of its tides upon the long, white, lonely beach, 
 it is a perpetual requiem. 
 
 Oh, thou that goest forth upon its waters, drooping 
 and sad, so embark that if thine appointed resting- 
 place should be a bed beneath the deep, thou, too, 
 mayest sleep in Jesus ! Go forth trusting in Him ; 
 into His hands commit thy spirit ; day by day, while 
 thou breathest the air of the sea, let the breath of 
 prayer ascend to God, by faith in Jesus. So slialt 
 THOU BE AT PEACE ; and whether it be storm or calm, 
 
OF NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. 355 
 
 ALL winds and waves shall be to tliee the voice of 
 God in mercy. Hope thou in Him, and all shall be 
 well. 
 
 JESUS SAID, I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE I 
 HE THAT BELIEVETH IN ME, THOUGH HE WERE DEAD, 
 YET SHALL HE LIVE \ AND WHOSOEVER LIVETH AND BE 
 LIEVETH IN ME, SHALL NEVER DIE. 
 
 THE END. 
 
THE WHALE AND HIS CAPTORS: 
 
 WITH ENGRAVINGS. 16MO, 60 CENTS. 
 
 BY REV, HENRY T, CHEEVER, 
 
 THIS elegantly printed and embellished volume is the production of a close observer, 
 and a polished and able writer. The Whale s Biography, and a thousand incidents of 
 whaling life, are racily and agreeably told, while the reflections of the Moralist and 
 Christian voyager are unobtrusively thrown into the text. An Appendix contains many 
 valuable suggestions in regard to the moral and religious interests of seamen and whale 
 men. We know of few books which would be more eagc-rly sought after in District 
 Libraries than this. IVatcrtoicn Reformer. 
 
 There is very much valuable information contained in a small compass in fact, a 
 complete history of that department of the Whale Fishery. Interspersed are glowing 
 and graphic pictures of the ocean, its dangers, its storms, its calms, and the peculiar 
 habits of those that roam its depths. It is a very readable and pleasant as well as 
 profitable volume. Albany Atlas. 
 
 Since the issue of Dana s justly celebrated "Two Years Before the Mast," we have 
 read nothing of sea-life and adventure so fresh, lively, and instructive as this beautiful 
 book. It is full of life, anecdote, facts, incidents, and character, and succeeds in keep 
 ing the reader intensely occupied with the glories and wonders of the end. The con 
 templative eye and Christian heart with which the writer looks abroad upon the deep, 
 and the fertile fancy with which he links the incidents, and even the phraseology of 
 sea-life, with the most important and beautiful matters of religion and truth, are among 
 the peculiar charms of the book. It is printed uniform with the Abbott s beautiful 
 series of histories, and is well adapted for the reading of the young. Jfeio York 
 Ecanvelist. 
 
 A charming volume, presenting the rarely combined features of being a book adapted 
 alike to delight boys and men; one which the naturalist will peruse for fresh informa 
 tion on the habits of Cetacea, and the clergyman recommend on account of the spirit 
 of cheerful piety and truthfulness that pervades the narrative. London Literary 
 Gazette. 
 
 A very readable and interesting volume, full of stirring adventure, hair-breadth 
 escapes, and curious information. It is just the sort of book for the eager intelligences 
 which at this season of the year crowd around the Christmas table. London Athenaum. 
 
 The adventures of a clergyman, who adopted a voyage in a whaler as a menus of 
 recruiting exhausted strength, present an abundance of material both for amusement 
 and instruction. The naturalist will find a great many new particulars respecting the 
 mammoth of the ocean, and the reader who delights in descriptions of hair-breadth 
 escapes and perilous incidents, will be well pleased with the dish set before him. 
 There is, moreover, a spirit of cheerful piety and truthfulness pervading the narrative 
 that are very pleasing. Every branch of, and every circumstance connected with the 
 whale fishery is glanced upon, and the habits of the animal form by no means the 
 least entertaining portion of the book. Christian Intelligencer. 
 
 The author narrates the exciting events of a sea-voyage undertaken for his health, 
 and the fisher of men is lost sight of in the description of the life and manners of the 
 fishers offish. Strange to sny, he has converted what Homer so frequently calls the 
 k untillable ocean," into a field prolific at once of romantic adventure, rich information, 
 moral instruction, and most absorbing interest. The reader is borne nway through 
 his pages with an attraction that reminds one of the boat drawn by the harpooned 
 monster of the deep in his abortive efforts to escape his pursuers. We know of no 
 reading of the kind which will afford a richer treat than this beautiful little volume of 
 Mr. Cheever s. JVeic Church Repository. 
 
 2 
 
MEMORIALS OF CAPTAIN OBADIAH CONGAR: 
 
 BY REV, HENRY T, CHEEVER, 
 
 16MO, MUSLIN, 50 CENTS. 
 
 THIS is a fitting monument to the memory of an old sailor, who, after having 
 weathered many storms on the ocean of life, arrived safe, at an advanced age, in the 
 haven of everlasting rest. There is a good deal of interesting incident in his life, but 
 the most interesting circumstance is, that, in spite of the peculiar temptations to which 
 his profession exposed him, he maintained a close and humble walk with God. It is 
 proper that the example of such a man should be embalmed, and Mr. Cheever has 
 .tune it well. New York Observer. 
 
 The individuality described is that of a man exposed to the varied temptations and 
 distractions of a sailor s life, but still drawn heavenward by the influence of the Spirit 
 of God, and describing in a simple and unaffected manner the influence of God s mer 
 cies and chastisements in the formation of his character as a Christian. The tone of 
 the book is healthy and liberal; it appears to contain much to recommend it to the 
 perusTil of those who are looking to God as their "ever present help in every time of 
 trouble." The author already enjoys a high reputation from his Island World of 
 the Pacific." Parker s Journal. 
 
 With the trials and adventures of a veteran sailor, there is blended in this narrative 
 p. minute account of his religious experience. Independent, therefore, of the interest 
 of the memoir, the work, from its clear style and cheap form, is well adapted for the 
 Sunday reading of the forecastle, and should be distributed by the friends of seamen. 
 Home Journal. 
 
 This is a faithful, well-written, and instructive biography of an eminently practical 
 good man. It deserves a place, and will have it, in our District and Sabbath-school 
 libraries. Hartford Courant. 
 
 Captain Congar was a genuine old Puritan salt, who sailed for more than fifty years 
 as a shipmaster out of this port. He, of course, led a life of vicissitude and adventure, 
 which he relates, partly himself, and partly through Mr. Cheever, with great earnest 
 ness and simplicity. Evening Post. 
 
 In the autobiography of Captain Congar we find much to admire nnd more to re 
 spect. His life was one universally instructive, and cannot fail to be particularly in 
 teresting to every nautical individual, whether he be a shipmaster or an humble sea 
 man before the mast. He was eminently a holy man, a faithful Christian, and an un 
 tiring laborer in the cause of his Master. It is appropriately dedicated by the author 
 to the Seamen s Friend Societies of the two great commercial nations of the globe 
 England and America. JVezo York Farmer and Mechanic. 
 
 From such a history useful lessons may be drawn, and its perusal will have a ten 
 dency to strengthen good purposes, and to incite others to follow a worthy example, 
 while as a mere personal narrative it will be found entertaining and often of thrilling 
 Interest. Northern Budget. 
 
 We are glad to see a book of so much value added to the collection of Christian 
 literature designed especially for seamen, and delineating, as it docs, the good example 
 of one of their number, who spent a large portion of his fourscore years in "a life on 
 the ocean wave." The tales of the sea, exposures, hair-breadth escapes, providential 
 care experienced, and Christian testimony with which the book abounds, will, wo 
 doubt not, secure for it an extensive and profitable reading. Family Guardian. 
 
 The subject of this memoir was horn in New Jersey, in 1767, and died in 1848, aged 
 81. When a boy, he became a sailor, and in his eighteenth year commenced keeping 
 a journal, from which the materials of this book are mostly derived. He became mate 
 tn a ship at the age of twenty-one. He afterwards became captain, and was ever found 
 an humble, conscientious, and practical Christian mariner. When there was scarcely 
 another of his fellow-captains, in England or America, to keep him in countenance, 
 he would neither sail from port, nor allow any other than the absolutely necessary 
 workings of the ship at sea, on Sunday. During the twenty-three voyages which he 
 made while captain, he had the Sabbath carefully observed to the best of his ability, 
 bv all on board, and engaged in devotional services. His example is worthy of imi 
 tation. We believe it will do good, both in the forecastle and in the cabin. Christian 
 Watchman. 
 
THE ISLAND WOULD OF THE PACIFIC: 
 
 BY REV, HENRY T, CHEEVER, 
 
 WITH ENGRAVINGS. 12MO, MUSLIN, $1.00. 
 
 THIS is a volume worthy of the age, and of tlie present wants of the world. We have 
 perused it with uinningled pleasure and delight, and promise any one who will take 
 the trouble to open it, an amount and richness of information relative to the Polynesian 
 world, to be obtained from no other source. It is copiously illustrated, and written in 
 a flowing style, and with the marks of keen observation, Christian philosophy, and a 
 critical insight into the world s woes, wants, and blessing.*, stamped on every page. In 
 it are passages and chapters of exceeding beauty of description. The chapter on the 
 Albatross, that glorious bird of the sea, is worth the price of the volume. American 
 Spectator. 
 
 The volume presents a mass of information with regard to the history, geography, 
 and commercial and political condition of those islands, brought down to the present 
 time, and digested into a compact and readable form. His book cannot fail to be widely 
 read during the present excitement in regard to every thing connected with the Pacilic 
 Ocean. New York Tribune. 
 
 The author informs us that the object of his book is to give a true and life-like pic 
 ture of the best part of Polynesia as it was in 1850. He has executed the task in a 
 very creditable manner. The Christian public will welcome a volume from one who 
 is able and willing to tell the truth in regard to those islands where missionary opera 
 tions have been so successful, and yet the subject of so much detraction and abuse. 
 The book contains much valuable information, connected with interesting anecdotes 
 and personal adventures. It is illustrated by a score of well-executed engravings. 
 The Appendix, giving a statistical view of the resources, trade, population, etc., of the 
 Hawaiian Islands, is a valuable addition. New York Observer. 
 
 It is full of information and life, telling stories of land and se i in a way to stir the 
 passion for adventure without harm to the sobriety of the reader s temper, or the stead 
 fastness of his faith. We need such books always, and especially now, when a new 
 age of marine adventure is awakened, and mr youth are taking with fresh zeal to the 
 seas. Voyages are always captivating to the young, and happy is it when the story is 
 told by a Christian or a man of taste. The book is just the thing for the host of boys 
 between fourteen and twenty, the mighty generation now starting on the race or voy 
 age of life. Christian Enquirer. 
 
 A charming book, which we can read with confidence in the author s statements, 
 and with unflagging interest in the fresh scenes which they bring so vividly before our 
 minds. It is a most instructive book for young persons. The ocean paradises of 
 which it makes report to us, will cro long be visited by summer tourists. Unitarian 
 Quarterly Examiner. 
 
 Thoso interested in the history of missions, as conducted in the Islands of the Sen, 
 will wish to place this interesting and instructive volume both in their home and 
 school libraries. Its style is pleasing, and as well calculated to engage the attention of 
 the young as the fascinating romance, while, instead of presenting merely the idral, it 
 communicates the real and the useful. The numerous engravings add to its value, 
 and give an accurate view of many points of interest in these far-off islands. Advocate 
 and Guardian. 
 
 It is full of pleasing incident told in a pleasing vein, and lets one deeply into the 
 reality of that island life, whereof Typee and Kaloolah gave us its myttery and ro 
 mance. Melville threw around his incidents of Polynesian adventure the soft, light, 
 and bright hues of fairy creation, reducing his story in the minds of many to a pure 
 myth. Cheever dresses his personal adventure in the soberer garb of truth ; and as he 
 leads us on from group to group of those f,ir-off isles, he drops here and there, al! along 
 the course of his route, practical and statistical observations, that let one deeply into 
 the true state of these " haunts and homes" of another, though a brother race. Ro 
 chester American. 
 
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 BERKELEY 
 
 Return to desk from which borrowed. 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 41952 
 
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