The Annual Monitor for 1851
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Title: The Annual Monitor for 1851 or, Obituary of the members of the
Society of Friends in Great Britain and Ireland, for the year 1850
Author: Anonymous
Release Date: June 4, 2006 [eBook #18502]
Language: English
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***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ANNUAL MONITOR FOR 1851***
Transcribed from the 1850 C. Gilpin, R. Y. Clarke, and Co. edition by David
Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org
New Series, No 9.
THE ANNUAL MONITOR FOR 1851.
or
OBITUARY
of the
MEMBERS OF THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS
In Great
Britain and Ireland,
for the year 1850.
LONDON:
SOLD BY C. GILPIN, R. Y. CLARKE, AND
CO., DARTON AND CO.,
AND E. MARSH: GEORGE HOPE, YORK.
1850.
p.
iiiINTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
We have again to present to our friends the Report of the Annual Mortality in
the Society of Friends, in Great Britain and Ireland. It has frequently
been observed, how nearly the number of deaths in each year has approximated,
but we have this year to notice a considerable diminution in the annual
return. We are not disposed, however, to attribute the diminished numbers,
chiefly to any special cause connected with health, but consider it rather as
one of those fluctuations which are ever found to arise in a series of years, in
the mortality of a small community. The number of the dying, however, may
be expected to bear, as respects the average, a pretty uniform relation to the
number of the living. And if the fact be, as all our late inquiries lead
us to believe it is, that we are, though slowly, a diminishing body, we must
expect that our average number of deaths will also be found gradually to
diminish.
p. ivWe have
often anxiously pondered over the question,—Why the Society of Friends should be
a diminishing body? And we propose to give in this place a few of the
thoughts which have been suggested to us in the course of our consideration.
In the first place, let us notice the natural causes which tend to the
decrease of our Society. We have formerly shown that the mortality among
our members is less than in the community at large, which so far as it extends,
is of course a reason for the increase rather than the diminution of our
numbers. But then we have, on the other side, the well-ascertained fact,
that whilst in the community at large, the registered births exceed the deaths,
by 45 per cent; in the Society of Friends, the registered deaths actually exceed
the births! The cause of this fact is to be found, not only in connection
with the number who marry out of the Society, but also in the operation of that
prudential check on entering into the married state, which will always prevail
amongst a moral people, where the means of subsistence cannot easily and with
certainty be obtained. But to whatever we may attribute the cause, the
fact itself is a complete answer to the question—Why p. vwe are a diminishing rather than
an increasing people?
It may be said,—Why are not our religious principles aggressive?—Why, if they
be true, do they not find converts among the various Christian communities of
our land?—Why, as in the early times of our Society, are there not numerous
conversions, and fresh bodies of warm-hearted, and sound-minded believers, added
to our numbers?—These are deeply important and very interesting questions, and
we are willing to offer a few thoughts upon them, with the seriousness and
modesty with which it becomes us to speak on the subject.
We believe, that a mistaken view prevails, in regard to the truest Christian
principle being that which will be accepted by the largest number of
persons. The experience of all the past ages of the Church contradicts the
assumption, and shows clearly that there is in man a deep-seated opposition to
the acceptance of divine truth in its purity and simplicity. True vital
religion has ever called for the service of man’s heart to God, and in every
age, this allegiance has been the state of the few, rather than of the
many. The history of the p. viancient church is full of illustrations of this
truth. Whilst Moses lingered on the Mount, whence the children of Israel
knew that the law was to be given, and from whence such evident demonstrations
of the divine power had been manifest to the people, they were employed in
making the golden calf to go before them, and crying "these are thy Gods, O
Israel!" And when they had received the law, written by the finger of God,
and were somewhat humbled under the correction of their sins, how few were
there, who carried out its injunctions in their genuine spirit, and how many
were there, who from time to time, defiled themselves by the idolatrous service
of other gods. Even when brought by a strong hand, and an outstretched
arm, attended by many palpable miracles which were wrought on their behalf, they
were seated in the "Land flowing with milk and honey," which had been promised
to their fathers; how prone were they constantly to desert even the profession
of their faith, and to serve the gods of the nations which they were sent to
destroy; yet in all these times there were a few, and it was probably
comparatively but a few, who had not bowed the knee to Baal.
p. viiWe have
evidence of the same fact in the history of Christianity. The beautiful
example of the Saviour, and the wonderful miracles which he performed—all for
the good of man—failed to attract the high boasted reason of the Greek, or the
Roman, or to soften the obduracy of the blind and hard Pharisaic hearted Jew: it
was still the few who had sympathy with the character He exhibited, and
the truths which He spoke, and who found Him to be to their souls "the power of
God unto salvation." And even when these few were gathered together, and
under the extraordinary effusion of the Holy Spirit, many were added to them,
and "the multitude of them that believed were of one heart and one soul," they
were still comparatively but a few.
The further history of the Christian Church may appear to some to exhibit a
different view, but to us it seems not less clearly to illustrate the same
melancholy truth.
It is certain, that during the life-time of the Apostles, many by their
powerful preaching, under the influence of the Holy Spirit, were brought to
repentance and a living faith in Christ, and we know that not a few sealed their
testimony with p.
viiitheir blood, yet the simplicity and the purity of Christianity were
soon more or less spoiled by the still contracted spirit and notions of many of
the Jews, or the false philosophy, not entirely abandoned, of the pagan
converts. We doubt not, however, that notwithstanding these deteriorating
admixtures, there may be said to have been many—aye, a glorious multitude—who
held the truth in its primitive power, and in a large measure of primitive
simplicity. Still, when these are compared with the whole population of
the countries where the Truth was preached, the real converts must be spoken of
as a few, and thus was it evident that there was still an inherent
opposition in man to the restraining and purifying doctrines of the gospel of
Christ.
And when in later years, whole nations and peoples were said to become
Christians, it may well be doubted whether in such times there had not been as
great a reduction of the number of true converts of old standing, as there was
addition of this class amongst the new ones. Christianity as professed in
those days, had thrown off her simple garb, and had decorated herself to please
the corrupt taste of p.
ixthe people—as the sun and other heavenly bodies were probably the
earliest objects of adoration to mankind, and were used in the first instance as
striking symbols of the light and power of the one Creator and Father, so did
the professors of Christianity, pretty early present to the people, some
intermediate objects of reverence and love, by which those who turned from the
simple affiance to the one Great Redeemer and High Priest, might find a rest
suited to their carnal, or at least imperfectly spiritual conception of
Christianity. And when the temporal church boasted of its universal sway
in Europe, and its entire unity, there were probably a smaller number of true
Christians within its pale, than existed in the midst of pagan persecutions at
the close of the apostolic age.
Let us now look at times nearer to our own, when Huss, and Luther, and
Zwingle, by a power not their own, caused many rays of the glorious light of
Truth to shine upon benighted nations, and disturbed the slumbers of the
corrupted church. Great were, and still are the blessings derived from the
great struggle. Many of the bonds of Satan were broken, and many a heavy
burdened soul found its long desired rest. Yet how soon p. xwas even the brightness of this
morning dimmed, and how little progress did the cause of the Reformation make
after the departure of the immediate instruments in the great movement.
In Switzerland, not inaptly called the cradle of the English Reformation, the
Cantons which, in the first instance received the truth and joined the
Protestant cause, continue still to bear the same name, but not one which at
that time retained the designation of Catholic, has since become Protestant: and
at Geneva, where Calvin taught, and where his doctrines are still professed,
opinions which were not less abhorrent to him than the worst of the errors of
popery, are openly maintained. Those who now preach the vital truths of
the Reformation, are the few not the many.
In England, the iron rule of Elizabeth in ecclesiastical matters, and in
particular her requirement of uniformity with respect to the "rags of Rome,"
checked the real progress of the Reformation in the English church, but by a
reaction which in the ordering of Divine Wisdom, often makes the wrath of man to
praise him, it appears to have been the means of raising up an increased
antagonism to error, in the persons of men willing to suffer and
p. xito die for the
cause of truth. It will perhaps be admitted that at many periods of the
history of what is called the English church, whilst its nominal members
numbered a large proportion of the whole population, the actual number of the
genuine disciples of Christ within its pale were in small compass. The
revival in some measure, of the spirit of its reformers, even in opposition to
the letter of many of its formularies, has, no doubt, in past times, done much
to increase its living influence and usefulness, but recent events have shown
how large a portion of its clergy instead of going forward in the work of the
Reformation, are rather desirous of retrograde movement, and of approximating,
if not of entirely returning to the errors of Rome. Such, we ought ever to
bear in mind, is the natural tendency of man, and so prone is he, even when
raised by the True Light to a perception of the things which are most excellent,
to sink again into the grovelling habits of his own dark nature.
We come now to the threshold of our own religious history, and shall
endeavour to answer, in substance at least, the queries with which we commenced
the present inquiry. It was certainly an p. xiiextraordinary period of our
national religious history, in which the Society of Friends arose—a time in
which old foundations were shaken, and an earnest inquiry excited in many minds
after the way of truth and of real peace to the soul. We think that it is
not assuming, to express our belief, that a remarkable extension of spiritual
light and energy was extended to the people of England, in that day, when George
Fox, and his early associates, went forth through the length and breadth of the
land, and found so extraordinary a preparation for their service in the hearts
of their fellow-countrymen.
The first preachers knew a being made Christians themselves, before they went
forth to call others to Christ—what a deep sense of sin and of its hatefulness
in the sight of God—what earnestness, or rather agonizing in prayer—what joy in
the sense of the true knowledge of Christ, and of communion with him in
Spirit—what subsequent watchfulness and reliance upon him in every step of their
course—what zeal in making known the truth which they had found, and what
constancy in suffering for it, yea thinking it all joy that they were counted
worthy to suffer for the name of p. xiiiChrist!—Such were the men who were heralds of our
religious Society, and by whose instrumentality thousands at least, were
convinced of the truth; large numbers of whom gave evidence that they were not
only convinced, but converted to God. Need we then wonder at their
success? though still compared with the numbers to which they preached, the
converts may be said to have been few. It was still the
many, who if brought to see as it were their face in a glass, went away
and straightway forgot what manner of men they were.
We believe that the number of persons who went under the name of Friends, in
Great Britain and Ireland, at the close of the 17th century, was at least three
times as great as it is at the present time.
It will be in accordance with our object, to endeavour to indicate what may
have been the chief causes of the suspension of those active measures which we
have called aggressive,—though full of love, and which marked the early periods
of our Society. An historian of the church, who was not insensible of what
constitutes true religious energy, has stated, that extraordinary revivals of
this kind, have rarely been maintained p. xivin their primitive vigour more than about forty
years. Rather more than that time elapsed between the commencement of
George Fox’s labours and their close, at the time of his death. About
eight days previous to that event, he attended a meeting of ministers, in
London, and one of those who was present says: "I much minded his exhortation to
us, encouraging friends that have gifts to make use of them; mentioning many
countries beyond the seas that wanted visiting, instancing the labours and hard
travels of friends in the beginning of the spreading of truth in our days, in
breaking up of countries, and of the rough ploughing they had in steeple houses,
&c., but that now it was more easy; and he complained, that there were many
Demases and Cains who embraced the present world, and encumbered themselves with
their own business, and neglected the Lord’s, and so were good for nothing; and
he said, they that had wives, should be as though they had none; and who goeth a
warfare should not entangle himself with the things of this world."
This characteristic extract will suggest, probably, to many readers, our
object in quoting it. p. xvIf there was cause for the reproof conveyed in it in
that day, in which we know the primitive zeal still burned brightly, what must
we say of the subsequent, and of the present state of our little church!
Long after the death of George Fox, there continued to be a large increase to
the numbers of friends; many who had been wise and great in this world, were
made to rejoice in the laying down of their outward wisdom, and in sitting down
in deep humility to learn of Jesus, by the teaching of the Holy Spirit in the
heart. These were prepared boldly to declare God’s controversy with sin,
and the means by which it might be subdued, not omitting to proclaim the alone
ground of a sinner’s pardon through the propitiatory sacrifice of our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ.
We believe certainly that it has never been permitted to our Society to be
without its faithful labourers in the gospel, or without many sincere confessors
of its doctrines, who, by life and conversation, have been true preachers to
their brethren, and to the world in general. Yet we must confess, that
whilst as a Society, we continue to profess the same religious views as were p. xviheld and
promulgated by our early Friends, we fear we do not come up in practice to that
pure standard to which they attained. The door is open to all the world,
yet we sit at ease in our ceiled houses. Many around us are hungering and
thirsting for the knowledge of God, yet we are occupied with our farms and our
merchandise. Let us not be inquiring, "What shall this man do," or what
should the other have done? but remembering the reproof, "What is that to thee,
follow thou Me," submit ourselves to that humbling, but preparing hand,
which was so signally displayed in the cause of those who were engaged in the
planting and watering of our religious Society. Then might we again hope
to witness an increase of spiritual life and vigour in the body, and thus become
as "a city set upon a hill, that could not be hid."
p. 1THE ANNUAL
MONITOR. OBITUARY.
Age. Time of Decease.
Hannah Abbott, Thorley, Essex.
88 11mo. 19 1849
Martha Ady, London. 81 3mo. 23 1850
Elizabeth Airey, Kendal. Widow.
81 5mo. 6 1850
William Alderson, Winterscale,
Garsdale, Yorkshire. 69 5mo. 2 1850
Rebecca Alexander, Goldrood,
Ipswich. Widow of Samuel Alexander. 72 12mo. 13 1849
Edward Alexander, Limerick. Son of the
late Edward Alexander. 20 2mo. 1 1850
Joseph Allen, Dunmow, Essex. A
Minister. 76 9mo. 21 1849
p. 2Sarah Allen, Bristol. A Minister. 77 6mo.
1 1850
Eleanor Allen, Ballitore. Wife of Henry
Allen. 49 3mo. 4 1850
Ann Allis, Bristol. Wife of Hagger
Allis. 65 8mo. 30 1850
John Allison, Durham. 57 6mo. 1
1850
Robert Alsop, Maldon, Essex. A
Minister. 72 7mo. 21 1850
Sophia Appleton, Stoke Newington. Wife
of John Appleton. 49 3mo. 28 1850
William Ashby, Hounslow. 61 1mo. 7
1850
Hannah C. Backhouse, Polam Hill,
Darlington. A Minister. Widow of Jonathan Backhouse. {2}
63 5mo. 6 1850
George Baker, Askham Field,
York. An Elder. 71 1mo. 26 1850
He was one who remembered his Creator in the days of his youth, and who
proved in his own experience, that "the fear of the Lord" is not only "the
beginning of wisdom," but that it is also "a fountain of life preserving from
the snares of death." His earnest desire was to be found walking
acceptably before God; and while a p. 3young man, he became greatly distressed at being
overcome by drowsiness in meetings for worship. On one occasion, when this
had been the case, he retired to a secluded spot, under a hedge, where, with
many tears, he poured forth his prayers for deliverance from this
besetment. Many years afterwards, when accompanying a friend on a
religious visit to the families of that meeting, he pointed out the place, and
remarked with expressions of gratitude, that from that time, he did not remember
having been overcome in the same manner.
He was deeply impressed with the words of his Saviour: "All things whatsoever
ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them," and he so carried
this precept out into practice, as to become remarkable for his uprightness of
character, and for his consideration for others.
The following circumstances present instructive examples of the kindly
sympathy of this "good Samaritan:"
On the occurrence of a malignant fever, in one of the eastern dales of
Yorkshire, while he resided in that district, he left his own home for several
weeks, to nurse some of his neighbours who had p. 4become affected with the disease,
devoting his whole time to the sick, while dread of infection rendered it
difficult for him to obtain assistance in this office of mercy.
After his removal into the neighbourhood of York, and at a time when many
persons were returning past his premises from a contested Election, and some of
them so much intoxicated as to be incapable of taking care of themselves;
fearing lest any severe accident should befall them while in this condition, he
took several of them from the highway, and lodged them in one of his outhouses,
dismissing them on the following morning with suitable but kind
admonition. And when numbers of the Irish poor were driven from their own
country by famine, and wandered about in this land "for lack of bread," he
sheltered many of them in his out-buildings and ministered to their
necessities.
George Baker occupied the station of Elder for many years, exercising a
fatherly care in the church, and extending counsel or encouragement, as he saw
occasion, with a simplicity and godly sincerity which gave him great place
amongst his friends. He was often applied to by his p. 5neighbours for counsel, and as a
peace-maker; and in serving them was remarkable for his patience, self-denial,
and success. In his latter years, his powers both of body and mind failed
greatly, in consequence of an accident which he met with, while in the pursuit
of his occupation as a farmer; but having "worked while it was day," he was
preserved through a period which might be spoken of as "a night, in which no man
could work;" so that love, that badge of discipleship with Christ, shone
brightly in his last moments, as from under the margin of a dark cloud, and a
solemn feeling of peace with God, through Jesus Christ, pervaded his dying
hours.
Elizabeth G. Barclay, Walthamstow.
Daughter of Joseph G. Barclay. 2 8mo. 31 1849
Robert Barker, Cheadle,
Manchester. 62 9mo. 28 1850
Thomas Baynes, Bainbridge,
Yorkshire. 70 5mo. 14 1850
Thomas Beakbane, Liverpool. 50 4mo. 14
1850
Rachel Beeby, Allonby. 65 12mo. 15
1849
Mary Anne Bell, Belfast. Daughter of
Thomas and Sarah Bell. 39 2mo. 23 1850
p. 6Mary Benington, Wakefield. A Minister.
Wife of George Benington. 55 6mo. 8 1850
Elizabeth Bennis, Clonmel. Daughter of
the late William Bennis of Limerick. 16 2mo. 24 1850
Phœbe Bent, Sutton-in-Ashfield,
Nottinghamshire. Widow of Joseph Bent of Stockport. 85 8mo.
15 1850
Elizabeth Bentley, Ipswich. Daughter of
Thomas F. and Maria Bentley. 16 11mo. 28 1849
Mary Benwell, Sidcot. 50 1mo. 13
1850
Elizabeth Bewley, Rockville,
Dublin. Daughter of Thomas and Rebecca Bewley. 3 1mo. 16
1850
William Binns, Poole. An Elder.
81 4mo. 10 1850
We have often had to observe, that many of our friends, who have lived to a
good old age, and who have been loved and honoured in their respective stations,
as upright pillars in the church, have left but few written memorials of their
course for the instruction of others; whilst encompassed with infirmities, and
looking for the help of the p. 7Lord’s Spirit to resist their manifold temptations and
easily besetting sins, they have been enabled to pursue the even tenor of their
way, seeking through divine grace to fulfil the day’s work, in the day time, and
hoping to hear at last the call of mercy into one of the many mansions prepared
by Him, who has loved them and died for them. We love to dwell upon this
class of our departed friends, and without undervaluing those whose gifts have
been more prominent, or whom circumstances have rendered more conspicuous in our
pages, we sincerely desire that these more hidden, but not less valuable parts
of the spiritual building, may ever be honoured amongst us. Such an one
was our late friend, William Binns. It was during his apprenticeship that,
under the ministry of two women friends, engaged in a family visit, he was
powerfully awakened to the eternal interests of his soul, and through divine
grace, the impression made, was of so decided a character, that putting his hand
to the Christian plough, he looked not back.
He was greatly concerned for the true welfare of our religious Society, and
in the district in which he resided was eminently useful; caring
p. 8for the flock
over which the good Shepherd had made him an overseer.
Sterling integrity and uprightness marked his character; his judgment was
clear and sound, and was frequently given in comprehensive and pertinent
language, free from all superfluous expression.
He took a very low estimate of his own attainments, and was humbled under a
sense of his shortcomings; as the shadows of evening were closing around him, he
frequently and feelingly intimated, that there was for him, but one ground of
faith and hope, the free mercy of God in Jesus Christ his Saviour; such was the
subject of his frequent expression to his friends, and they rejoice in the
belief that having in his long pilgrimage taken up his cross, and sought above
all things to follow Christ, so in the end he was prepared to enter into the
eternal joys of his Lord.
George Binns, Bradford. 52 8mo. 26
1850
Emma Binns, Sunderland. Daughter of
Henry Binns. 6 8mo. 22 1850
William Black, Cockermouth. 71 9mo. 20
1849
Joseph Black, Lisburn. 22 5mo. 23
1850
p. 9Thomas Bowry, Stepney. 67 4mo. 27 1850
Robert Wm. Brightwen,
Newcastle-on-Tyne. Son of Charles Brightwen. 4 3mo. 6
1850
Thomas Brown, Cirencester. A
Minister. 84 10mo. 13 1849
Amelia Brown, Luton. A Minister.
Wife of Richard Marks Brown. 62 12mo. 7 1849
This beloved friend was privileged beyond many in the pious care exercised in
her religious training. She became early acquainted with the teachings of
divine grace, and from childhood, appears highly to have valued the holy
scriptures. It was frequently her practice to set apart some portion of
the day for private retirement and meditation, and in thus seeking to wait upon
the Lord for the renewal of her spiritual strength, she was favoured to know
"times of refreshing," and a growth in "pure and undefiled religion."
She loved the truth in sincerity, and her mind was enriched in the
instructive contemplation of its order, excellence and beauty, and the benign
and salutary influence it has on those who obey its requisitions: fervently she
craved for an increase of faith and strength, that she might be found among the
"called, and chosen, and faithful." p. 10"I felt," she remarks on one
occasion, "as if I could make any sacrifice called for; the language of my mind
is almost continually, what shall I render unto the Lord for all his
benefits."
Under the apprehension that it would be required of her publicly to bear
testimony to the power and sufficiency of divine grace, her mind was greatly
humbled, and under the pressure of religious exercise, she thus records her
feelings: "Sweetly tendered in my room, and craved for strength, fully and
unreservedly, to yield all to Him, who still in mercy visits me; if consistent
with divine goodness, may my mind be more illuminated, that I may more clearly
distinguish between my own will and the Lord’s requirings." She was
recorded a minister in 1823; and on this important event she observes: "Feeling
some quietude, humble desires are prevalent that I may indeed be watchful.
Dearest Lord! be pleased to hear my feeble though sincere aspirations after
increasing strength and wisdom. Thou knowest that I feel awfully fearful
lest I should bring any shade on thy blessed cause."
Her connection in married life, introduced her into a large family, the
duties of which she cheerfully p. 11performed with maternal solicitude, and she became
closely united in bonds of affection to the several branches of the domestic
circle, anxiously promoting their religious and moral welfare.
In ministry, this dear friend was pertinent and edifying, at times close and
searching; in the exercise of her gift, she travelled at different intervals in
several of the English counties. In the summer of 1848 her health began to
decline; her demeanour under pain and suffering evinced her humble dependence
upon the Lord, and the language of her soul was, "not my will, but thine, oh
Father, be done!" Some alleviation was permitted, and she so far recovered
as to be able to assemble with her friends for divine worship; on these
occasions, her communications evinced her undiminished interest in the cause of
truth and righteousness. In the last meeting she attended, she bowed the
knee in solemn supplication, craving for herself and those present, the
attainment of perfect purity and holiness, and that this might be the chief
concern of their lives. A few days after, she was seized with paralysis,
and although consciousness was not entirely effaced, she said but little; she
retained a grateful p.
12sense of her many mercies, and a fervent affection towards her husband
and near connections. Gradually declining, she passed away as falling into
a sweet sleep, and we cannot doubt exchanged the tribulations of time, for the
blissful joys of eternity.
Joseph Standin Brown, Hitchin. 60 6mo.
27 1850
Sarah Brown, Preston Crowmarsh,
Oxon. Wife of Richard M. Brown, junior. 36 3mo. 31 1850
George Brumell, Scotby. 72 2mo. 23
1850
Ash Budge, Camborne, Redruth.
Wife of John Budge. 53 4mo. 10 1850
In an unexpected hour, and in the enjoyment of usual health, it pleased our
heavenly Father to lay his hand of affliction upon this dear friend, and after a
severe illness of about four weeks, to gather her, as we reverently believe,
into "the rest which remaineth for the people of God."
It appears, that in early life, "the grace which bringeth salvation," wrought
effectually in her heart, so that her surviving relatives cannot recall the time
when the fear of God did not influence her conduct; her pious mother, who for
many p. 13years
filled the station of Elder in our Society; was deeply interested in the
religious welfare of her children, and earnestly sought, in the morning of their
day, to imbue their minds with the principles and precepts of the gospel of
Christ, and her labours of love in reference to this beloved daughter were
graciously owned. From her childhood, she was more than commonly dutiful
and affectionate to her parents, rarely giving them any cause for uneasiness; an
aged grandmother also, who resided for many years with them, she waited on with
such tender care, as to call forth the expression of her belief, that a blessing
would rest on her on that account.
Great meekness, tenderness, and humility clothed her mind, not only
throughout the season of her affliction, but for a long course of previous
years, binding her in very tender bonds to her husband and children, as well as
to her other endeared relatives and friends.
It appears, from the first day on which her illness assumed a more serious
character, that an impression pervaded her mind, that it would be unto death,
and accompanying this impression, a deep and earnest desire for entire
resignation to p.
14the divine will; and this desire was graciously answered; for during
the period of her illness, her resignation, and consequent tranquillity, were
indeed remarkable; attended by a precious measure of "the peace of God which
passeth all understanding." So fully was this the case, and so little of
the appearance of death accompanied her illness, that a lively hope of her
restoration to health, was, even to the last day of her life, earnestly
cherished by those around her, and in addition to this, such was the nature of
her disease, that great stillness and uninterrupted rest were considered
necessary; thus circumstanced, whilst both her mind, and their minds, were
abundantly satisfied with the precious evidence of the love of God in Christ
Jesus, shed abroad in her heart, they were not anxious for much expression, or
careful to commit to writing what, from season to season, fell from her lips;
feeling that her mind "wore thanksgiving to her Maker."
She evinced, throughout her married life, a deep interest in the well-being
of her tenderly beloved children, making it her frequent practice to spend some
portion of her time in retirement with them, in reading the holy scriptures and
in p. 15prayer; and
this interest increasingly appeared as she lay on the bed of affliction, having
them daily in her chamber, and again and again, in tender affection, impressing
on their minds the importance of divine and eternal things, urging them to walk
in the way of God’s commandments, and to regard his favour and approbation as
the one thing, beyond all other things, necessary both to their present peace
and everlasting salvation: similar counsel was also extended to the other
members of her household and family, to the friends who kindly visited her, to
her medical attendants, and to her neighbours. More might be said in
reference to the Christian graces which marked the character of this beloved
friend, but the object is not to magnify the creature, but to set forth the
excellency and sufficiency of the "grace which is from God our Father, and the
Lord Jesus Christ," and by the effectual operation of which, she was what she
was. The last words she addressed to her tenderly beloved husband were:
"All is well:" and again, shortly before the final close: "My foundation is on
the Rock;" that Rock, we undoubtingly believe, which "no tempest
overthrows."
p. 16Rebecca Candler, East Hill, Colchester.
55 5mo. 8 1850
Sarah Carson, Liverpool. Wife of
William Carson. 59 2mo. 21 1850
Hannah Carter, Preston. Daughter of
Thomas and Mary Carter. 4 7mo. 12 1850
Hannah Casson, Hull. Daughter of
Benjamin Casson. 14 8mo. 22 1850
Hannah Catlin, London. Died at
York. 62 3mo. 26 1850
William Chantler, Lewes. 78 2mo. 15
1850
Daniel Chapman, Reeth. 24 12mo. 29
1849
William Cheselden, Ipswich. 85 12mo. 17
1849
John Christmas, Colne near Earith. 87
7mo. 7 1850
Mary Christy, Woodbank, Lurgan.
Daughter of the late John Christy, of Stramore. 33 1mo. 23 1850
Thomas Clark, Bridgewater. A
Minister. 91 6mo. 16 1850
Samuel Clark, Lower Grange,
Ireland. 68 12mo. 28 1849
Joseph Clark, Southampton. An
Elder. 85 5mo. 25 1850
p. 17Susan Clemes, Ackworth. Daughter of Samuel and
Jane Clemes. 1 4mo. 1 1850
John Barclay Clibborn, Duner Mills,
Clonmel. 80 3mo. 22 1850
Joshua Coleby, Alton. An Elder.
73 3mo. 25 1850
Mary Cooke, Liverpool. Widow of John
Cooke. 68 12mo. 9 1849
Mary Cooper, Brighouse. A
Minister. Widow of Thomas Cooper. 79 4mo. 20 1850
Martha Cooper, Lockwood,
Huddersfield. Widow of John Cooper, of Brighouse. 65 9mo. 14
1849
Joseph Coventry, Stoke Newington. 70
2mo. 17 1850
Elizabeth Crapp, Truro. 64 1mo. 22
1850
Mary Crawe, Norwich. Widow of Spicer
Crawe. 77 3mo. 8 1850
Tabitha Crosland, Bradford. Wife of
Robert Crosland. 45 10mo. 29 1849
Rachel Curchin, Ipswich. Died at
York. 50 1mo. 20 1850
William Curtis, Alton. 79 10mo. 13
1849
Francis Darby, Sunniside,
Coalbrookdale. 67 3mo. 20 1850
p. 18Samuel Davis, Aldershaw, Garsdale,
Yorkshire. 81 5mo. 30 1850
Edwin Dawes, Stoke Newington. 38 10mo.
27 1849
Anna Maria Day, Saffron Walden. 68
11mo. 8 1849
Gulielma Deane, Reigate. Daughter of
James and Sarah Deane. 18 11mo. 4 1849
Sarah (Sally) Deaves, Eglantine, Cork. Daughter of
Reuben and Sarah Deaves. 22 10mo. 3 1849
The sudden death, by Cholera, of this dear young friend, caused at the time a
very lively emotion among a wide circle of friends. She was the only and
much beloved child of her bereaved parents;—naturally of a most amiable
disposition, and of that lively temperament which gives a peculiar zest to life
and all its passing enjoyments, she diffused around her somewhat of the buoyancy
and sunshine which seemed ever to attend her own steps. Thus attractive
and admired, and drinking largely of the cup of present pleasures, the thoughts
of the future appear to have had but little place in her mind. In a state
of excellent health, she had gone to p. 19Mountmelick to pass a few weeks with some near
relatives, when she was seized with the disorder which, in a few hours, closed
her life. Those hours were passed in much bodily suffering, but sorer
still were the conflicts of her mind. The scales which had prevented her
from seeing the real worth of life and the awful realities of the future, at
once fell from her eyes, and she saw or rather felt with indescribable
clearness, that the great truths which appertain to the welfare of the soul
belong alike to the young and the healthy, to the sick and the dying. She
saw that she had been living to herself and not to God, and this, whatever
particulars she might lament, was the heavy burden of her awakened spirit.
In the depths of contrition, and in the earnestness of faith, she was enabled to
pray to her heavenly Father, and Saviour, to draw near and to have mercy upon
her.
Thus passed some hours never to be forgotten. The rapid progress of her
disease hardly allowed time for much further mental exercise or
expression. She sank into a state of quietude of body and of mind.
And when all was over, the sorrowing parents were condoled in the hope, that p. 20the prayers of
their beloved child had been heard, through the mercy of Him who never turned
away his ear from the truly repentant suppliant.
What lessons does this brief narrative offer to survivors. Awfully does
it speak to the children of pleasure, of the inestimable value of the soul—of
the importance of time—of the folly of living in forgetfulness of God, and
unmindful of their high destiny as immortal beings. What a light does it
throw on the responsibility of parents; and whilst affording no encouragement to
delay in the hope of a death-bed repentance, what a view does it open of the
infinite mercy of our heavenly Father in Christ Jesus.
Martha Dell, Birmingham. Widow of
Joseph H. Dell, of Earls Colne. 78 4mo. 30 1850
Samuel Dickinson, Denbydale,
Highflatts, Yorkshire. 79 2mo. 19 1850
Edward Doubleday, Harrington Square,
Westminster. 38 11mo. 14 1849
Isabella Dowbiggin, Preston.
Widow. 75 7mo. 26 1850
Joseph Doyle, Calledon,
Kilconnor. 60 7mo. 6 1850
Footnote:
{2}
See Memoir at the end of the Obituary.