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in business, sincere in friendship, modest in prosperity, resigned in adversity, patient in sickness, and peculiarly kind and affectionate as a husband, a father and a brother. The remembrance of his public services and virtues will probably soon descend to the same tomb, which is yearly consigning to oblivion the patriots and heroes of the American revolution, but the memory of his private virtues will never die in the hearts of his family and friends.
DIED-In the Alms-house of this city, on the 5th instant, Elizabeth Starky, in the 84th year of her age. She was a native of the United States; and, after having passed through many trials, was obliged for some years to make her home at the Alms-house, where she always maintained a decent, orderly deportment. Till the latter part of her life, however, she had but little thought about the salvation of her soul. Then it pleased the Lord to awaken her as from the sleep of death, to see in what a ruined state she was by nature and by practice. Thus alarmed, she attended carefully upon the means of grace provided in the house, and to reading the Bible, and such other good books as she could obtain. But the more closely she attended, the more she discovered of the depravity of her heart, that it was deceitful and desperately wicked. Being often asked by one who attended worship there, what was the state of her mind, she would reply, "Oh I have such a hard heart I know not what to do," the tears at the same time flowing down her old wrinkled cheeks. At length, by weeping and reading, her eyes became greatly inflamed. She was then advised not to read so constantly, but to try to meditate on the way of salvation through Jesus Christ, who came to seek and to save the lost; and to pour out her heart in prayer to the Lord who only could relieve her. She afterwards acknowledged that this advice had been blessed to her; for while she was thus engaged, the blessed spirit of God, who had convinced her of sin and brought her to despair of all help in herself, led her to behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of all who believe in him, and enabled her so to commit her helpless soul to him as to obtain sweet rest and peace. She was indeed filled with comfort, rejoicing in Jesus as her precious Saviour, and, from time to time, had the exceeding great and precious promises of God's word, which are all yea and amen in Christ Jesus, so ap
plied to her soul, that she often said, Although very weak in body, yet I feel so happy that I am well every way." For the greater part of the time after her conversion she had an abiding hope of life eternal. But the adversary, who loves to worry those whom he cannot devour, tried to destroy her hope a few days before her end. Then, she said, he had cast his fiery darts at her and almost driven her to despair; but that Jesus had relieved her and given her comfort again, and she hoped he would not suffer her to be tried in this manner any more. From this time the powers of her nature seemed to sink fast, and she became very weak. Desiring to see one who led in the religious exercises of the house, and whose instructions and exhortations had been blessed to her soul, upon his coming and speaking to her, she roused up her feeble powers, returned him many thanks for the attention he had paid to her, and then declared to a large collection of her companions in the house, who came as near as they could, what the Lord had done for her soul; and told them that she had an humble hope that the Lord Jesus would receive her to rest with him in glory. The minds of these poor people were much affected to hear from dying lips the strong expressions of joy and consolation which she uttered. After she had done speaking in this manner, the person before mentioned, at her request, prayed with her, and then gave an exhortation to those who were collected around. She remained composed and solemn, for nearly one day longer, and then she expired without any appearance of pain or uneasiness. Thus a gracious God appeared to fulfil in her his merciful decla ration that he hath chosen some of the poor of this world to be "rich in faith and heirs of his kingdom." Few examples are seen of persons brought home to God at such an advanced period of life as this poor woman had reached when a work of saving grace was, it is hoped, wrought on her soul. But a single instance of this kind, while it should not encourage any to presume on the pa tience of a sovereign God, should teach us not utterly to despair even of those who remain out of the vineyard of the Lord till the eleventh hour: and it must give peculiar pleasure to those who have been endeavouring to afford a fuller sup ply of the means of grace to the charitable institutions of our city than for a long time they enjoyed, to see that God appears to have owned and blessed them in a case almost as unpromising as any that could have been found.
From the Connecticut Evangelical Magazine.
DIED-Of a pulmonic consumption, at sea, on the passage from Norfolk to Charleston, bound southward on a jour. ney for his health, in the 39th year of his age, and the 11th of his ministry, the Rev. Joseph Washburn, pastor of the church of Christ in the first society in Farmington. His death, which happened on the morning of the 25th of December last, was serene and peaceful; and he expired, in the arms of Mrs. Washburn, without a struggle or a groan. Oppressed with grief too big for utterance, and tossed with a tempest for several days in extreme danger, she arrived safe at Charleston, the 4th of January. Whether the remains of our deceased friend were carried to Charleston, and there interred, or committed to the sea, we are not yet informed". He left four young children, all too young to be fully sensible of their loss, irrepara
Recent accounts, received in this city, inform us, that all proper means were used to preserve the body for interment at Charleston. These means were ineffectual, and the corpse was committed to the sea. ED.
If the following verses should be thought worthy of a place in the Assembly's Magazine, please to insert them. I am, yours, &c.
WHEN Innocence in Eden dwelt,
ble as it is by any earthly comfort. The people, lately his charge, deeply feel this stroke of divine Providence, by which they are deprived of the labours of their beloved pastor, in the meridian of life; and his brethren in the ministry, to whom his character is known, will lament the loss of one of their number whose praise is in the churches.
But when they stretch'd the daring hand
Did eat-and broke the Lord's command;
The bless'd Inspirer fled.
Divine converse they know no more;
Mr. Washburn was one of the Editors of this Magazine, and until called off from his labours by sickness, a faithful and highly useful member of the publishing committee. The Editors condole with his afflicted family, the bereaved church and congregation, and his numerous friends, to whom he was so deservedly dear, under this visitation of a holy and righteous Providence. May the people of his charge remember the truths he has delivered, and the warnings he has given them; that they may meet him with joy at the judgment day! And may his surviving brethren in the ministry, be animated to renewed zeal in their Master's service, that they may receive the plaudit of, "Well done good and faithful servants!"
The memory of the just shall be had in remembrance."
Beguile adversity's dark, dreary road,
rest; Subdue these sighs, these agonies, these fears, Banish these sad regrets, these fruitless
Come with thy bright attendants from above,
Grace all serene, and peace with smiles of love;
Breathe on my soul the woe-subduing balm, And through my heart diffuse a holy calm;
Bid resignation ease th' oppressing care, And patience mild, her load unmurm'ring bear;
Bid bright-ey'd virtue gild the darken'd
A widowed Mother's address to her Infant. Ah! thou sweet innocent! whose early day Misfortune shrouded, cheerless and forlorn,
No tender father gaz'd with fondest care, Or pour'd forth blessings on thine infant head,
Caught from thy mother's glist'ning eye
Which love, and sympathy, and rapture shed.
Thoughtless of care, and ignorant of ill, Soft peace, and innocence, and ease are thine;
Sweet thou canst sleep, while fondly gazing still,
To feel, to suffer, to regret, are mine.
Oh! while I hold thee to my widow'd breast,
What keen sensations rise, and mingle there,
Fain would the sigh of anguish be suppress'd
In the soft fondness of maternal care.
For, bless'd be heaven who heard my ardent pray'r,
Spar'd thy dear life, and gave thee to my
Gave me thy smiles, the lonely hour to cheer, When ev'ry earthly joy had lost its charms.
LIFE OF THE REV. WILLIAM TENNENT.
[Continued from page 103.]
THE writer of these memoirs was greatly interested by these uncommon events; and, on a favourable occasion, earnestly pressed Mr. Tennent for a minute account of what his views and apprehensions were, while he lay in this extraordinary state of suspended animation. He discovered great reluctance to enter into any explanation of his perceptions and feelings at this time; but, being importunately urged to do it, he at length consented, and proceeded with a solemnity not to be described.
"While I was conversing with my brother," said he, “on the state of my soul, and the fears I had entertained for my future welfare, I found myself, in an instant, in another state of existence, under the direction of a superior being, who ordered me to follow him. I was accordingly wafted along, I know not how, till I beheld at a distance an ineffable glory, the impression of which on my mind it is impossible to communicate to mortal man. I immediately reflected on my happy change, and thought,-Well, blessed be God! I am safe at last, notwithstanding all my fears. I saw an innumerable host of happy beings, surrounding the inexpressible glory, in acts of adoration and joyous worship; but I did not see any bodily shape or representation in the glorious appearance. I heard things unutterable. I heard their songs and hallelujahs, of thanksgiving and praise, with unspeakable rapture. I felt joy unutterable and full of glory. I then applied to my conductor, and requested leave to join the happy throng. On which he tapped me on the shoulder, and said, 'You must return to the VOL. II. T
earth.' This seemed like a sword through my heart. In an instant I recollect to have seen my brother standing before me, disputing with the doctor. The three days during which I had appeared lifeless, seemed to me not more than ten or twenty minutes. The idea of returning to this world of sorrow and trouble, gave me such a shock, that I fainted repeatedly." He added, "Such was the effect on my mind of what I had seen and heard, that if it be possible for a human being to live entirely above the world. and the things of it, for some time afterwards I was that person. The ravishing sounds of the songs and hallelujahs that I heard, and the very words that were uttered, were not out of my ears, when awake, for at least three years. All the kingdoms of the earth were in my sight as nothing and vanity; and so great were my ideas of heavenly glory, that nothing which did not, in some measure, relate to it, could command my serious attention."*.
The author has been particularly solicitous to obtain every confir mation of this extraordinary event in the life of Mr. Tennent. He, accordingly, wrote to every person he could think of, likely to have conversed with Mr. T. on the subject. He received several answers; but the following letter from the worthy successor of Mr. Tennent, in the pastoral charge of his church, will answer for the author's purpose.
Monmouth, New-Jersey, Dec. 10, 1805.
Agreeably to your request, I now send you in writing the remarkable account, which I sometime since gave you verbally, respecting your good friend, my worthy predecessor, the late Rev. William Tennent, of this place. In a very free and feeling conversation on religion, and on the future rest and blessedness of the people of God, (while travelling together from Monmouth to Princeton) I mentioned to Mr. Tennent that I should be highly gratified in hearing, from his own mouth, an account of the Trance which he was said to have been in, unless the relation would be disagreeable to himself. After a short silence, he proceeded, saying, that he had been sick with a fever; that the fever increased, and he by degrees sunk under it. After some time (as his friends informed him) he died, or appeared to die, in the same manner as persons usually do; that in laying him out, one happened to draw his hand under the left arm, and perceived a small tremor in the flesh; that he was laid out, and was cold and stiff. The time for his funeral was appointed and the people collected; but a young doctor, his particular friend, pleaded with great earnestness that he might not then be buried, as the tremor under the arm continued; that his brother, Gilbert, became impatient with the young gentleman, and said to him,' What! a man not dead who is cold and stiff as a stake! The importunate young friend, however, prevailed; another day was appointed for the burial,