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
Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)

***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.

 


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