as we believe, made him feel, "wo is me if I preach not the Gospel." He pursued the necessary preparatory studies, and was licensed to preach by the Presbytery of NewJersey at the early age of nineteen.

It was among his earnest wishes at this time, to devote himself to the work of a missionary of Christ to foreign lands. A lively zeal possessed him to bear the standard of the cross far away into the lands of the aliens, to bring them under the saving dominion of his Lord. With a happy emulation of the example of Brainerd, he would have prayed to become a star, where the wilderness embosoms in its darkness the path of life, and the tomb of death to its wandering inhabitants. But the providence of God set up insuperable obstacles to the fulfilment of these wishes, and led him to make his first essay in the work of a minister of Christ in the spot where I now stand. He was then not twenty years of age, and you remember the enchanting appearance of his youth, the gracefulness of his manner, the elegance of his diction, the melody of his voice, and the eloquence of his thought. For myself, I must confess I have never known the man who filled the sacred desk with more propriety than he filled it, or who in the judgment of an intelligent, refined auditory, was more deservedly popular.

You soon selected him to be your pastor. He came a stripling into this most arduous field with only the God of David for his sufficient support. The rest you know. You know all the trials of his life, the circuit of his labour, the measure of his success. But you do not know the tears with which his couch has been watered, while he lamented over such multitudes who rejected his message; while he bewailed the lethargy of professors of Christ's name among you, while he saw evils he could not remedy, and poisons circulating which he knew must kill. You can never know to the true extent, how his heart rose in inexpressible emotion, when he felt the weight of his responsibility, and saw so many in this ancient fortress of the faith, in the condition of the church at Laodicea, and liable to the same commination. At length it pleased God to hear his prayer, and about two years since, there was a partial out-pouring of the Holy Spirit upon this people, over which we trust there was joy in heaven. But the harvest was short. The season and approach of yellow-fever turned this part of our city into desolation, and when the time of labour returned, the soil had hardened, and little fruit was subsequently reaped from all the seed that was sown. Still, the spiritual interests of this church daily improved, and your pastor became more abundant in labours. Since that time until he was suddenly arrested, the concern of his friends

and the advice of his physician could not restrain him from working while it is called to-day. He has answered already for the manner, you are yet to answer for the effect of those labours.

But I hasten to the last weeks of his life.

In the month of March, he unexpectedly ruptured a blood-vessel, and the hemorrhage was so great that his life was considered in immediate danger. He gradually recovered so as to be able to take a journey, but the eventual consequence of this affliction we now deplore. His mind was singularly calm from the first moment in view of his probable departure. His apprehension of the saving power of the doctrines he had inculcated was unclouded, and his confidence in Christ, our righteousness and strength, unshaken.

During the few days just before his death, he continued to express himself with unabated hope in the fountain of mercy which Christ has opened by his own blood. When apprised of his immediate danger, he said, "his own hopes of recovery had been feeble ;" and when questioned as to his present views of this world and the next, he said, that, "though he could not boast of an unusual share of animal courage, yet he feared not the approach of death, if his labours were ended." At this period his mind appeared more than ever to be tenderly exercised for the spiritual welfare of his charge. He remarked, that, "if it were given to him to see the Spirit of God once poured out upon this church, and he could be in a frame of mind suitable to it for a season, then he could gladly depart." Upon being asked in what peculiar aspect the heavenly world appeared to him now, and what encouraged his hopes, he remarked that "the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, made known the hope of his calling, and the riches of the glory of his inheritance in the saints and his mighty power which he wrought in Christ when he raised him from the dead, and set him at his own right hand in the heavenly places." Among his dying exercises, the reading a portion of the 14th chapter of John's gospel had a place; and he again said, "he had no desire to remain, if his work was concluded."

Upon being asked three days before his death, as to the clearness of his views and hopes, he communicated, that "although his mind was not filled with any distressing doubts, yet he had not that fulness of consolation which he desired." But the shadows gradually departed as he approached the light of eternity, until toward the close of life he used the strong language that "he had not a doubt." Among his last expressions, he was heard to say, "the Lord Jesus is near. The will of the Lord be done!"

His patience in his sufferings was wonder

ful; and the most delightful humility characterized his dying thoughts. Indeed this humility-this meek, submissive frame of soul-this childlike receiving the precious consolations of the gospel and foretastes of the kingdom of heaven, are particularly to be noticed. He spoke of "his own unworthiness as a sinner"-of the "great imperfection with which he had served his Master," in most affecting terms; but said his "desire was rather to depart, if it were God's will."

He retained his consciousness, and the perfect exercise of his faculties to the last instant of time that the soul inhabited its clay; and the love of Christ, and peace of God, and light of heaven, rested on him with increasing brightness to the latest moment.

When he took his farewell of his babe, and could do no more than lay his hand upon it, with strong emotion he uttered, "God be his father for ever and for ever!" And when he parted with his wife, and could no longer speak, he took her hand and pressed it, and pointed with the other to heaven. And thus he died!

Yes, thus he departed, in the 30th year of his age, leaving a wife and two children, a numerous circle of relatives and friends, a beloved church and congregation, to bleed at the heart at each remembrance of his removal. God grant his blessing and guidance to the two little ones, before whom, in the course of life, all dangers and trials stand! May the end show that the bosom of the church and the rest which Christ hath purchased, remain for them!

But enough of this interesting and melancholy review. However precious his memory, his excellencies as a man, and a minister of the gospel, do but embitter the cup which our heavenly Father calls us to drink. "The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away, and blessed be the name of the Lord!"

*For a particular account of this family, see appendix to Life of Col. Gardner.'

He

the established church of Scotland. trained up his children in habits of piety, and poured instruction on their minds, more in the persuasive accents of a friend, than with the authority of a father. In this, his son resembled him much.

The subject of this sketch was the youngest of four children, who reached maturity, and was designed by his father for the ministry; but his father dying when he was only 14 years of age, the plan was relinquished. He pursued his education, however, and improved his mind by general reading, until the age of 18 years. Not wishing to be burdensome to his mother and sisters, and following the example of Highland youths, he determined to seek independence in a foreign country. He parted with his mother and sisters in the year 1789. His mother has been often heard to say, that it was the first time he had ever cost her a pang. His destination was the Island of Tobago, where his only brother, eleven years older than himself, practised medicine. Dr. Bethune, on the arrival of his brother, immediately looked out a situation for him on an estate as overseer, in the prospect of his becoming a planter; but the Lord had purposes of mercy towards him, and inclined the heart of a gentleman to procure him a situation in a counting-house, which he much preferred. To this period of his life, Mr. Bethune often looked back with thankfulness, not only that, he had never been permitted to traffic in human flesh, but that restraining grace had prevented him from running to the same excess of riot and dissipation, as his companions around him, thirteen of whom were consigned to an early grave, during two years that he remained on the island. He, however, was seized with the fever of the climate, which so debilitated him, that his brother sent him to this country for the restoration of his health. He spent some months in Portsmouth, New-Hampshire. The similarity of manners to those of his native country, and the comparative innocence of the habits of the people, made him return to Tobago with reluctance. He wrote a letter to his mother giving an account of the different state of society in the two countries, which soon brought a command to quit the island and either return to Scotland, or remove to the United States, where he would be under the sound of the gospel, and would not be required to profane the Sabbath, which he was compelled to do in Tobago, it being the greatest day of sale. His brother used every endeavour to prevent him from leaving the island. The gentleman in whose employ he was, offered him partnership at the end of another year, provided he would remain.

Mr. Bethune arrived in Portsmouth some

time in 1792, and immediately set out for this city. Although he was not at that time decidedly religious, yet he was seriously exercised, and felt a horror of profanity and vice. He had been the subject of religious impressions from a very early period in life. As early as nine years of age, he was visited with convictions produced by means of a severe fit of sickness, which, however, wore away when he returned to health, but not without leaving a tenderness of conscience which served to guard him against many of the snares and vices of youth. His situation as a stranger in a strange land, would naturally induce very serious reflections in the mind of one whose heart had not been altogether corrupted by sinful attachments. Accordingly, such was the effect which it had upon him, and so strong and deep were the impressions which by this means it pleased the Spirit of God to make on his mind, that while waiting for the stage at Norwalk, Conn. on the Sabbath, he wandered along the banks of a stream into a wood; he felt himself indeed a stranger in a strange land; early associations crowded on his mind; he knelt down by a stone, and like Jacob, vowed "If God will be with me in this way that I go, and will give me bread to eat and raiment to put on, so that I come again to my father's house in peace, then shall the Lord be my God."

He had but one acquaintance in this city, and into his employment he entered. The Lord accepted of the dedication of his young servant, and his mind gradually opened to the divine truth.-The late Mrs. Isabella Graham was the first person to whom he opened his mind on the subject of his own personal religion. She led him to her pastor, who afterwards became his intimate friend, the Rev. Dr. J. M. Mason, under whose preaching he was brought to the enjoyment of that liberty wherewith Christ makes his people free. In 1793-4, he joined in communion with the Associate Reformed Church, and in 1802 was ordained an elder of that church. He continued in that connexion until the Rev. Dr. Mason resigned his pastoral charge. Mr. Bethune then removed to the Presbyterian Church, under the pastoral care of the Rev. Dr. Romeyn, where he continued an active officer until translated to the church above.

Mr. B. entered on his mercantile life, December, 1794. His first partner was Mr. John Lewis Vanden Enden; he was a truly pious man, and a member of the Reformed Dutch Church. On the 1st of July following he married Miss Joanna Graham, to whom he had long been attached, the daughter of his spiritual mother, the late Mrs. Isabella Graham, and in August of the same year, he was attacked with yellow fever, and shortly after followed to the

grave his dear friend and partner, who fell a victim to that disease.

Mr. Bethune experienced many vicissitudes in his mercantile career; but in business he set the Lord always before him. From the time he professed the name of Christ, he kept a record of the Lord's dealings with him. When in any difficulty, he spread the matter before him; then looked out texts and promises suitable to his situation, recorded them in his book, and continued to plead them before the Lord until he received an answer, which he also recorded. Before there was a Tract Society in this country, he printed 10,000 tracts at his own expense, put them in a store for sale at cost, and never travelled without them; few were sold; he gave them to ministers and others travelling through the country. He likewise imported Bibles for distribution, in which he was aided by his mother, Mrs. G. From the year 1803 to 1816, he was at the sole expense of one or more Sunday Schools, and in many instances furnished the children with shoes. He set apart the tenth of his gains for the service of the Lord, but never limited himself;-that portion usually went to great undertakings ;—while minor calls were so answered, that the left hand knew not what the right hand did. He was at the formation of many, and took an active part in most of the charitable and religious institutions in this city; and was a liberal donor to those of his native land. He was a zealous friend to the Theological Seminaries of the Associate Reformed and Presbyterian churches. Like Job, "he delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him," and his family never was without them as inmates. The last day only will disclose the unwearied benevolence and holy zeal of this man of God.

Although Mr. Bethune had the appearance of vigorous health, he had many severe illnesses;-for two years previous to his decease his health evidently declined. During the last spring and summer his strength and flesh gradually failed; while he used every means for the restoration of his health, he seemed to anticipate the end of his labours, and set his house in order. He arrived at his home September 11th, from Saratoga Springs, and on the Saturday following his happy spirit took its flight. Wednesday morning he thus addressed his family Physician, "Doctor, you are acquainted with my constitution, I want you to examine me particularly, and to tell me whether you think I shall recover. I have all along doubted it, and am perfectly willing to go if it be the Lord's will. You have been in the habit of smoothing the dying beds of our family, and I wish you to be near mine." After the physicians left him

he told Mrs. B. he was perfectly willing to take their prescriptions, as they seemed to have a claim on him, but did not expect they would do any good; he felt his race was run,and wished to be permitted to depart. Mrs. B. asked him if he felt any pain? he answered, No. She asked him if his mind was easy? he replied, "O yes, O yes; glad should I be to be permitted to say nothing, but to go home." She said, "I have not been worthy of you." "O yes," he replied "but you have idolized a little; live near to God, and when he takes away your husband, my love, and your father, my dear children, he will be a husband and a father to you and to your children (naming his grand-children.) The promise is to you and your children." Mrs. B. said, "You have been a faithful father to them;" he said, "Yes, with all my folly I held fast by the covenant for them, and what is there but that covenant. Dear, dear children! I love my children, extending an hand to each of them and naming the absent one." Shortly after, he said "The Lord has been preparing me for this; he has been showing me the folly of my own heart and the wickedness of this world. O what a wicked, wicked world! I long to depart. I want to lean on my master's bosom, while passing through the dark valley. I wish my friends to help me through the valley by reading to me the word of God. I have not read much lately but the Bible; the Bible! the Bible! I want nothing but the Bible! O the light that has shone into my soul through the Bible." His son brought 'Mrs. Graham's provision for passing Jordan,' he said, "give me my Saviour's words, read the 14th of John. I want God's word; it is all truth; I love it;" after the chapter was read, he said, "Now leave me alone for a little while."

66

Mrs. B. mentioned to him on Thursday evening that there was a prayer-meeting of his fellow-church members, where he was made the subject of especial prayer; he said "O I am glad, that cheers me, I love to think that Christians are praying for me." Mrs. B. begged him to try and sleep; "Yes," said he, I wish to sleep, and O! I want the long sleep; all you who have your time of watching around my bed keep me still and asleep." Mrs. B. called to his remembrance a remark he had often quoted of his dear young friend, Mr. Summerfield, respecting Peter, "that when the church was praying for Peter, and heaven and hell were engaged about him, Peter was asleep." Seeing his son-in-law by his bedside, he laid his hand on his head, and said, " Preach the Gospel, my son." His own son coming in, he laid his hand upon his head and said, "Preach the Gospel, tell dying sinners of a Saviour; mind nothing else, it is all folly." "And you too, dear child," extending his

66

hand to Mrs. M'C., you have always been
a dutiful child to me." To Miss V. he said,
You, dear friend, who have been to me as a
daughter, I thank you for all your kindness;
the Lord will reward you; the blessings of
the God of Jacob will rest upon you; and
now I am tired, I want to rest." In the
night of Thursday he said to Mrs. B. "what
a strange disease this has been; how have
I been brought down by degrees till Tues-
day, when I seemed to go all at once. What
do the physicians think now? She replied
that they thought there was a possibility
that he might recover, and wished him to
take medicine and nourishment.
"And
what is my duty ?" she said, " to be passive
in the hands of the Lord." Soon after he
said, "O! Joanna pray for my soul, and
pray for my body that it may be easy while
passing through the valley. I wish no dis-
play, but let it be laid decently in the grave,
and O! do not praise me; praise the Sa-
viour. O what a Saviour! Blessed Saviour!
I want to go to my Saviour. Don't let any
thing be said over me when I am gone; too
much is said in praise of man; but let my
brethren sing the 146th Psalm, as expres-
sive of my dying exercises :-

"I'll praise my Maker while I've breath,
And when my voice is lost in death," &c.

Friday, Mrs. W. a faithful domestic coming in, he thus addressed her, "O! Mrs. W. dear friend, you have been kind to me, may the Lord reward you. You had the privilege of seeing one dear friend* depart to glory; now I trust you shall see another. I hope you have all chosen the Saviour." To Mr. A. a Christian friend, he said, “All that my Christian friends have to do for me now, is to pray that strength may be given me while passing through the dark valley." Mr. A. said, "God will not leave you now." "No, I trust my Saviour, I love him and he loves me: Oh! how wondrously he has loved me, no tongue can tell."

On Friday he said, "I have been disappointed, I thought before this to have been with my dear Saviour! my blessed, blessed Saviour!" Mr. M'C. answered, probability you will see him soon." he exclaimed,

"In all

"Yes,"

66 I hope so;" then pausing a moment he added, "I expect to take the lowest seat at the feet of my Redeemer." Shortly after, he asked if there was no one to pray with him? His wish was immediately complied with. During the prayer his spirit was evidently spreading her wings for flight, and he exclaimed as the prayer was closed, "O yes, it is true, all true and all precious." Then you find the Lord, your Redeemer, still near you," said Mr. M'C., "Yes," was his reply, as his faith rose in its full triumph, "the eternal God is my refuge,

*Mrs. Graham.

and underneath me are the everlasting arms." The same day he called his dear wife-she was near him-putting his arms round her, he said, "My dear Joanna, I want you to be near me while passing through the valley, and to comfort me with good words, O my dear wife let me go!" Shortly after, "I want the brightness of my Father's glory to take me home, and I want a dear wife to let me go." She said, the Lord's time is best, and whatever is his will I trust I shall be enabled to submit to. "Yes," he replied, "but still, but still!"-Supposing that he alluded to her praying for his recovery, she said, "My dear love, I am willing, since you desire it, to give you up to your Saviour." He seemed relieved, and again putting his arm around her, said, "You have always been a dear, kind wife to me." Mrs. B. mentioned the names of some Christian friends, and asked him if he wished to see them he replied, "The dear Shepherd's face is all I wish to see-but tell them all to pray for me; it is consoling to me to think they are praying for me: I want their prayers to help me through the dark valley." During the night of Friday, he kindly remembered all under his care in the countinghouse. On the morning of Saturday, a youth, his apprentice, came to see him ;he took him by the hand, and said, " dear Edward, I thought to have trained you for this world and the next; but the Lord will take care of you-seek the Saviour!" About eight o'clock, he said, "I am perfectly satisfied, I am perfectly satisfied!" and thus closed his testimony to the truth of the promises and the preciousness of the grace of his Blessed Saviour, and immediately the work of dissolution began.

The character of Mr. Bethune is thus briefly and accurately summed up in the funeral sermon by his pastor, the Rev. Dr. Romeyn.

"With almost every society for the promotion of religion and the melioration of human misery in this city, he has been connected since he professed the name of Christ, and his life has been that of a devoted follower of his Lord and Master in the

different relations which he has sustained. Few laymen ever appeared in our judicatories, who commanded more respect and possessed more influence. He was listened to with attention by all, and however diversified might be the opinions among them, his word and his judgment rarely failed to command their merited tribute. His perception was quick, and his judgment, when called into exercise under his conscious responsibility, solid and substantial. A kinder man never lived; one more open to advice-more forbearing towards others. Who among those that knew him did not greet his visits? You found him the Christian decided, and the worthy gentleman acknowledged. Few, very few, had the talent of commending the Gospel and its truths to others in a way more attractive, and powerful from its attraction."

tenour of his life. The uniform and distinThe closing scene corresponded with the guishing characteristic of his dying exercises was, an entire absorption of spirit in the view of the glory and in the feeling of the preciousness of the grace of the Lord Jesus. They strikingly displayed the importance of early religious habits, of thorough Scriptural knowledge, and of a consistent Christian life. The fruit of these he found in the clear, calm, and firm operations of a living faith, and a hope that did not make ashamed; affording to all around him the visible and audible proofs that he had "arrived at the fulness of the stature of a man in Christ Jesus." His prayers were heard; his passage through Jordan was calm and easy; and without a groan or a sigh he fell asleep on the bosom of that Redeemer whom he loved to serve during life, and whom he longed to see, eye to eye, and face to face in the upper sanctuary.

"Night dews fall not more gently on the ground, Nor weary, worn-out winds expire more soft,""

than this follower of the Lamb passed from his pilgrimage on earth to his loved home in the skies, the mansion his master had prepared for him."

Western Africa.

In a former Report, and in a short Circu. lar issued in the course of last year, the details of this interesting engagement were

given, as far as the period at which it was proposed by the Committee, that our friend, Hannah Kilham should be enabled to proceed, according to her own desire, to make a temporary residence on the coast of Afri