UBRARf 
 
 OF THE 
 
 NIVER 
 OF 
 
^ 
 
A VOICE 
 
 FROM THE PIOUS DEAD OF THE 
 
 MEDICAL PROFESSION; 
 
 OR, MEMOIRS OF EMINENT PHYSICIANS 
 WHO HAVE FALLEN ASLEEP IN JESUS: 
 
 WITH A PRELIMINARY'DISSERTATION ON 
 
 THE CROSS, AS THE KEY TO ALL KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 HENRY J. BROWN, A.M., M.D. 
 
 'O X<5yoj yap o TOV aravpoiy rotg '/tv dno\\vfiioif fiwpia caYi, roTf 
 i/jiiv dvvapts Qeov tort." 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 HIGGINS & PERKINPINE, 
 
 No. 40 NORTH FOURTH STREET. 
 
 1855. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, 
 BY HIGGINS & PERKINPINE, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of 
 Pennsylvania. 
 
 E. B. HEARS, 6TEREOTTPER. 
 
 SMITH & PKTERS, PRINTERS. 
 
3% 
 
 TO THE 
 
 MEDICAL PROFESSION, 
 
 THIS VOLUME 
 
 IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, 
 BY 
 
 A PROFESSIONAL BROTHER. 
 

PKEFACE. 
 
 following pages, it is believed, will abund- 
 -*- antly refute a charge of incompatibility be- 
 tween the Christian Keligion and Science, some- 
 times made by wicked and ignorant persons. The 
 testimony of enlightened experience is always 
 reliable ; but that of a given number of individ- 
 uals peculiarly capable of its highest power, ac- 
 quires uncommon force, if, whilst furnishing a 
 brighter light, it also corroborates the religious 
 experience of a whole race. It is more potent 
 than mere argument, and throws an impediment 
 in the way of infidelity which gives it far more 
 trouble than all others combined. Of this char- 
 acter is the testimony furnished in this volume. 
 
 Among the following memoirs will be found 
 the names of some of the brightest intellectual 
 
 1* (5) 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 and scientific lights of any time and country. 
 That of Mr. Hey will arrest attention as among 
 the most distinguished of the English surgeons 
 of his day. No name is more widely or favour- 
 ably known to the medical profession, and, indeed, 
 to the world of general science, than that of Dr. 
 John Mason Good. Dr. Hope's work on the heart 
 is in the library of almost every physician. The 
 name of Dr. Bateman is also familiar to us. Of 
 Dr. Godman nothing need be said to his own 
 countrymen. All of these acquired an imperish- 
 able reputation, everywhere known and acknow- 
 ledged ; and, they therefore represent a class of 
 the subjects of Christian truth possessing a pre- 
 eminent claim upon the attention of men of sci- 
 ence, and especially on that of medical men. Not 
 one of them can be objected to as wanting in 
 talent, education, or opportunity for thorough ex- 
 amination of the claims of Christianity upon hu- 
 man belief; nearly all of them were sceptics; 
 every one of them exacting of the truth to the 
 very utmost of the pride and power of human 
 reason ; and all of them agree, and rejoice, in the 
 triumphs of experimental truth ! 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 Dr. Gordon is not so generally known to Amer- 
 ican physicians, but his memoir presents no com- 
 mon character, and the most rigid judgment will 
 assign him no inferior position in the profession 
 or in general science. His testimony is radiant 
 with a glory which shines forth with an unusual 
 brightness amid the breaking clouds of death. 
 It is furnished as an instance of that complete 
 triumph which the word of God declares the 
 Christian's faith will accomplish over the terrors 
 of the last hour. The case of Dr. Broughton 
 belongs more especially to those of our brethren 
 who are enlisted in the naval service ; whilst that 
 of Dr. Capadose must possess peculiar interest for 
 those of them who claim to be the natural de- 
 scendants of Abraham. 
 
 To medical men of every class these Memoirs 
 come with singular force, involving, as they do, 
 the modes of thought, the associations, and the 
 difficulties common to the medical profession. 
 Their testimony is as the united voice of breth- 
 ren of the same toils, proclaiming a heavenly rest 
 to the weary pilgrim. It comes, too, unembar- 
 rassed with any considerations of interest, or 
 mere purpose of sect #r calling. 
 
Vlll PllEFACE. 
 
 The memoirs of Mr. Hey, Drs. Good, Hope 
 and Bateman appear, with some alterations, con- 
 sisting in some instances of abridgments, and 
 in others of additions, as found in " Sketches 
 of Eminent Medical Men," a publication of the 
 London Eeligious Tract Society. " A Narrative 
 of the closing scenes of the Life of the late Wil- 
 liam Gordon, M. D. &c., by Newman Hall, B. A.," 
 has furnished the materials for this most inter- 
 esting memoir. The former portion of it has been 
 re-written, but the latter, and larger, is generally 
 a literal transcript of the text of the Narrative, 
 with such omissions as the want of space com- 
 pelled. The desired point was, to present the 
 daily experience of the dying Christian in his own 
 words, and this has been done with less regard to 
 mere literary style than is maintained in the 
 Narrative. That of Dr. John D. Godman is from 
 a sketch by the late Thomas Sew all, M. D., Pro- 
 fessor of Anatomy in Columbia College, Wash- 
 ington, D. C. Dr. Brough ton's memoir is from a 
 publication by the American Tract Society. The 
 account of the conversion of Dr. Capadose was 
 written by himself, at the request of eminent 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 persons at Neufchatel, Switzerland. It appears 
 nearly as abridged from the French of the socie- 
 ties of the Friends of Israel at Toulouse and 
 Neufchatel. 
 
 The Preliminary Dissertation does not claim 
 to be an argument so much as an incentive to in- 
 quiry suggestive of a form. The views which it 
 presents are such as have grown out of the read- 
 ing and reflections of the author amid the active 
 duties of the practitioner of medicine, and are 
 believed to be taught in the WORD OF GOD. 
 
 No other professional man has so little com- 
 mand of his time as the physician. His seasons 
 of leisure are not always free from anxiety and 
 fatigue. The mind, at such times, will not always 
 be disposed to encounter a lengthy article on any 
 subject : this is especially true of irreligious men 
 with religious books. The arrangement of this 
 volume is designed to meet a want growing out 
 of this peculiarity of the profession. The Dissert- 
 ation is presented in short chapters, any one of 
 which is complete in itself, and yet not so discon- 
 nected from the others as wholly to destroy con- 
 secutiveness. The Memoirs will accord with the 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 Dissertation in this respect, so that the reader 
 may pass at once from brief argument to ex- 
 perimental demonstration the highest order ol 
 proof. In some good moment a professional 
 brother may be induced to read a single chapter 
 or memoir, and thus be led to further investiga- 
 tion of the most important of all subjects. The 
 eye of the youthful student who has never yet 
 properly thought of God, may, in this way, be 
 brought to see the surpassing beauties of the 
 Cross. This is the main purpose of the author 
 to arrest the attention of the medical man who 
 has not yet found Christ as a Saviour ; to direct 
 him to that Great Being in whom all glories of 
 science and of grace meet ! If God so please that 
 others shall be benefited thereby, to Him be all 
 
 thanks and glory. 
 
 H. J. B. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, 1855. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 DISSERTATION. 
 CHAPTER I. The Cross in the Life-Union . . . Page 13 
 
 CHAPTER II. The Cross in Nature 21 
 
 CHAPTER III. The Cross in Medicine ..... 31 
 
 MEMOIRS. 
 
 WILLIAM HEY, ESQ. 41 
 
 DR. GOOD 69 
 
 DR. HOPE 93 
 
 DR. BATEMAN 123 
 
 DR. GODMAN . . 147 
 
 DR. GORDON . . . 183 
 
 DR. BROUGHTON 259 
 
 DR. CAPADOSE . . 289 
 
Cross in % f ife-litbit. 
 
 (13) 
 
"Blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us, 
 which was contrary to us, and took it out of the way, nailing it to his 
 cross." COLOSS. ii. 14. 
 
 " Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life ; he that 
 believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live : And whoso- 
 ever liveth, and believeth in me, shall never die." JOHN, xi. 25, 26. 
 
 (14) 
 
A DISSERTATION 
 
 ON THE 
 
 CROSS OF CHRIST 
 AS THE KEY TO ALL KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE CROSS IN THE LIFE-UNION. 
 
 T)RIMEVAL man came from the hand of the Creator a 
 J- perfect creature. Of his intellect we can have no ade- 
 quate conception ; of his body no proper understanding. 
 He was immortal, so created or so kept by means of divine 
 appointment. The earth was like him perfect ; adapted 
 to his high estate ; but of its real nature we can know 
 as little as of man himself. The great design of the 
 Creator seems to have been, a race of happy beings with 
 an abode replete with every condition suited to their 
 exalted nature. 
 
 The intercourse with the Creator was direct ; man 
 communed at once with the Infinite God! no third 
 
 (15) 
 
16 THE CROSS IN THE LIFE-UNION. 
 
 party intervened ! The mind of Adam revelled in the 
 constantly unfolding glories of creation and the Creator. 
 They did not suddenly burst upon the astonished gaze 
 of a mere feeble mortal, but, with the perfection and 
 power of divinely enrapturing disclosure, they opened 
 to the comprehension of mind in its primeval strength ! 
 
 The tempter came and man sinned ! Behold him 
 now ! The intellect which in primeval vigour, with a 
 rapidity greater than present intuition, comprehended 
 the language and thoughts of God, now droops with 
 infirmity, and has become the inmate of a dying body ! 
 The heart which bounded with love to the Creator, has 
 now become " deceitful above all things, and desperately 
 wicked." 
 
 Man stands at the bar of God a convict, under sen- 
 tence of death ; the violated law of the Creator demands 
 the execution of the penalty. Who shall save the crea- 
 ture from this death? JESUS CHRIST! What shall 
 bring him into favour with the Creator again? the 
 CROSS ! 
 
 It would serve no present purpose to inquire whether 
 human intellect has suffered in its nature or essence, by 
 the Fall. It may be safely affirmed, that whatever 
 remains of mind is subject to the same laws, and operates 
 in the same way as in the primeval state, in so far as 
 may be compatible with a total change in moral consti- 
 tution. The Creator is no longer directly accessible to 
 
THE CROSS IN THE LIFE-UXIOX. 17 
 
 man, nor is it in the power of mere human reason to find 
 him out. But then shall mind not enter into the new 
 method shall the way of the Cross be without reason ? 
 Never ! Just as little as mind and reason could stand 
 apart from the act of transgression, just so little can 
 they be excluded from the act of obedience to .Christ. 
 The religion of the Cross does not only allow but 
 demands the highest order of reason ; but the character 
 of the reasoner and the subjects upon which he reasons, 
 are changed. 
 
 If then it be true that the Cross is the only means by 
 which man may be restored to the favour of God, it 
 becomes a matter in importance far outweighing every 
 other claiming his attention, to understand the nature of 
 this gracious instrumentality. But what shall reason say 
 of the Cross ? A man is suspended on Calvary, between 
 the heavens and the earth, a spectacle of mysterious 
 humiliation ; and dies on a cross between two malefac- 
 tors ! What of that ? How shall that bring the creature 
 into favour with the Creator ? But this was the Son of 
 God ! True ; but this does but perplex reason the more : 
 The Son of God to die ! to die a malefactor's death ! 
 to die for man ! Who can reconcile that with reason ? 
 Adam's brightest primeval morn must have left this 
 problem veiled in darkness. Angels cannot understand 
 it, much as they desire ! The tall sons of light, as they 
 "shouted for joy*' when Qod spake a world into being, 
 
 2* 
 
18 THE CROSS IN THE LIFE-UNION. 
 
 may have understood it all ; but the incarnation and 
 death by the Cross challenges their closest scrutiny ! 
 " Without controversy, great is the mystery of godli- 
 ness ; God manifest in the flesh." 1 Tim. iii. 16. 
 
 The Cross addresses itself especially to the moral 
 constitution of man, but his moral constitution is dead. 
 The mind is still present, but it has in itself no adequate 
 power of comprehension, for it is under the dominion of 
 moral death. Not a death in the sense of mere disability, 
 as if some latent power still remained, but an absolute, 
 total death of moral constitution. A new power is there- 
 fore necessary to restore to life that of the Holy 
 Spirit ! 
 
 The gift of this new power by the Holy Spirit is of 
 God, and free ; the order of its bestowment is through 
 faith : Behold the cross, and hear Jesus declare, " He 
 that believeth on me hath everlasting life." There is a 
 suppliant who beats his breast with anguish, but his eye 
 is raised to the cross, and, discerning the all prevailing 
 efficacy of the sacrifice hanging thereon, he finds peace 
 with God ! How does he discern the nature of that 
 sacrifice ? Verily, reason hath not revealed this, but the 
 Holy Spirit to the eye of faith ! 
 
 The life-union is established by the direct operation 
 of the Holy Spirit on the heart of the believer. The 
 manner of this union is inexplicable to mere reason, for 
 it is a matter of faith and experience. It is the point 
 
THE CROSS IN THE LIFE-UNION. 19 
 
 at which the mind ceases to act according to its ordinary 
 laws, in so far as human beings understand them, and 
 relies implicitly, savingly, upon the Word of God. It 
 is God's new creation. The knowledge of the existence 
 of this work is perfect ; but it comes through the heart. 
 More than eighteen hundred years ago, reason asked 
 "How can these things be?" and the only reply still is, 
 " The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest 
 the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh 
 and whither it goeth ; so is every one that is born of the 
 Spirit." 
 
 The believing soul has now become a new creature 
 alive in Christ, and justified before God redeemed by the 
 Son, and adopted by the Father. A new life begins, 
 with new joy, and superior delights the beginning of 
 an immortality more glorious than primeval blessedness 
 confirmed ! In the primeval or immediate state, the 
 pleasures of intellect may have predominated, but in 
 this new creation, or mediate life through the Cross, rea- 
 son and the affections have a higher bond of union ; the 
 former may have been one pre-eminently of reason of 
 the mind ; the latter is one pre-eminently of grace of 
 the heart. Adam knew and loved the Creator ; man 
 may now know and love the Father as revealed by the 
 Son ! God has suspended the mode of immediate inter- 
 course by reason, and has ordained the mediate revela- 
 tion by the Cross. 
 
Cross in 
 
 (21) 
 
"For by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that 
 are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or domi- 
 nions, or principalities, or powers : all things were created by him, 
 and for him : And he is before all things, and by him all things con- 
 sist." COLOS. i. 16, 17. 
 
 "Wherefore God hath highly exalted him, and given him a name 
 which is above every name : That at the name of Jesus every knee 
 should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under 
 the earth ; And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is 
 Lord, to the glory of God the Father." PHILIP, ii. 9, 10, 11. 
 
 (22) 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE CEOSS IN NATUBB. 
 
 MAN is not in the position in which he came from the 
 hands of the Creator, nor is he in that in which sin 
 placed him ; his position is in the order of restoration, 
 placed there by the Cross ; under grace, magnified to them 
 only, however, who believe. Human life is simply a 
 reprieve, during which the Cross manifests its power. 
 The being who controls that life is he who erected the 
 Cross. Its history is that of Christ's great plan of 
 redemption. All present knowledge, whether in nature 
 or science, is of grace, and pertains to this plan. 
 The truths in nature cannot be separated from those of 
 redemption, nor is it possible to understand the former 
 without the aid of the latter. There is not an element, 
 law, or fact, in all the wide range of physical nature that 
 does not belong to the same plan. The earth was 
 adapted to man's primeval condition of holiness and 
 perfection, and was therefore not suited to him after he 
 had fallen; the ban of destruction was necessarily 
 placed upon it too ; God cursed the earth. All physi- 
 
 (23) 
 
24 THE CROSS IN NATURE. 
 
 cal nature is therefore only a part of man's fallen estate. 
 The discovery of a new fact is not an advance in the 
 knowledge of creation, according to the original plan of 
 development ; it is simply an advance in the knowledge 
 of fallen physical nature. There is not a fact or law in 
 nature that understandingly exhibits to mere reason the 
 intelligence and power of the Creator ; for the facts and 
 laws of nature are just as much a perversion of God's 
 power and wisdom as sin is of his purity ; and we might 
 with equal prospect of success, endeavour to find out and 
 understand the attributes of Deity involving directly 
 our moral constitution by the power of mere reason, as 
 by it to understand his unclouded intelligence ! This is 
 not due to a want of intelligence in these facts and laws, 
 but because they form part of a great plan of mercy 
 above the comprehension of reason, although not con- 
 trary to it; a plan which places all dominion and 
 power in the hands of Jesus Christ. 
 
 The government of the world is not now that of the 
 Creator, as in Eden, but of the God-man the Redeemer ! 
 Whatever properly belongs to the nature of the Creator is 
 essentially permanent eternal, and does not tend to de- 
 struction ; just as his Holiness is essentially eternal and 
 does not tend to Sin ; but all that relates to physical nature 
 must be temporary, and finally destroyed. This earth con- 
 tinues in being by virtue of the same reprieve extended to 
 the body of man, but it is under the ban of death, and all 
 
THE CROSS IN NATURE. 25 
 
 laws and conditions under which it exists must work out 
 that result ! God hath spoken it: " But the heavens and 
 the earth, which are now, by the same word are kept in 
 store, reserved unto fire against the day of judgment 
 and perdition of ungodly men in the which the heavens 
 shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements 
 shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also and the 
 works that are therein shall be burned up." 2 Peter, 
 iii. 7-10. 
 
 But the omnipotent power of the God-man will re- 
 deem even this earth from all dominion of sin and death, 
 and make it bright and glorious, suited to man's glori- 
 fied immortality, possibly, nay probably again to become 
 his residence. It shall descend into a grave of fire to 
 rise again ; for " we, according to his promise, look for 
 new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth right- 
 eousness." 2 Peter, iii. 13. 
 
 Throughout all nature there is a moral aspect which 
 finds an explanation only in the Cross, and human reason 
 in vain attempts to understand it. If it departs from the 
 Cross, and ventures' to rely upon its own resources, after 
 wandering through a world of curious and laboured specu- 
 lation, without a ray of true light, it becomes lost in the 
 question of the final cause ; and, if it be true to itself, 
 it will interpret the character of that final cause, by 
 that of its effects : these effects constitute the phe- 
 , nomena of nature. Now, considered in relation to hu- 
 3 
 
26 THE CROSS IN NATURE. 
 
 man happiness alone, are the phenomena of nature in 
 harmony with the character of a being of infinite wis- 
 dom, power, and goodness ? What is the influence of 
 malaria on human health ? Do the vicissitudes in wea- 
 ther, incident to all climates and seasons, contribute to 
 the personal comfort and happiness of mankind ? Why 
 should any malign influence exist, or why should any 
 one of the numerous causes of human misery exist? 
 What is the influence of death upon human happiness 
 considered apart from the future existence which the 
 Cross secures ? But aside from all physical evil, there 
 is a world of moral suffering ; what shall be said of that ? 
 How does the moral evil of human existence agree with 
 human happiness ? It is clear that if the happiness of 
 man be the purpose of his being, there is a signal fail- 
 ure in its execution, and that due to the impotency or 
 malignity of the final cause ! Reason, in very confusion, 
 cries out, " THERE is NO GOD !" 
 
 The objection that if the laws of nature are carefully 
 studied and obeyed, man may be happy, is without the 
 slightest foundation in mere reason, to say nothing of 
 fact ; but if it were otherwise with reason, it is refuted 
 by the experience of universally suffering humanity. 
 Human reason has accomplished all it can accomplish, 
 but has not yet succeeded in securing even comparative 
 happiness ; for the very best estate of man is one of 
 suffering. But if even reason could modify this con- 
 
THE CROSS IN NATURE. 27 
 
 dition, it would accomplish nothing unless it could pro- 
 cure absolutely perfect happiness, both moral and phy- 
 sical ; for less than this would only impair the character 
 of its author. Reason cannot avoid a judgment of 
 the character of the cause by that of its effects ; for the 
 efficiency of the cause must always explain the nature 
 of the cause itself; and on the admitted imperfection 
 of this state of existence, the imperfection of the final 
 cause inevitably follows. 
 
 But if it be objected that human existence is not the 
 highest state of happiness which the final cause can con- 
 fer upon a race, a worse result follows, which impugns 
 its goodness. If human happiness is not as great as it 
 might have been made, then it is so from mere choice in 
 its source. Human reason must have an impotent or 
 malign deity, or one combining both qualities ; its history 
 records this very necessity, as seen in the numerous the- 
 ories, both heathen and enlightened, to account for the 
 origin of good and evil. Ages might fitly be regarded 
 as one continuous effort at the elaboration of reason's 
 deity, but alas ! the true God is yet afar off ! 
 
 Now, the only means of reconciling these contradictory 
 phenomena in nature with an infinitely pure, wise, and 
 powerful being, is by the Cross ; that man is a fallen 
 being that physical nature has fallen with him ; and 
 that human existence is a plan, or part of a plan, under 
 the absolute control of Deity, for the higher development 
 
28 THE CROSS IN NATURE. 
 
 of the divine attributes, and the consequent greater ulti- 
 mate happiness of the creature : not a means to increase 
 the primeval power of mind, so much as to enlarge and 
 beatify the primeval heart ! 
 
 We have hitherto spoken of reason alone as it was 
 left by the Fall, before it became the subject of grace. 
 Whatever the nature of the primeval love may have 
 been, of the creature for the Creator, it ceased to exist 
 when man sinned and fell ; so that whatever feeling of 
 admiration, reverence, or love, unregenerate man may 
 now have for God, is due to an influence which belongs 
 to the mediate revelation of mercy by the Cross. It is 
 an influence which belongs to that measure of gracious 
 light enjoyed by all men in order to produce such a 
 regulation of human society as to render it tolerable for 
 God's people, and adapt it to their state of trial. The 
 wicked must be restrained, or the followers of the Cross 
 could not exist ; and hence in Christian countries there 
 prevails a reflected light or restraining power of Christ- 
 ianity, whilst in the heathen world, the same or an equi- 
 valent power operates, modified so as to be suited to that 
 state of society. It may be called the moral sense of 
 mankind, which directs the thoughts up toward a supreme 
 power. But human reason is sure to confound this light 
 with its own native powers, and seizing upon certain 
 phases of natural and scientific phenomena, it would run 
 directly up to a being of infinite wisdom, power, and 
 
THE CROSS IN NATURE. 29 
 
 goodness, as the 6rod of reason ; when, in point of fact, 
 it is not reason's god at all, but the Grod of grace; not 
 found, but inadequately conceived of ! 
 
 But even the conceptions of God which common grace 
 prompts in human reason, are such as to render the phe- 
 nomena of nature and science unworthy of him, if sepa- 
 rated from the Cross. Reason, conscious of this, is driven 
 into the necessity of reconciling these phenomena with 
 the character of a perfect being ; and this must result in 
 constructing a being to suit them. Here, then, is a most 
 fruitful source of those " profane and vain babblings and 
 oppositions of science falsely so called ; which some pro- 
 fessing, have erred concerning the faith." 1 Tim. 
 vi. 20. 
 
 Great men, even professing Christians, sometimes 
 strangely misapprehend the true province of human rea- 
 son, in attempting to "reason from nature up to nature's 
 God," without including the Cross ! They do find a 
 being of infinite wisdom, power, and goodness ; but the 
 deity whom they thus find is a mere mental or scientific 
 abstraction ! The Infinite God can only be known as 
 He is pleased to reveal himself through the Cross. Jesus 
 Christ is the great centre and sum of all knowledge, 
 power, and worship. He exists as the Almighty God 
 everywhere in nature, but is nowhere discernible but as 
 seen through the Perfect Man who died on the cross ! 
 
 3* 
 
30 THE CROSS IN NATURE. 
 
 All reasoning, therefore, which excludes this gracious 
 key to Divine knowledge, finds a mere God of the fancy. 
 
 There can be no natural theology only as it stands 
 related to Christology. The truth is, there is no such 
 thing as mere natural theology ; it is a misnomer ; it 
 should always be Christology. There is no discord be- 
 tween the God of nature and of revelation ; there can be 
 none, for they are the same Jesus Christ ! Nature is 
 but a confirmation, nay, an irrefragable demonstration 
 of the truth of revelation ; and, therefore, all schemes 
 of theology and philosophy, which* reject or pervert the 
 latter, end in PRACTICAL ATHEISM. 
 
 Deism is a solecism in human reason. It antagonizes 
 cause and effect, is lost in the attempt to explain, and 
 then staggers and gropes its way to a conclusion which 
 leaves a deity so laden with crime and impotency, as that 
 reason itself refuses to worship ! Truth to say, reason 
 will have no god, and, therefore, it finds none : it yields 
 obedience to no god, for it would be a god itself ! In 
 Paradise it disputed the claim of the Eternal to the pre- 
 rogative of Deity ; and God cast it forth into a world of 
 sin, in which it is permitted to strut, assuming a thousand 
 forms of vanity and specious delusion ; but godless 
 still ! The very zenith of its light is shrouded with the 
 gloom of starless midnight, and to it there remains no 
 day, until the glorious " Sun of Righteousness arise with 
 healing in his wings !" 
 

 Cross in 
 
 (31) 
 

 " Howbeit, when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you 
 into all truth : for he shall not speak of himself; but whatsoever he 
 shall hear, that shall he speak : and he shall show you things to come. 
 He shall glorify me : for he shall receive of mine, and shall show it 
 unto you. All things that the Father hath are mine : therefore said 
 I, that he shall take of mine, and shall show it unto you." JOHN, 
 xvi. 13, 14, 15. 
 
 (32) 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE CROSS IN MEDICINE. 
 
 EASON discerns in the human skull an admirable 
 arrangement for defending the delicate organ con- 
 tained within. It delights in contemplating the perfect 
 adaptation of the principle of the arch to a purpose at once 
 so intelligent and wise, and exclaims, " This is the pro- 
 duction of a being of infinite wisdom, power, and 
 goodness !" But hold ! Professional duty brings the 
 surgeon to the bedside of a patient who has fractured 
 that same skull, and irreparable injury has been done to 
 the brain ! And now reason is confounded : The arch, 
 admirably as was its power applied, was not strong 
 enough ; it did well until opposed by superior force ; it 
 accomplished the manifest design of its framer up to a 
 certain point, and then utterly failed ; it was perfect 
 only within certain limits ! Whence this imperfection ? 
 Is not God perfect in power and wisdom ? 
 
 The eye is an astonishing organ of intelligent design, 
 not only as it regards the function which it is to per- 
 form, but also with respect to the arrangement for the 
 
 (33) 
 
34 THE CROSS IN MEDICINE. 
 
 defence of its most delicate structure. It would seem 
 indeed to be complete ; and yet the little gnat tha,t plays 
 in the soft breath of a calm summer's eve, will mock it 
 all ! An atom gives rise to disease that shuts out 
 the fairest scenes of nature, and utterly confounds the 
 wisdom and benevolence which purposed to make the 
 organ of sight the medium of vast enjoyment ! Whence 
 arises this conflict between the purpose of Deity and its 
 accomplishment ? 
 
 A small punctured wound is inflicted upon the tip 
 of the finger. Nature immediately makes an effort to 
 repair the injury. She sends an additional supply of 
 blood to the wound, and the finger becomes red, gently 
 heated, with some pain and swelling lymph is poured 
 into the injured part, and the damage is speedily re- 
 paired. Admirably done ! A wise and benevolent pro- 
 vision of nature, a cure worthy of a being of infinite 
 intelligence and goodness ! Just enough blood is added 
 to furnish the requisite amount of lymph the pain quite 
 tolerable, and the swelling not excessive : the process is 
 perfect ! 
 
 But it is not always so. The same kind of wound 
 may occur again, in the same place, in the same indivi- 
 dual, and nature begins the same work of reparation, 
 but utterly fails ! Look at that little punctured wound 
 again a pin may have been the instrument, a needle, 
 or a minute splint; the blood flows gently to it, the 
 
THE CROSS IN MEDICINE. 35 
 
 parts redden and begin to swell, and are moderately 
 painful ; all good and healthy symptoms : but observe, 
 the redness and swelling become more extended the 
 whole finger is implicated, and still nature labours 
 to restore : the hand is now involved, and finally the 
 whole arm ! The finger mortifies ; the hand and arm 
 follow ; nay, lifll itself is the demand of that little punc- 
 ture which at first scarcely arrested the attention of the 
 sufferer ! Now what does reason say to all this ? Nature 
 did well at first, but with how little success did she. con- 
 tinue her labour ? . It was a most benevolent purpose to 
 heal the wound, and nature began to execute it wisely, 
 but with what sad disaster did she overwhelm the 
 sufferer ! ,. Upon that very arm a helpless family may 
 have depended for support ! 
 
 What is true in this instance is true of all nature's 
 healing powers. They are wisely directed and benevo- 
 lently ordained, but are effectual only within certain 
 limits ; beyond these limits they utterly fail ; and that 
 failure is absolutely inexplicable to mere human reason. 
 All attempts to trace the cause of failure serve but to 
 confuse and bewilder. 
 
 The science of medicine is subject to all the weight 
 of difficulty attending the general question of mere rea- 
 son in nature. If we regard the facts and phenomena 
 of medical science as those of mere developments in cre- 
 ation, without regard to the scheme of Love and Redemp- 
 
36 THE CROSS JN MEDICINE. 
 
 tion by Jesus Christ, we shall search in vain for a deity 
 consistent with these facts and phenomena. The Cross 
 stands between mere reason and them as the only ade- 
 quate exponent of what is worse than mystery a stu- 
 pendous system of contradictions, without any satisfactory 
 ground for rational conjecture ! It is true, it may not 
 fully explain, so as to bring within th^ ready compre- 
 hension of even savingly enlightened reason, all the con- 
 tradictions which mere reason, or reason under the light 
 of common grace, finds, but it will blessedly harmonize 
 them with the character of a perfect Deity perfect in 
 wisdom, power, and goodness, nay, love ! mysterious in 
 its very strength, but satisfying and blissful, even in its 
 mystery, to the believing soul ! 
 
 Christ is the God of science, and (if distinctions may 
 be drawn) pre-eminently of medical science, for it is one 
 of peculiar mercy to suffering humanity. Although be- 
 longing to the great scheme of mercy, it stands out in 
 prominent identification with the new dispensation of the 
 Cross. The healing art belongs only to the Cross. It 
 formed no part of primeval knowledge, just as mercy was 
 no condition of the first creation. Mercy is made mani- 
 fest in the new revelation by Jesus Christ the God- 
 man and mercy and medicine go together in the great 
 mission of redeeming love to sinful and dying humanity ! 
 
 But human reason rejects this scheme of mercy, and 
 means of divine knowledge, closing its eye to the great 
 
THE CROSS IN MEDICINE. 37 
 
 truth everywhere presenting itself, that man is not now 
 in his proper or natural state of existence. It does not 
 understand that this scheme converts this mode of human 
 existence into a system of means, having a new spiritual 
 power operating on and in the heart ; and that these 
 means are so connected with moral and religious life, as 
 to place them in the light of cause and effect in working 
 out the eternal felicity of man, as the "born again" and 
 finally redeemed creature ; nor docs it discern that other 
 vital truth that the value of man's rational and immor- 
 tal soul is so great as that all physical nature is placed 
 under a law contributing to its final and permanent resto- 
 ration to the full image of its divine original ! It fails 
 to distinguish between man's present state, as one of 
 trial in the line of restoration, and the primeval state. 
 Overlooking entirely his great defection from the 
 original estate, with its terrible moral and physical con- 
 sequences, it most blindly takes the phenomena as found 
 in the order of restoration, and treats them as though 
 they belonged to the order of primeval development. 
 In this view of medical science, reason must for ever re- 
 main confounded. 
 
 Nothing can bring human reason into the proper 
 order of investigation but the Cross. Divine revelation 
 can alone furnish the explanatory facts, and only the 
 Holy Spirit, in His gracious influence, can render a 
 knowledge of these facts efficient. Simple theory here 
 
38 THE CROSS IN MEDICINE. 
 
 is worse than simple theory in the discharge of profes- 
 sional duty at the bedside. In the Word of God there 
 is a spiritual life "which must find a lodgment in the 
 heart, and then reason finds an answer to it in all the 
 varied and seemingly interminable ramifications of medi- 
 cal facts and phenomena. Only then does the science 
 rise to its proper dignity ; then it opens before admiring 
 reason, replete with beauty, consistency, and wisdom, 
 and assumes its properplace in the great plan of human 
 redemption by the Cross ! 
 
 It has already been admitted that all things are not 
 brought within the full comprehension of reason, even 
 when fully enlightened by grace, for there are some 
 truths necessarily above it. This very fact gives strength 
 to the claim of the Cross upon human confidence. What 
 would man say of that God whose plans he could 
 thoroughly understand? If the Infinite God of the 
 Christian permit but a single ray of light to come from 
 his ineffable glory, human intellect, in the very perfec- 
 tion of its power, can only look at it through a veil ! 
 
 If the finite cannot comprehend the infinite, and, 
 therefore, the Christian physician cannot fully under- 
 stand his God, even in the truths of his own profession, 
 mere reason should be the last to object. It need but 
 look at the acknowledged mystery which it everywhere 
 meets in the scientific and natural world. The truth is, 
 reason proceeds upon this very ground, differing in this 
 
THE CROSS IN MEDICINE. 39 
 
 that the highest probability of natural truth is sub- 
 stituted for truth itself, and is received as the understood 
 part of a great whole which is above comprehension: 
 Who has explained the nature of attraction and repul- 
 sion ? and jet reason can see no other way in which the 
 physical world could be maintained in its present form 
 of existence. Disturb that duly adjusted antagonism 
 of forces on which that existence depends, and all phy- 
 sical nature goes into confusion. Here a fact is sup- 
 posed to be perfectly within reach of reason the world 
 exists by virtue of certain forces ; the manner of the 
 fact is regarded as equally plain by a proper adjust- 
 ment of opposite forces ; but what does reason know, or 
 even claim to know, of the propriety of that adjustment, 
 or f the real nature of the forces ? Now does reason 
 reject that which is comprehended because of that which 
 is involved in impenetrable mystery ? A theory is em- 
 braced as a whole, because one part of it seems to be 
 consistent with the light which patient investigation and 
 the best aids of science have thus far shed upon it, whilst 
 the other side is left in confessedly total darkness ! 
 
 The mysteries of the Cross occupy far higher ground 
 than those of nature. That which it leaves unexplained 
 has a widely different claim upon the Christian's faith, 
 for it is always joined with some positive declaration of 
 the word of God, the truth of which has been confirmed 
 by the experience of His children ; so that the uniform 
 
40 THE CROSS IN MEDICINE. 
 
 testimony of the Christian world sustains it : The resur- 
 rection of the body stands directly in the face of natural 
 laws ; but God has declared that it shall take, place, and 
 the true believer is made to feel the resurrection power 
 in his own heart ! Herein is the great test of the truth 
 of the Gospel scheme. The plan of redemption by the 
 Cross comes to man as God's great proposition, and 
 challenges to the test; if the power which it claims 
 to exert over the heart, and over human suffering, be not 
 realized in the present experience of the seeker accord- 
 ing to its conditions, then it has failed. This is the very 
 pivot upon which the whole claim of the Cross is made 
 to turn. God has put His own truth upon the very 
 highest ground of possible demonstration that of per- 
 sonal experience ! To this purpose are all the promised 
 revelations of the Holy Spirit. Jesus himself hath said, 
 " If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doc- 
 trine, whether it be of God." 
 
 The mysteries of Divine truth, necessarily above hu- 
 man comprehension, are so modified by what is known, 
 already proved in Christian experience, that the difficulty 
 does not consist in receiving, but in REJECTING them ! 
 On its own principles, therefore, upon premises which 
 nowhere in science or nature equally obtain, human 
 reason is bound to raise no objection; nay, more, is 
 bound in all consistency with the exalted pretensions 
 which it makes to supremacy, to entertain, examine, and 
 prove this Divine proposition. 
 
4* 
 
 (41) 
 
" The influence of the mind on the structure of the frame is very 
 remarkable, and serves to show the principle that God has given to 
 us for purposes so very different from those ordinarily required by the 
 NATURAL MAN ; for who can help being struck with the power and 
 grace of God, and that Divine influence of the Holy Spirit, when he con- 
 templates the lives of those martyrs who were led to the burning 
 stake ? No change was observed in them, in regard to the external 
 man, whilst the power of spiritual holiness gave them strength and 
 grace to die unflinchingly in the cause of their God and Redeemer. 
 SUCH IS THE DIFFERENCE OF LIVING IN THE FLESH, AND DYING IN THE 
 LORD! 
 
 "I do not know what my medical friends think of me ; but they 
 need not fear to tell me their opinion. I have not left it to this hour 
 to make my peace with God." SIR WILLIAM KNIQHTON, Bart., M. D. 
 Physician to Geo. IV. - 
 
 (42) 
 
MEMOIR OF 
 WILLIAM HEY, Esq., F. R. S., 
 
 MEMBER OP THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF SURGEONS IN LONDON ; HON. 
 MEM. OP ROYAL COLLEGE OF SURGEONS IN IRELAND ; OF THE ROYAL 
 MEDICAL SOCIETY OF EDINBURGH; OF THE LITERARY AND PHILO- 
 SOPHICAL SOCIETY OF MANCHESTER ; AND SENIOR SURGEON OF THE 
 LEEDS INFIRMARY. 
 
 MR. HEY was born at the village of Pudsey, near 
 Leeds, on the 23d of August, 1736. At the age 
 of four years, he received an irreparable injury. As he 
 was cutting a piece of string, the edge of the penknife 
 being directed upward towards his face, on dividing the 
 string, the point of the knife entered his right eye, and 
 totally destroyed its power of vision. His father was 
 much affected by the simplicity of his reply to a ques- 
 tion respecting the sight of the injured eye. "He saw 
 light," he said, " with one eye and darkness with the 
 other." The sight of the left eye was, however, remark- 
 ably good even to a very late period of life so much 
 so, that he was always able to read small print without 
 
 (43) 
 
44 MEMOIR OF 
 
 the aid of glasses. We may readily imagine that he 
 speedily gave indications of that singular vivacity arid 
 mental vigour which added a charm even to his declin- 
 ing years. Into every branch of science he made early 
 inquiries, and some lectures which he heard at school on 
 natural philosophy, are said to have riveted his atten- 
 tion in a particular manner. After the usual routine of 
 a school education, he was placed, at the age of four- 
 teen, as an apprentice with Mr. Dawson, a surgeon and 
 apothecary, at Leeds. 
 
 The parents of Mr. Hey had carefully trained him, 
 from his earliest years, in hahits of strict attention to 
 moral principle, and a regard to the outward duties of 
 religion. From the commencement of his apprentice- 
 ship, he never omitted prayer on rising in the morning 
 and retiring at night. . This exposed him to the scoffs 
 and ridicule of his fellow-apprentice, who would intro- 
 duce the servant boy into the bedroom to join in his 
 mockery of this religious service ; but he was not to be 
 thus intimidated, and his firmness and perseverance in- 
 duced them at length to desist. As yet, however, he 
 had acquired no correct notions of the leading doctrines 
 of the Bible, for in conversation with a young friend, 
 who was pressing on his attention the necessity of dis- 
 claiming all merit and relying solely on the mercy and 
 grace of the Redeemer for salvation, he exclaimed, with 
 some surprise, " What ! are we not to do our duty ?" 
 
WILLIAM HEY, ESQ. 45 
 
 so little perception had he then of that inward change 
 of mind, which the blessed doctrine' of justification by 
 faith only in the righteousness and atonement of the 
 Lord Jesus invariably produces, if it be but simply and 
 sincerely embraced : " With the heart man believeth 
 unto righteousness." But this doubtful mental twilight 
 was about to yield to the dawn of a brighter day: 
 " Then shall we know, if we follow on to know the 
 Lord." He was at this period in the habit also of retir- 
 ing at convenient seasons to study the holy Scriptures ; 
 and on one of those occasions, while reading the 5th 
 chapter of the 2d Epistle to the Corinthians, his atten- 
 tion was forcibly arrested by the 17th verse, " If any 
 man be in Christ, he is a new creature : old things are 
 passed away ; behold, all things are become new." In 
 reflecting on these words, a series of considerations 
 arose in his mind, in the course of which, doubtless 
 under the teaching of the Holy Spirit, he was led to 
 a right knowledge of himself as a sinner of the only 
 way of salvation of the necessity of an entire renewal 
 of the inward man. Scenes of worldly gayety and 
 amusement began forthwith to lose their accustomed 
 attraction. His thoughts were now chiefly occupied, 
 and his affections engaged, by invisible and eternal 
 realities. At first, as he once remarked in conversation 
 with an intimate friend, his mind was not so deeply im- 
 pressed by a sense of the great evil of sin, as attracted 
 
46 MEMOIK OP 
 
 by an apprehension of the beauty and excellence of 
 holiness. What chiefly affected him was the love of God 
 manifested in the redemption of a sinful world by Jesus 
 Christ, and the Divine wisdom displayed in the dispen- 
 sations of providence and grace. Certain it is, that, at 
 this time, he entered upon a course from which nothing 
 afterwards ever induced him to turn aside. He became 
 the willing and consistent and unflinching disciple of 
 Divine truth, daily growing in grace and in the know- 
 ledge of his Lord and Saviour. His religious views and 
 habits did not escape the notice of Mr. and Mrs. Daw- 
 son, who considered him unnecessarily precise, and sus- 
 pected that the tenets he had adopted were not a little 
 tinctured with enthusiasm. On one occasion, Mrs. D. 
 undertook to expostulate with him on the subject of his 
 religious sentiments. The reply he made was calm and 
 conciliating. He frankly avowed his views of the nature 
 of true religion, and on this, as on many following occa- 
 sions, referred to the Articles and Liturgy of the Church 
 of England, as sufficient evidence that the principles he 
 maintained were exactly those for which the reformers 
 contended as the pure doctrines of the sacred writings. 
 These conversations convinced Mrs. D. that his senti- 
 ments were not without foundation. He read to her 
 several religious works, no book engaging more of their 
 attention than the "Rise and Progress of Religion," by 
 Dr. Doddridge ; and Mrs. D. became finally, not only 
 
 
WILLIAM HEY, 'ESQ. 47 
 
 a convert to his opinions, but an imitator of his piety, 
 and continued his steady and affectionate friend to the 
 end of life. 
 
 In the autumn of 175T, Mr. Hey went to London 
 to complete his professional education, and became the 
 pupil of Broomfield and Dr. Donald Monro, of St. 
 George's Hospital. Attached to his studies, actuated by 
 an ardent thirst for knowledge, and steadily determined 
 to become master of every subject to which he applied, 
 it was, at the same time, a matter of conscience with 
 him, to acquire a thorough acquaintance with the pro- 
 fession he was to exercise. " I would spare no pains to 
 qualify myself for that state of life to which the provi- 
 dence of God has called me, and then trust him with the 
 success of my endeavours :" Such was the maxim by 
 which he was actuated. His first winter was devoted to 
 anatomy, and seldom did he employ less than twelve 
 hours daily in the lecture and dissecting-rooms. But 
 this unwearied application qualified him for deriving 
 many superior advantages from his subsequent attend- 
 ance on hospital practice. His youthful companions in 
 study would treat his seriousness with mockery, and 
 sneer at the correctness of his conduct ; yet they were 
 constrained to allow the soundness of his understanding, 
 and his superior attainments in professional knowledge. 
 They frequently applied to him in matters of difficulty, 
 and ever found him as cheerfully ready as he was able, 
 
 
48 MEMOIR OP 
 
 to assist them in their inquiries, and to aid and encou- 
 rage them in their several pursuits. 
 
 It is said to have been during the period of his 
 studies in London, that Mr. Hey undertook the very 
 difficult task of systematically governing his thoughts, 
 and laid the foundation of a valuable habit, which re- 
 mained with him to the end of life. He determined that 
 he would meditate on a given subject, while he was walk- 
 ing to a certain distance, and that then he would turn 
 his attention to some other topic; and he was thus ac- 
 customed to pass through the streets of London, investi- 
 gating the various subjects to which his thoughts had 
 been directed by the lectures or other professional occu- 
 pations. He found this acquirement of the greatest 
 use, not only in preserving him from a swarm of vain 
 thoughts, but in enabling him to form a correct judg- 
 ment on many points of Divine and human knowledge. 
 The same kind of accuracy was observed in his conver- 
 sation. He would often discuss a subject with a friend 
 as they rode in his carriage. In the midst of the con- 
 versation, Mr. Hey would alight to see a patient ; and, 
 although this circumstance occurred frequently, he never 
 failed to resume the subject at the very sentence where 
 it had been broken off, and so continued the argument. 
 While yet a student, Mr. Hey likewise accustomed him- 
 self to the observance of certain rules for the distribu- 
 tion of his several employments and the improvement of 
 
WILLIAM HEY, ESQ. 49 
 
 his time. He rose early, and so arranged his occupa- 
 tions that a particular portion of the day was appropri- 
 ated to each. On the Sunday, he never went to the 
 dissecting-room, nor would he accept any invitation to 
 visit, that he might experience no interruption in the 
 "holy duties" and "holy pleasures" of that "sacred 
 rest." He has been often heard to say, that hi? sab- 
 baths were the happiest of his days during his residence 
 in London, and that the complete suspension of all secu- 
 lar pursuits prepared him to resume his studies with 
 renewed ardour and activity. On leaving London he 
 reflected, with emotions of gratitude, on the goodness of 
 God. His health had suffered no interruption by con- 
 stant and intense application to study. His religious 
 principles had not been impaired ; and he had been pre- 
 served from falling by the various temptations to which 
 his situation had exposed him. Hence he was induced 
 to express himself in the words of the Psalmist, " He 
 hath showed me his marvellous kindness in a strong 
 city." Psa. xxxi. 21. 
 
 Shortly after Mr. Hey's return from London, he 
 entered upon practice as a surgeon and apothecary at 
 Leeds and was united in marriage, on the 30th of July, 
 1761, to Miss Alice Banks ; 'a connexion which was the 
 source of a large amount of domestic happiness. From 
 the time he first entered upon the duties of his profes- 
 sion, he treated the most serious accidents; and, con- 
 5 
 
50 MEMOIR OF 
 
 trary to the custom of the medical practitioners of Leeds 
 at that time, performed all surgical operations that were 
 necessary, never declining any cases which presented 
 themselves on account of their difficulty or danger. Yet 
 he was no stranger to the usual struggles of early pro- 
 fessional life ; his progress was very slow ; his range of 
 practice narrowly circumscribed ; and nearly ten years 
 elapsed before the regular emoluments of it were equal 
 to the expenses of his family. Very little was he then 
 disposed to anticipate the reputation which he after- 
 wards acquired, and the long and successful career that 
 awaited him. No public institution for the relief of the 
 sick existed at that time at Leeds. In the year 1767, 
 an imfirmary was established, in the formation of which 
 Mr. Hey took an active part, and of which he was im- 
 mediately appointed one of the medical officers, and, in 
 a few years, became the senior surgeon. This estab- 
 lishment opened a wide field for the exercise of his pro- 
 fessional talent. 
 
 The intellectual powers of Mr. Hey were of a high 
 order. He was capable of profound investigation ; was 
 acute in discerning the differences of things ; patient and 
 diligent in his researches ; possessing an ardent thirst 
 for knowledge, combined with a sincere and sacred love 
 of truth. Whatever object of study he deliberately took 
 up, he pursued with resolute assiduity, until he had 
 thoroughly made it his own, and had attained clear, com- 
 
WILLIAM HEY, ESQ. 51 
 
 prehensive, and correct notions of it, in all its parts and 
 relations. 
 
 As an operator he was firm, steady and collected ; 
 circumspect and deliberate in forming his determination, 
 and not easily disconcerted by any unexpected occurrence 
 that might present itself. Few provincial surgeons have 
 been called to perform a greater number of the most 
 important chirurgical operations, and perhaps none has 
 been more successful ; yet the greatness of his reputation 
 and his acknowledged skill never seduced him into rash 
 and hasty decisions, into presumptuous confidence, or 
 criminal negligence : he was thoughtful, considerate, 
 humane, and attentive, to the latest period of his life. 
 He possessed, in fact, all the qualifications necessary to 
 constitute a good surgeon. He invariably retired to a 
 room to offer prayer to the Divine Being, previous to his 
 performing any operation ; and he attributed his success 
 in the use of the knife to this circumstance. 
 
 Many records of the professional labours of Mr. Hey 
 have been left behind. His surgical writings evince a 
 strong, comprehensive, and enlightened view of those 
 subjects which he undertook to illustrate, and will be 
 read by the Faculty as long as true knowledge of their 
 profession is desired. His " SURGICAL OBSERVATIONS" 
 is still a standard work. 
 
 Mr. Hey's memory is not without some written testi- 
 mony for religious truth. In reply to Dr. Priestly, who 
 
52 MEMOIR OF 
 
 was distinguished as a man of science, but in religion 
 was a Socinian, he wrote " A DEFENCE OF THE DIVINITY 
 OF CHRIST," and "A SHORT DEFENCE OF THE DOC- 
 TRINE OF THE ATONEMENT." 
 
 His chief studies out of his profession, were the prin- 
 ciples of religion, and the best mode of propagating 
 Christian knowledge and promoting Christian practice ; 
 and he spared no pains (as those w r ho knew him best 
 know) to enlighten the faith, and to nourish the piety 
 of every person who came in his way ; and many can 
 testify how well he succeeded. His well-tempered zeal 
 for religion was founded on a solid conviction, drawn 
 from an intimate acquaintance with its evidences, and 
 fortified by long experience of its consolations, and a 
 constant practice of its precepts. 
 
 At the age of eighteen Mr. Hey united himself with 
 the Methodists, under the. superintendence and direction 
 of Rev. John Wesley, and continued in connexion with 
 them for more than twenty years, and participated 
 actively in their efforts for the spread of religion. He 
 did not conceive that his admission as a member of the 
 Methodist Society, implied a secession from the Estab- 
 lished Church. It appears that subsequently, when 
 forced to decide that question, he remained with the 
 Establishment. 
 
 In the year 1773, Mr. Hey received an injury in his 
 knee by striking it against the stone work of a bath, the 
 
WILLIAM HEY, ESQ. 53 
 
 effects of which accident were aggravated, soon after, by 
 his horse falling with him. These injuries laid the foun- 
 dation of a lameness which continued during the remain- 
 der of his life. But about three years afterwards he 
 received a stroke upon the thigh of the weak limb, which, 
 for a time, threatened to terminate his professional 
 labours. He was now, when in the full tide of prospe- 
 rity and reputation as a surgeon, totally disabled from 
 using all bodily exertion, and it appeared probable that 
 he would never regain the power of walking. Deeply 
 was he affected by this afflictive dispensation, but he was 
 enabled to sustain it with a meek acquiescence in the 
 Divine will, and reliance upon the gracious declaration 
 of his heavenly Father. " If it be the will of God," said 
 he, to an intimate friend, " that I should be confined to 
 my sofa, and he command me to pick straws during the 
 remainder of my life, I hope I should feel no repugnance 
 to his good pleasure." After a long residence at Bath, 
 he was, however, able once more to resume his practice, 
 with the assistance of a carriage ; but from this period 
 he was never able to walk without a crutch, and could 
 not bear the fatigue of standing more than a few minutes 
 at a time. 
 
 But other trials now awaited Mr. Hey, calculated yet 
 
 more keenly to exercise his faith and patience, as a 
 
 parent as well as a Christian. His eldest son, Mr. 
 
 Richard Hey, had just completed his medical education, 
 
 5* 
 
54 MEMOIR OF 
 
 and commenced assisting his father in the anxieties and 
 fatigues of his now very extensive practice, when he was 
 attacked with symptoms of pulmonary consumption. 
 The progress of the disease had been so silent and in- 
 sidious, that the day of his marriage had been fixed, 
 and preparations made for its celebration, before the 
 indications of actual danger were apparent to himself or 
 others. The disease proceeded with unrelenting rapidity, 
 and he fell a sacrifice to it, in the twenty-fifth year of 
 his age. Miss Alice Hey, Mr. Key's third daughter, 
 was, within a few years after, attacked by a pulmonic 
 complaint, which terminated fatally. About this time, 
 his two sons, John and Robert, both intended for the 
 church, were pursuing their studies at Cambridge. John 
 took a seventh wrangler's degree, and was elected fel- 
 low and tutor of Magdalen College. But his ministerial 
 duties, to which he devoted himself with unwearied dili- 
 gence, proved too much for his strength ; the insidious 
 approaches of consumption undermined his health, and, 
 just when he was about to be united to the object of his 
 early affection, it was but too apparent that he also must 
 soon be summoned to relinquish every earthly connexion. 
 He perceived his danger, and, adopting the language of his 
 Saviour as the expression of his heart, " The cup which 
 my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it ?" he died, 
 deeply lamented by all who knew him, January 14th, 
 1801, in the twenty-fourth year of his age. Robert 
 
WILLIAM HEY, ESQ. 55 
 
 Hey was an amiable young man, and endowed with no 
 mean talents ; but a long series of ill health interrupted 
 his progress in learning. He was but just able to sup- 
 port his examination in the senate-house, when he was 
 seized with spitting of blood, which terminated in a 
 consumption, on May 14th, 1802, when in the twenty- 
 fourth year of his age. Mr. Hey experienced all that 
 a parent could feel under these successive disappoint- 
 ments of his hopes and expectations ; but he was at the 
 same time cheered and refreshed by the persuasion that 
 to his children might be applied those consoling words 
 heard from heaven, "Blessed are the dead. which die in 
 the Lord ;" and he was wont to say, that his ultimate 
 end respecting them was answered, inasmuch as he had 
 trained them up to become inhabitants of that kingdom 
 into which, he trusted, they had been mercifully received. 
 On the gravestone of John he inserted these words, " 
 death, where is thy sting?" On that of Robert, " 
 grave, where is thy victory ?" The following extracts 
 from a, memorial, composed on the morning of the day 
 on which the remains of his son Robert Hey were com- 
 mitted to the tomb, present a striking and affecting view 
 of the state of Mr. Key's mind under that affliction : 
 " most holy and glorious Lord God, who hast declared 
 thyself gracious and merciful, long-suffering, and abun- 
 dant in goodness and truth, permit thy guilty creature 
 to approach thee through the mediation of thy Son Jesus 
 
56 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Christ. When I consider myself, I can draw near unto 
 thee with no other language than that of the publican, 
 ' God be merciful to me a sinner/ and with no other 
 plea, than that Jesus hath died for my sins, and is risen 
 again for my justification." . . . "But at this time I 
 would offer my most hearty and solemn thanksgiving for 
 the mercies shown to my dear children. Four of them 
 thou wast pleased to call out of this dangerous and sinful 
 world during the state of infancy, and I humbly hope 
 thou didst receive them to glory. Concerning other 
 four, whom thou hast called hence in adult age, thou 
 hast graciously given me the most solid hopes. Though 
 by nature children of wrath even as others, thou wast 
 pleased to awaken them to a sense of the odious nature 
 of sin, and to grant them true repentance. They were 
 early taught by thy grace to flee for refuge to the Friend 
 of sinners : and thou didst prolong their lives till they 
 had given clear proofs of a sound conversion. Though 
 prepared, as I hoped, to glorify thee on earth, thou didst 
 dispense with their services, and remove them hence in 
 the beginning of their usefulness. But thy grace was 
 with them. In their sickness and at the approach of 
 death, they were enabled to rejoice in thy salvation. 
 The last of them I am about to commit this day to the 
 silent grave, but in sure and certain hope of a joyful re- 
 surrection to eternal life. What shall I render to thee 
 for all thy mercies ? that my future life might more 
 
WILLIAM HEY, ESQ. 57 
 
 abundantly show forth thy praise ! I commit those of 
 my children, who yet remain, to thy fatherly care. 
 Lord, watch over them, and preserve them from the evil 
 that is in the world ! Enable them to glorify thee in 
 the midst of a crooked and perverse generation. And 
 whenever they shall be called hence, may they join their 
 deceased brothers and sisters in the world of holiness 
 and bliss, there to magnify the wonders of redeeming 
 love for ever !" 
 
 But Mr. Key's cup of sorrow was not yet full. He 
 was, not long after, deprived by death of his daughter- 
 in-law, Mrs. William Hey, who left a young family to 
 mourn their irreparable loss. And to conclude the 
 mournful detail, before many years more had passed, 
 symptoms of consumption made their appearance in his 
 daughter, Mrs. Jarratt, who was likewise removed from 
 her afflicted husband and seven children, some of them 
 very young. The following interesting and affecting 
 letter, written to Mrs. Jarratt, very shortly before her 
 death, forcibly depicts those sources of consolation 
 which sustained his own mind as well as that of his 
 beloved daughter : 
 
 " My dear Margaret, 
 
 " Let not your heart be troubled, neither be afraid ; 
 your Redeemer is gone to prepare a place for you : and 
 he will shortly take you to himself, that where he is 
 
58 MEMOIR OF 
 
 there you may be also. In his presence is the fulness 
 of joy, and at his right hand are pleasures for evermore. 
 Take up the words of the prophet, and say, ' I will trust 
 and not be afraid : for the Lord Jehovah is my strength 
 and my song; he also is become my salvation.' ' The 
 Lord taketh pleasure in them that fear him, in those 
 that hope in his mercy.' You may, therefore, cheer- 
 fully join the Psalmist in his song of praise : * Though I 
 walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will 
 fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy 
 staff they comfort me.' The state into which it has 
 pleased the all-wise Disposer of all events to bring you, 
 calls for entire submission to his will, and a patient 
 enduring of all that you may suffer. But the promise 
 is faithful and sure, that all things shall ' work together 
 for good to them that love God.' Whence comes the 
 desire to please and the fear to offend him ? Doubtless 
 from love. Whence the desire to be assured of his 
 favour ? From love assuredly. We are careless about 
 the favour of those for whom we have little regard, but 
 dread the frown of a friend whom we most affectionately 
 love. But let us remember, that often 
 
 'Behind a frowning providence, He hides a smiling face.' 
 
 May the richest blessings of the Almighty be with you ! 
 May his everlasting arms surround and support you! 
 Soon, I trust, it will be said of you, by the angelic host, 
 
WILLIAM HEY, ESQ. 59 
 
 She hath l washed her robes and made them white in the 
 blood of the Lamb : therefore she is before the throne 
 of God, and shall serve him day and night in his temple : 
 therefore shall she be led to living fountains of water ; 
 and God shall wipe away all tears from her eyes.' Your 
 mother and sister join me in most affectionate regards ; 
 and assure yourself that you are daily remembered in 
 our private addresses to the throne of grace. I remain 
 your afflicted, but affectionate father, 
 
 "WILLIAM HEY." 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to remark, that Mr. Hey 
 hailed with great delight the establishment of the 
 British and Foreign Bible Society, and was a zealous 
 supporter of the Church Missionary society. He sub- 
 scribed likewise to the Moravian, Baptist, and Wesleyan 
 Missions. But it deserves to be noticed, that, upon the 
 first establishment of Sunday schools, he not only pro- 
 moted the introduction of those useful means of instruc- 
 tion, upon a very extensive scale, in the town of Leeds, 
 but himself superintended them, and even until the age 
 of eighty years, continued to be a regular and diligent 
 teacher ; and the general intelligence and superior Scrip- 
 ture knowledge of his class, were a striking evidence of 
 the judicious and successful mode of his instructions. 
 On one occasion, when a gentleman was detailing* to a 
 number of teachers the method adopted in another 
 
60 MEMOIR OF 
 
 school, about which Mr. Hey felt a lively interest, the 
 narrative was interrupted by his sudden indisposition. 
 The company expressing much uneasiness at the occur- 
 rence, he remarked, " My spirits are just as buoyant as 
 they were fifty years ago ; but nature reminds me that 
 I am an old man. I exerted my voice too much yester- 
 day, while leading the singing of the scholars, and I am 
 suffering for my imprudence." 
 
 With the exception of his lameness, and a serious 
 illness of some weeks, in the year 1808, Mr. Hey gene- 
 rally enjoyed good health till within two years of his 
 death, when he sustained a most alarming attack of a 
 very painful and dangerous disease in the bowels, from 
 which it was scarcely expected that he would recover. 
 The following extracts from notes made by one of his 
 intimate friends, give an interesting view of his feelings 
 and prospects during this affliction: "When the violence 
 of the complaint had so much abated that Mr. Hey was 
 able to speak a little, he said, ' I was perfectly sensible 
 of my situation ; my mind was as collected as it is now. 
 I was fully persuaded, that, unless it should please God 
 to check the violence of the disorder, I must in a very 
 short time stand in judgment before his throne. I found 
 no support or comfort but in believing views of the atone- 
 ment made by Jesus. On this foundation alone, rested 
 all my hopes. I had much consolation from regarding 
 the Saviour as interceding for me. Oh! there is no 
 
61 
 
 support, no comfort, but in a reliance on the atonement 
 and intercession of the Lord Jesus Christ.' He adverted 
 to the corruption of nature ; observing that, whatever 
 men may say about the effects of the fall, there is no 
 one truth in the Scripture more evident than this, that 
 a complete and entire change must take place in us, be- 
 fore we can truly relish the holy and pure joys and 
 employments of the heavenly world. This the apostle 
 declares, when he says, ' if any man be in Christ, he is 
 a new creature,' or a 'new creation.' We must be made 
 different from what we were before. God alone can 
 effect this great change in the soul. He then spoke in 
 most fervent and elevated strains, of the blessedness of 
 the beatific vision. ' Oh !' said the venerable saint, 
 'who can conceive the happiness of seeing God, of 
 beholding Him who is infinite beauty, infinite perfection ; 
 and not only beholding Him with a rectified and refined 
 intellect, but in beholding to be transformed into His 
 glorious image ! Surely, it is the highest bliss of heaven 
 to see God as He is, and to be made .like him ! What 
 poor low conceptions we have of that God, who is all 
 beauty and love ! Who can conceive the blessedness of 
 seeing Him face to face !' When I next called upon 
 him, ' Oh, what a blessed thing,' said he, 'is it to be 
 looking unto Jesus, and resting upon the promises of 
 God in Him ! Where can a poor sinner look but unto 
 Jesus ? In Him he finds all he wants. My prayer is 
 
62 MEMOIR OF 
 
 that of the poor publican, " God be merciful to me a sin- 
 ner." This prayer ever was, and ever will be, graciously 
 answered. I rest all my hopes on the promises of Christ. 
 If this foundation sink, I am willing to sink with it ;' but ? 
 added he, with a holy fervour, i I am sure it cannot sink : 
 it is firmer than earth or heaven ! What a delightful 
 declaration is that in the third chapter of the first 
 Epistle of St. John ! " Behold what manner of love 
 the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be 
 called the sons of God !" But observe the connexion 
 between the believer's hope of glory and its purifying 
 effect. " Every man that hath this hope in Him puri- 
 fieth himself, even as He is pure." ' He then recited 
 this favourite text : 4 These things write I unto you, that 
 ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an Advocate 
 with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous : and He is 
 the propitiation for our sins ; and not for ours only, but 
 also for the sins of the whole world.' What a free offer 
 is here made to the whole world ! If we are not saved 
 it is because we will not come to Christ, that we may 
 have life. The fault lies in ourselves. Then, speaking 
 on the blessedness of seeing God and being made like 
 Him, ' This, this,' said he, ' is heaven ! I know no 
 other. Oh, how I long to be like Him !' " 
 
 It pleased God once more, however, to restore his 
 servant, after a confinement of more than three months, 
 and although he never perfectly recovered from the in- 
 
WILLIAM HEY, ESQ. 63 
 
 jury inflicted on his constitution by this long and severe 
 indisposition, his strength was not remarkably impaired 
 nor his vigour abated. Hence he would often remark 
 that he was obliged to bring in the aid of reason to tell 
 him that he was an old man. At the advanced period 
 of eighty-two, he moved about with much alertness and 
 agility : the sight of his single eye was remarkably good, 
 and his handwriting was firm and distinct. When men- 
 tioning, in conversation, about six months before his 
 death, the words of the Psalmist "The days of our 
 years are threescore years and ten ; and if by reason of 
 strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength 
 labour and sorrow," he added with a smile, "But I have 
 not found them either labour or sorrow." Much of this 
 freshness and vigour may be ascribed, under the blessing 
 of God, to his early rising, his strict habits of temperance, 
 the equanimity of his temper, and that internal peace and 
 composure which resulted from his humble but steadfast 
 faith, and his habit of continual communion with God. 
 Mr. Hey was enabled to live constantly in the spirit of 
 prayer. "It is a very desirable thing," he says in a 
 letter to Miss Hey, dated October 24, 1799, " to be en- 
 abled to hold a kind of secret communion with God in 
 our minds, while engaged in the common scenes and 
 duties of life. I can remember some seasons when I was 
 young, and had not a multitude of cares to distract me, that 
 I have been enabled to keep my mind much occupied in 
 
64 MEMOIR OF 
 
 the contemplation of Divine things. A multitude of im- 
 portant concerns now press upon me, yet I find much 
 refreshment and strength from secret ejaculations. When 
 this is neglected, my mind grows dry and uncomfortable." 
 " The cheerful and happy state of Mr. Hey's mind in 
 the latter years of his life," says one who knew him well, 
 " may be easily accounted for. He had no time to be 
 unhappy. His life was usefully employed, and he was 
 conscious that he lived for valuable and useful purposes. 
 His views of the gospel of Jesus Christ were remarkably 
 clear and distinct. He was deeply sensible that his own 
 righteousness could never justify him before God ; but 
 he had likewise learned that there is forgiveness with 
 him, and that mercy is freely and fully bestowed on 
 every repenting sinner who has fled for refuge to the 
 hope set before him in the gospel. He did not esteem 
 it presumptuous to believe that God was his reconciled 
 Father in Christ Jesus ; that all things under the direc- 
 tion of infinite wisdom and boundless goodness were 
 contributing to the final salvation and everlasting happi- 
 ness of himself and of all who truly loved and feared 
 God. This assurance of hope he endeavoured to main- 
 tain firm to the end. Perhaps few persons lived under 
 a more abiding sense of the Divine favour than Mr. Hey. 
 He loved God, he delighted in His service, he walked 
 with Him, and here was the prime source of all his hap- 
 piness. The spirit of adoption, which was the prevailing 
 
WILLIAM HEY, ESQ. 65 
 
 temper of Ms mind, shed a bright lustre on the surround- 
 ing prospects of life, and opened a vista through which 
 the eye of faith already caught some beams of that light 
 which shall shortly pour an eternal day of joy and glad- 
 ness on the people of God." 
 
 The closing scene of Mr. Hey's life is thus recorded 
 by an old and affectionate friend : 
 
 " It hath pleased our Heavenly Father to call the 
 happy spirit of our beloved friend, to that c rest which 
 remaineth for the people of God.' About a quarter 
 before six o'clock in the evening of the 23d of March, 
 1819, he took his flight to those bright regions of which 
 he was already a citizen (Philippians iii. 20), on which 
 his affections had long been placed, and towards which 
 he had been enabled, through grace, to tread with steady 
 steps from early youth to a venerable old age. His end 
 was peace. 
 
 "During a great part of his illness, which was 
 attended with much weakness, he slumbered, or was 
 affected by slight and interrupted attacks of delirium. 
 These were of short duration, and his friends had the 
 relief of witnessing many lucid intervals. On Sunday 
 morning, March 14th, he wrote the following note to his 
 beloved pastor and friend, the Rev. Miles Jackson : 
 
 " My dear Friend : 
 " With unfeigned gratitude, I desire to inform you 
 
66 MEMOIR OF 
 
 that I am free from pain (though extremely weak), 
 except when the hiccough comes on, which is generally 
 excited by an exertion. I desire to be as clay in the 
 hands of the potter, and to have the Lord Jesus for my 
 strength and stay. WILLIAM HEY. 
 
 "On Saturday forenoon, March 20, about twelve 
 o'clock, as he came out of a slumber he inquired, ' Is it 
 day or night? What o'clock is it?' When told, he 
 said, ' I should like to know my real state ; but I am 
 not anxious about it, I would truly wish to lie as clay in 
 the hands of the potter, from the ground of my heart.' 
 
 "I saw our dear friend on the Monday morning, 
 before his death, for the first time ; he was in a kind of 
 slumber. Miss Hey mentioned my name. He just said, 
 with a faint voice, 'My friends are all very kind in 
 coming to see me.' He then sunk into his previous 
 state of stupor. 
 
 " The Eev. Mr. Jackson called upon him about half 
 past twelve the same day; he moved his hand out 
 of bed, and pressed Mr. Jackson's with his usual 
 warmth of feeling. Mr. Jackson said, < Shall I offer 
 up a short prayer ?' He replied, < By all means by all 
 means. During the recommendatory prayer he repeated 
 Amen several times with considerable fervour; and then 
 added, ( 0-od of Love, make me. more make me 
 more ." and was unable to finish the petition. He 
 
WILLIAM HEY, ESQ. 67 
 
 said, directing himself to Mr. Jackson, ' Be with thy 
 servant ! Be with him who hath prayed for me !' 
 
 " After I left him, he revived a little, and said to his 
 daughter, Miss Hey, 'My love, you are my love, I 
 must take my leave of you. Farewell ! Farewell !' 
 She said to him, 'Is the Blessed Jesus precious to you?' 
 After a pause, he replied, ' My trust is in Christ He 
 is my Saviour He is my Redeemer !' repeating the 
 expressions more than once. 
 
 " After a short pause had elapsed, Mrs. Hey came 
 and took hold of his hand. He looked at her and said 
 with a pleasant voice, ' What are you come for, my dear 
 love ? To see me before I die ? My dear wife, you see 
 your husband laid upon his death-bed ; you see him 
 dying/ 
 
 "At intervals he was heard to say in broken ac- 
 cents, 'To worship God; to worship the Lord Jesus 
 Christ .' These expressions were connected with other 
 words, which could not be collected from the weakness 
 of his voice. 
 
 " Some time after twelve o'clock, he said to Miss 
 Hey, ' let us awake from sin ! My dear love, awake 
 to righteousness ! I die very soon.' 
 
 " On one occasion, as he was lying with his eyes open, 
 Miss Hey heard him say, 'Glory praise glory !' 
 as if his soul had been wrapt in holy meditation, and he 
 saw the Heavenly Canaan near ! 
 
68 MEMOIR OF WILLIAM HEY, ESQ. 
 
 " About twenty minutes before six o'clock on Tues- 
 day evening, March 23, Mrs. Hey came to the bed- 
 side. She had been informed, I believe, of the nearness 
 of Mr. Hey's departure. Feeble and trembling, I took 
 her by the hand to conduct her to her chair ; whilst I 
 was leading her from the bedside, Mr. Hey made a pe- 
 culiar kind of shrill noise : I thought that it was, pro- 
 bably, the last effort of expiring nature. When I had 
 placed Mrs. Hey in her chair, I returned to the bed, 
 looked for a minute or two, but perceived no heaving of 
 the breast : The silver cord was loosed the happy spirit 
 had taken its everlasting flight !" 
 
(69) 
 
"This maxim, however, I wish to abide by, living or dying: 
 * THAT ONLY is BEST, AND ALONE TO BE DESIRED, WHICH is PERFECTLY 
 
 AGREEABLE TO THE DlVINE GOODNESS AND MAJESTY.' " BOERRHAAVE. 
 
 "It was his constant habit to devdte the first hour of every day to 
 prayer and meditation on the WORD OP GOD a practice which he 
 recommended to others, declaring that he derived from it a vigour 
 which carried him through all the toils of his profession. A friend, 
 seeing him unmoved by great provocation, asked whether it was by 
 nature or by art that he maintained such equanimity. He attributed 
 the conquest to the above habit alone." Sketch of HERMANN BOEBR- 
 HAAVE, M. D. 
 
 (70) 
 
 
 
MEMOIK OF 
 JOHN" MASON GOOD, M. D., F. R S. 
 
 FELLOW OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY OP LONDON, MEMBER OF THE AMERI- 
 CAN PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY, &c. 
 
 JOHN MASON GOOD was the son of the Rev. Peter 
 Good, and, on his mother's side, was nearly related 
 to John Mason, the author of " Self-Knowledge." He 
 received the rudiments of his education in a seminary 
 conducted by his father, and early evinced those mental 
 feelings and capabilities which contributed to the ultimate 
 development of no ordinary character. Delighting in 
 intellectual pursuits of every kind blessed throughout 
 life with corporeal vigour, and the highest degree of 
 mental elasticity endowed with a memory extraordi- 
 narily retentive, from the ample stores of which he could 
 draw at any time with the greatest promptness, he 
 excelled alike in acquiring, retaining, and imparting 
 knowledge. Combining the opposite attributes of con- 
 templation and activity, he attained unusual eminence, 
 not only in his profession, but as a man of general 
 
 (71) 
 
72 MEMOIR OF 
 
 science not in one department of literature merely, 
 but in many at the same time. Benevolent, communi- 
 cative, and habitually cheerful, there was a charm in his 
 society which delighted all who were privileged to enjoy 
 it, and in every relation of life he was esteemed and 
 beloved in no ordinary degree. 
 
 At the age of fifteen, young Good was apprenticed 
 to a general practitioner at Gosport, in whose employ 
 his time was necessarily much occupied, but he still 
 found leisure to increase his already ample literary and 
 scientific store of knowledge, as well as to exercise his 
 powers in original composition. At this early age he 
 wrote many poems, and his taste as well as diligence 
 was exemplified by a volume of extracts, in which he 
 laid nearly one hundred authors Greek, Latin, French, 
 Italian, and English under contribution. The winter 
 of 1783-4 was spent in London. He was now in his 
 twentieth year, and, meeting with a few associates of 
 kindred minds, we may readily imagine how ardently he 
 would pursue his professional and scientific inquiries. 
 No sooner was the session finished, than we find him, 
 with strong recommendation from his hospital friends, 
 entering at once into partnership with Mr. Deeks, a 
 respectable surgeon at Sudbury, in Suffolk ; and, within 
 the short space of a few months, that gentleman left the 
 entire business in his hands. 
 
 At this juncture Mr. Good appeared to have reached 
 
JOHN MASON GOOD, M. D. 73 
 
 the very summit of earthly happiness. Engaged in pur- 
 suits congenial to his taste, and possessing cheerful and 
 engaging manners, combined with a disposition ready to 
 evince the liveliest sympathy in cases where it was most 
 needed, many proofs of his surgical skill soon were 
 given, which imparted a solidity .and extent to his repu- 
 tation, beyond what could have been anticipated. He 
 was, moreover, united to a highly accomplished and 
 amiable young lady, to whom he was affectionately 
 attached. But alas ! there was a worm at the root of 
 this felicity. In little more than six months after their 
 marriage, his youthful bride died of consumption, and it 
 was his bitter lot to experience that 
 
 " Chords which vibrate sweetest pleasure, 
 Thrill the deepest notes of woe." 
 
 After Mr. Good had remained for four years a 
 widower, endeavouring, by professional avocations, scien- 
 tific pursuits, and the soothing influence of society, to 
 recover his native cheerfulness, he again married, and 
 the object of his choice was a daughter of Thomas Fenn, 
 Esq., a highly respectable banker at Sudbury. 
 
 In the year 1792, either by becoming legally bound 
 for some friends, or by advancing them a large sum of 
 money, as to the expected repayment of which he was 
 disappointed, Mr. Good was brought into circumstances 
 of considerable pecuniary embarrassment. Mr. Fenn 
 7 
 
 
74 MEMOIR OF 
 
 cheerfully stepped forward to remove his difficulties, and 
 would have rendered him more effectual aid, had not 
 Mr. Good resolved that perplexities, resulting from his 
 own want of caution,, should be removed principally by 
 his own exertions ; and he forthwith entered upon a 
 course of literary activity, which, though interrupted 
 by repeated disappointments, did ultimately issue in 
 the desired end. He forwarded numerous contributions 
 to periodical publications ; he wrote plays ; he composed 
 poems; he prepared a series of philosophical essays; 
 and at length determined on removing to London, where, 
 in the early part of the following year, he accepted a 
 
 proposal to go into partnership with a Mr. W , a 
 
 surgeon and apothecary in extensive practice, and who 
 had likewise an official connexion with one of the pri- 
 sons. But in this connexion he met with nothing but 
 perplexity and trial. Mr. W. became jealous of his 
 talents and rising popularity, and had recourse to the 
 basest means to injure his reputation; the business 
 failed ; the partnership was dissolved, and Mr. W. died 
 in the Fleet prison. All these circumstances, however, 
 the defeat of projects on which his hopes had been 
 fondly fixed, and an increasing family, did but supply 
 Mr. Good with fresh incentives to professional activity 
 and extended literary research. Again he shrank from 
 a full reception of the aid once more offered to him by 
 his kind relative at Sudbury, and, concealing his anxie- 
 
JOHN MASON GOOD, M. D. 75 
 
 ties from those he most loved, still continued to rely 
 upon his own exertions for success, till he was at length 
 placed by them, under God's blessing, in reputable and 
 easy circumstances. 
 
 It was not long before he was enabled to obtain that 
 distinction amongst medical men which he eagerly 
 sought. In February, 1795, he gained a prize .a 
 premium of twenty guineas from the "Medical So- 
 ciety," for the best dissertation upon the question, 
 "What are the diseases most frequent in workhouses, 
 poor-houses, and similar institutions ; and what are the 
 best means of cure and of prevention ?" which he was 
 requested to publish immediately. And he also became 
 an active member of a society, formed in the year 1794, 
 under the title of the " General Pharmaceutic Associa- 
 tion," the object of which was to preserve the distinc- 
 tion between the apothecary, and the druggist, which it 
 was feared, unless some special efforts were adopted, 
 would soon be altogether lost. Not only in London, 
 but throughout Great Britain, men of the most illiterate 
 character, and grossly ignorant of the science of medi- 
 cine, did not hesitate to combine the practice of it with 
 the business of retailing drugs, to which, in the country, 
 the department of "grocer" was occasionally added. 
 Engaging very warmly in the objects of this associa- 
 tion, at whose suggestion he drew up a " History of 
 Medicine, as far as relates to the profession of the Apo- 
 
76 MEMOIR OF 
 
 thecary," and in others connected with his profession, 
 Mr. Good still continued to pursue his literary inquiries, 
 and, as heretofore, to soothe his mind by the delights of 
 poetry. Translations from the poets of France and Italy 
 now occupied much of his comparatively leisure hours. 
 In a letter to his friend Dr. Drake, in October, 1799, he 
 speaks of "having just begun the German language, 
 after having gone with tolerable ease through the French, 
 Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese;" and, not very long 
 after, he informs him he had been " sedulously studying 
 Arabic and Persian." About this time he commenced, 
 and, in two years, completed, a translation of Lucretius, 
 "On the Nature of Things," an undertaking in which 
 he engaged, according to his own statement, that he 
 might bring himself under a moral necessity of becoming 
 thoroughly acquainted with the utmost possible variety 
 of subjects upon which men of science had been able to 
 throw any light. This translation was carried on in a 
 way not very usual with works of such magnitude it 
 was composed in the streets of London, during the trans- 
 lator's extensive walks to visit his numerous patients. 
 His practice was to take in his pocket two or three 
 leaves of an octavo edition of the original ; to read over 
 a passage two or three times as he walked along, until 
 he had engraven it upon his ready memory ; then to 
 translate the passage, meditate upon his translation, cor- 
 rect and elaborate it, until he had satisfied himself ; and, 
 
JOHN MASON GOOD, M. D. 77 
 
 after he had returned home, and disposed of all his pro- 
 fessional business, he would go to his standing desk, and 
 enter upon his manuscript so much of the translation as 
 he had been able to prepare satisfactorily. During 
 several following years, in addition to the task of com- 
 piling elaborate notes and a running commentary in 
 connexion with the above translation, Mr. Good contri- 
 buted largely to the Analytical and Critical Review, the 
 British and Monthly Magazines, and, besides smaller 
 pieces, published a " Memoir of the Life and Writings 
 of Dr. Geddes." Nor was this all. In a letter to the 
 friend above mentioned, dated January 29, 1803 when, 
 notwithstanding these engagements, he was in the habit 
 of walking from twelve to fourteen miles a day to visit 
 his patients adverting with thankfulness to the state of 
 his practice as a surge'on (which then produced more 
 than 1400?. per annum), he proceeds thus : " I have 
 edited the Critical Review, besides writing several of its 
 most elaborate articles. I have every week supplied a 
 column of matter for the ' Sunday Review,' and for some 
 days have had the great weight of the 'British Press' 
 upon my hands ; the committee for conducting which 
 having applied to me lately, in the utmost consternation, 
 in consequence of a trick put upon them by the propri- 
 etors of other newspapers, and which stopped abruptly 
 the exertions of their editor, and several of their most 
 valuable hands." It should also be mentioned, that a 
 7* 
 
78 MEMOIR OF 
 
 work which Mr. Good undertook, in conjunction with 
 Dr. Olinthus Gregory and Mr. Newton Bosworth, en- 
 titled "Pantologia; or, a Universal Dictionary of Arts, 
 Sciences, and Words," and which was published in 
 twelve thick and closely-printed volumes, royal octavo, 
 occupied much of his time between the years 1804 and 
 1812. It seems difficult to imagine how he could, with 
 any degree of efficiency, have pursued such a variety of 
 occupations ; but such, it is said, was the " energy of his 
 mind, and such his habits of activity and order, that he 
 carried them all forward simultaneously, suffering none 
 to be neglected, left in arrear, or inadequately executed." 
 
 Hitherto it might emphatically be said of Mr. Good, 
 "But one thing thou lackest;" that one, however, by 
 far the most momentous of all. But the early dawn of 
 a brighter day was now approaching. At first, an 
 almost imperceptible, but gradual, change took place in 
 his religious views and prospects. The " dayspring from 
 on high" visited him, enabled him to emerge from the 
 darkness even of Socinian heresy ; guided his feet into 
 the a way of peace;" and shone with increasing bright- 
 ness upon his latter years, till it conducted his happy 
 spirit to that city which "the glory of God" doth lighten, 
 " and the Lamb is the light thereof." 
 
 In consequence, probably, of early associations, Mr. 
 Good always expressed, and no doubt felt, a high respect 
 for religion and religious men, and appears never to 
 
79 
 
 have called in question the genuineness and Divine 
 authority of the sacred Scriptures ; but before he left 
 Sudbury, he avowed his belief in materialism, and the 
 doctrine of Universalists with regard to future punish- 
 ment, and selected for his principal associates some gen- 
 tlemen who maintained the soul-destroying tenets of 
 modern Socinianism. On his removal to London, he 
 was, unhappily, induced to join the most celebrated Uni- 
 tarian congregation of the day, and he continued in con- 
 nexion with it for fourteen years. During all this time, the 
 Bible was always a favourite book with him, but it is to 
 be feared he turned to it rather as a source of literary 
 amusement or critical speculation, than for any higher 
 purposes. But his mind r as he afterwards confessed, 
 was ill at ease. Early recollections of better sentiments 
 often assailed him. Numerous engagements, and the 
 delights of the literary society into which he was intro- 
 duced soon after his removal to town, enabled him, in a 
 great measure, to stifle such convictions, but without the 
 possession of inward serenity or peace. Still he was, in 
 a measure, preserved from some of the worst tendencies 
 of the system ; and when his teacher, the notorious Mr. 
 Belsham, used language in the pulpit which Mr. Good 
 regarded as equivalent to the recommendation of scepti- 
 cism, he at once wrote a note to him, stating that he felt 
 compelled, with much reluctance, to discontinue attend- 
 ance at his chapel, and to break off connexion with his 
 
MEMOIR OF 
 
 society. This circumstance led him to a re-examination 
 of all the sentiments held by them in common, and the 
 consequence was, a gradual surrender of all the leading 
 tenets of the Socinian creed, and a corresponding adop- 
 tion of sentiments more and more in unison with the 
 great fundamental doctrines of scriptural Christianity. 
 As yet, however, he looked upon them as little more than 
 speculative opinions, simply preferable to those he had 
 just abandoned. It was still a considerable time before 
 they assumed the character of principles of action, and 
 issued, by the teaching and blessing of the Spirit of God, 
 in the transformation of his heart and affections. This 
 great change was brought about in so very imperceptible 
 a manner, that the precise epoch of it was not known to 
 his nearest friends probably not to Mr. Good himself ; 
 but its reality was indisputable. One thing was evident 
 to all, that whereas he "was once blind/' he subsequently 
 obtained the sense of spiritual sight ; and it was with no 
 small emotions, of joy, that some who had mourned over 
 the midnight darkness of such a mind, now witnessed the 
 light which was in him, shining " more and more unto 
 the perfect day." " When you are weighing things in 
 the balance," says Baxter, "you may add grain after 
 grain and it makes no turning or motion at all, till you 
 come to the very last grain, and then suddenly that end 
 which was downward is turned upward. So is it (not 
 unfrequently) in the change of a sinner's heart and life ; 
 
JOHN MASON GOOD, M. D. 81 
 
 he is not changed (but preparing towards it) while he is 
 but deliberating whether he should choose Christ or the 
 world. But the last reason which comes in and deter- 
 mineth his will to Christ, and maketh him resolve and 
 enter a firm covenant with him, this makes the greatest 
 change that ever is made by any work in the world. For 
 how can there be a greater than the turning of a soul 
 from the creature to the Creator? so distant are the 
 terms of this change. After this one turning act, Christ 
 hath that heart, and the main bent and endeavours of the 
 life, which the world had before. The man hath a new 
 end, a new rule, a new guide, and a new Master." Thus 
 it was with Mr. Good ; furnishing one instance among 
 many of that striking diversity of operations wherewith 
 the same Spirit worketh all in all. However long there 
 might continue an uncertain suspense, the " last grain" 
 was at length mercifully applied, and the indications of 
 the balance were no longer doubtful. In accomplishing 
 and confirming this change, several afflicting dispensa- 
 tions of Providence seem to have been in a great measure 
 instrumental. Among these was the death of his beloved 
 son-in-law. In relation to it he writes to Dr. Drake, 
 August 18, 1823, " The conflict is now over ; he has 
 entered into his rest, as you may have probably seen by 
 the newspapers, on Friday the 8th instant. He suffered 
 much at times, and the pain alone was sufficient and 
 especially towards the close of the struggle to throw 
 
82 MEMOIE OF 
 
 him into severe perspiration ; but his remark was, ' My 
 Saviour sweated drops of blood for me/ and this upheld 
 him. It was a severe conflict to break off his strong 
 attachment to his beloved children, and his still more 
 beloved wife ; and yet, at last, he was enabled to make 
 a total surrender of himself to the will of God, and for 
 months had his conversation in^ heaven far more than on 
 
 earth During the night before his departure, 
 
 it was observed by Mrs. Good, who sat up by him, that 
 she was fearful the night had been tedious to him : he 
 replied, ' I shall have a long and glorious day.' He 
 spoke prophetically, and the prophecy was fulfilled. 
 What, my dear friend, are all the splendour and the 
 pageantry in the world, compared with the sublime and 
 solemn scenes to which I have thus been an eye-witness ? 
 Surely these are foretastes of that < fulness of joy,' and 
 those 4 pleasures for evermore,' which are reserved at the 
 right hand of God, for those who are favoured with so 
 beatific a vision. They give, if it were wanted, a fresh 
 and energetic stamp of reality to the glorious manifesta- 
 tion of the gospel, and show us for what we were born, 
 and the more important lesson how this high destiny may 
 be obtained. My earnest prayer is, that the lesson may 
 be lost on no one within its sphere ; and, with the feeble 
 powers of my own pen, I would enlarge that sphere, if 
 possible, throughout the universe; and. I would address 
 
JOHN MASON GOOD, M. D. 83 
 
 it to you, my dear friend, as importunately as to my- 
 self." 
 
 Mr. Good now earnestly cultivated the acquaintance 
 of pious men. After the breach of his connexion with 
 the Unitarian congregation before mentioned, he was, 
 for some time, an attendant at the Temple Church, and 
 afterwards at St. Dunstan's, Fleet Street ; and his pri- 
 vate intercourse with Mr. Lloyd, the rector of the latter 
 church, was of much use to him in the best of senses ; 
 but during the latter years of his life, a cordial esteem 
 for the minister and his doctrines led him almost con- 
 stantly to worship at St. John's Chapel, Bedford Row, 
 where he availed himself of the successive ministerial 
 labours of the Rev. D.Wilson, the present bishop of Cal- 
 cutta, and the Rev. C. Jerram, until he passed from all 
 worshipping assemblies here, to join " the general assem- 
 bly and church of the first-born, which are written in 
 heaven." 
 
 It should be mentioned, that, in the year 1820, by the 
 advice of several medical friends, and the earnest en- 
 treaty of others, Mr. Good had entered upon the higher 
 department of the profession. His diploma, which is 
 dated July 10th of that year, was from the Marischal 
 College, Aberdeen. In a letter to the friend already 
 mentioned, dated February, 1821, after speaking of va- 
 rious professional topics, he adds : "I have now tried 
 my new fortune for nearly six months, and only wish I 
 
84 MEMOIR OF 
 
 had felt it prudent to have commenced earlier ; for it 
 has succeeded beyond my best expectations. All my old 
 circle of patients are, in turn, patients still, without a 
 single exception, so far as I know ; and I have added 
 very considerably to the number, as well as have to 
 reply to a tolerably extensive range of advice from the 
 country; so that my hands are pretty full still." From 
 the period of Dr. Good's assuming the practice of a phy- 
 sician, he did not cease to study, but gave to his leading 
 literary occupations an appropriate direction. At the 
 close of the year 1820, he published his " SYSTEM OF 
 NOSOLOGY," a work which had, more or less, occupied 
 his attention, since he first laid down the plan of it in 
 the year 1808. No sooner was this work issued from 
 the press, than its indefatigable author commenced a 
 still more extensive and elaborate performance, which 
 was published in 1822, in four large octavo volumes, 
 entitled, "THE STUDY OF MEDICINE." And in the 
 spring of 1826, Dr. Good found time to publish some 
 Lectures, which he had, several years before, delivered 
 at the Surrey Institution. They are contained in three 
 volumes, entitled " THE BOOK OF NATURE." Other lite- 
 rary pursuits, which still more engaged his heart and 
 affections, he carried on simultaneously ; but the results 
 of these he did not live to lay before the world. 
 
 During the greater part of his life, Dr. Good had 
 enjoyed excellent health. His constitution, as already 
 
M. D. 85 
 
 intimated, was naturally robust, and the cheerfulness of 
 his disposition, and activity of his habits, contributed to 
 its preservation. But, about this time, his friends began 
 to notice, with concern, that the corporeal vigour which 
 had carried him, almost unconscious of fatigue, through 
 so much labor, was now beginning to give way, and, 
 during the three last months of his life, his strength de- 
 clined rapidly. On the arrival of Christmas, 1826, he 
 expressed much anxiety to visit his daughter, Mrs. 
 Neale, and her children, then residing at Shepperton, in 
 Middlesex. This journey he accomplished ; but it was 
 to enter the chamber of death. His illness inflamma- 
 tion in the bladder was short, but exceedingly severe. 
 From Sunday, Dec. 24th, to Thursday, the 28th, it was 
 found requisite to administer frequent doses of opium, 
 which produced occasional confusion of thought of 
 which he was fully aware ; but this was temporary. 
 All the statements which he gave of his views and feel- 
 ings, during his illness, were made when entirely col- 
 lected and self-possessed. A very interesting account 
 of these is contained in a letter from a member of his 
 family to Dr. Olinthus Gregory, of which the following 
 is an abstract : 
 
 " On the evening of Saturday, Dec. 30th, the Rev. 
 
 W. Russell, rector of Shepperton, was sent for. On his 
 
 entrance, Dr. Good put out his hand, saying * You are 
 
 the very person whom, next to my own family, I am 
 
 8 
 
86 MEMOIR OF 
 
 most anxious to see.' Mr. Russell replied, * I am come 
 for the purpose of imploring the blessing of the Re- 
 deemer upon you.' Dr. Good then inquired, mentioning 
 their names individually, if all his family were present ? 
 And each answering, he said, in almost his usual tone 
 of voice, and with much composure of manner, ' I can- 
 not say I feel those triumphs which some Christians 
 have experienced; but I have taken what, unfortu- 
 nately, the generality of Christians too much take I 
 have taken the middle walk of Christianity ; I have en- 
 deavoured to live up to its duties and doctrines, but I 
 have lived below its privileges. I most firmly believe all 
 the doctrines of Scripture, as declared by our church. 
 I have endeavoured to take God for my Father and my 
 Saviour ; but I want more spirituality, more humility ; 
 I want to be humbled.' Here he became much agitated, 
 but yet went on : ' I have resigned myself to the will of 
 God. If I know myself, I neither despair nor presume : 
 but my constitution is by nature sanguine in all things, 
 so that I am afraid of trusting to myself.' Some re- 
 marks being made about the righteousness of Christ, 
 Dr. Good replied, < No man living can be more sensible 
 than I am, that there is nothing in ourselves; and of the 
 absolute necessity of relying only upon the merits of Jesus 
 CJirist : I know there is a sense in which that expres- 
 sion of St. Paul's, "of whom I am chief," is applicable 
 to all ; but there are some to whom it is peculiarly ap- 
 
JOHN MASON GOOD, M. D. 87 
 
 propriate, and I fear I am one. I have not improved 
 the opportunities given me ; I have had large opportu- 
 nities given me, and I have not improved them as I 
 might ; I have been led astray by the vanity of human 
 learning, and the love of human applause.' Mr. Russell 
 asked, 'But is there anything in particular that you 
 wish me to pray for?' Dr. Good answered, 'No, I 
 have endeavoured to give you, not as a matter of form, 
 but in the sight of God, a transcript of my feelings.' 
 ' But,' repeated Mr. R., 'is there nothing in particular 
 that you wish me to pray for ?' The reply was, ' I want 
 to be more humble under a sense of sin ; I want more 
 spirituality, more humility.' Mr. Russell accordingly 
 knelt down to pray, but after 'this testimony to the truth 
 this statement of his feelings, in which all the powers 
 of his soul and body seemed summoned up and concen- 
 trated, nature was exhausted. 
 
 " Sunday, Dec. 31st, was a day of intense agony 
 and frequent wanderings of mind ; but, in the intervals 
 of composure, and when not suffering from extreme ex- 
 acerbations of pain, some of Dr. G.'s family endea- 
 voured to repeat occasionally short texts of Scripture, to 
 which he always listened with pleasure ; appearing, how- 
 ever, much more struck with some than with others. 
 On one occasion, without any suggestion or leading 
 remark from those around, he was heard to repeat dis- 
 tinctly, with quivering, convulsive lips, * All the pro- 
 
88 MEMOIR OF 
 
 mises of God are yea and amen in Christ Jesus.' What 
 words for dying lips to rest upon ! At another time, as 
 one of his family was sitting by, he uttered some expres- 
 sion, not accurately remembered, of deep sorrow for sin. 
 This text was then mentioned : * If we confess our sins, 
 he is faithful and just.' He repeated, * Faithful yes, 
 nothing can be more suitable !' 
 
 "Everything that medical skill could suggest was 
 attempted for Dr. Good's relief, by his friends, Mr. 
 Cooper, Dr. Hooper, and Mr. B. Travers, but in vain; 
 and on Monday, Jan. 1st, it was but too evident that 
 life was ebbing fast away. He still listened with mani- 
 fest pleasure to texts which were repeated at intervals 
 throughout the day, and his quivering lips were conti- 
 nually re-uttering the words of Scripture, at times, when 
 intense agony occasioned such convulsive motions that 
 the bed shook under him. His youngest daughter, who 
 was holding his cold hands, said to him, ' Do you re- 
 member your favourite hymn, " There is a fountain filled 
 with blood?" &c.' He had repeated it in the earlier 
 part of his illness, and told Mr. Russell, that, sometimes 
 when walking through the streets of London, he used to 
 repeat it to himself. In one instance, he altered it un- 
 intentionally, but still strictly preserving the sense, in a 
 manner which showed that his mental powers were yet 
 vigorous. Instead of 
 
JOHN MASON GOOD, M. D. 89 
 
 When this poor lisping, stammering tongue 
 Lies silent in the grave, 
 
 He substituted 
 
 When this decaying, mouldering frame 
 Lies crumbling in the dust.' 
 
 And a text on which he dwelt with much earnestness 
 and delight, was, * Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and 
 to-day, and for ever ;' circumstances which evinced, in 
 no slight degree, how totally changed were his religious 
 views and feelings from those that he formerly pos- 
 sessed. Another text, which, without any suggestion or 
 leading remark, he repeated several times, was ' Who 
 art thou, great mountain? before Zerubbabel thou 
 shalt become a plain ; and he shall bring forth the head- 
 stone thereof with shoutings, crying, Grace, grace unto 
 it' dwelling with peculiar emphasis upon the words, 
 ' Grace, grace unto it.' He also listened with much ap- 
 parent comfort to that portion of the Te Deum, ' When 
 thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death, thou didst 
 open the kingdom of heaven to all believers/ On the 
 afternoon of this day he was constantly convulsed, and 
 uttered but one or two connected sentences. But his 
 power of comprehension appeared to last much longer 
 than his power of articulation or expression. His hear- 
 ing now became greatly affected. Mr.. Russell called to 
 him with a loud voice, * Jesus Christ the Saviour.' He 
 8* 
 
90 MEMOIR OF 
 
 was not insensible to that sound. His valued clerical 
 friend then repeated to him, in the same elevated tone, 
 'Behold the Lamb of God.' This roused him, and with 
 energy the energy of a dying believer he terminated 
 the sentence, ' which taketh away the sin of the world ;' 
 and these were the last words he intelligibly uttered, 
 being about three hours before his death, which occurred 
 Tuesday morning, January 2d, 1827, aged 63 years." 
 
 Dr. Gregory, his biographer, says, "Dr. Good's 
 mind was deeply imbued with a devotional spirit, which 
 he carried with him through all the transactions of life. 
 When prescribing for his patients he was in the habit 
 of praying for divine direction; or administering a me- 
 dicine himself, he was often known to utter a short eja- 
 culatory prayer : and in cases where a fatal issue was 
 inevitable, he most scrupulously avoided the delusion, 
 too common on such occasions, announcing his appre- 
 hensions with the utmost delicacy of feeling." 
 
 Amongst Dr. Good's papers was found the following, 
 which we here transcribe, as evincing the spirit of prayer 
 in which, during the latter years of his life, his practice 
 was conducted : 
 
 " July 27, 1823. Form of prayer, which I purpose 
 to use among others, so long as it may please God that 
 I shall continue in the exercise of my profession ; and 
 which is here copied out, not so much to assist my own 
 
JOHN MASON GOOD, M. D. 91 
 
 memory, as to give a hint to many who may perhaps 
 feel thankful for it when I am removed to a state where 
 personal vanity can have no success, and the opinion of 
 the world can no longer be of any importance. I 
 should wish it to close the subsequent editions of my 
 6 Study of Medicine/ 
 
 " < thou great Bestower of health, strength, and 
 comfort, grant thy blessing upon the professional duties 
 in which this day I may engage. Give me judgment to 
 discern disease, and skill to treat it; and crown with 
 thy favour the means that may be devised for recovery ; 
 for with thine assistance the humblest instrument may 
 succeed, as, without it, the ablest must prove unavailing. 
 Save me from all sordid motives, and endow me with a 
 spirit of pity and liberality towards the poor, and of 
 tenderness and sympathy towards all, that I may enter 
 into the various feelings by which they are respectively 
 tried ; may weep with those that weep, and rejoice with 
 those that rejoice. 
 
 " ' And sanctify their souls, as well as their bodies. 
 Let faith and patience and every Christian virtue they 
 are called upon to exercise, have their perfect work ; so 
 that in the gracious dealings of the Spirit and thy pro- 
 vidence, they may find in the end, whatever that may 
 be, that it has been good for them to have been 
 afflicted. 
 
 
92 MEMOIR OF 
 
 " * Grant this, Heavenly Father, for the love of 
 that adorable Redeemer, who while on earth went about 
 doing good, and now ever liveth to make intercession in 
 heaven. Amen.' " 
 
(93) 
 
" If there is one condition in life more than another, (subordinate 
 indeed to the sacred office) in which a knowledge of theology, natural 
 and revealed, is of personal and relative importance, in combination 
 with all other qualifications for an efficient performance of duty, it is 
 that profession which is appealed to and confided in when the body is racked 
 with pain, life Jeopardized, reason disturbed, or a bereaved family are look- 
 ing for solace. 
 
 " Some even appear to dread the inferences that may be drawn by 
 thoughtless neighbours, that frequent attendance in the house appro- 
 priated to divine worship, is incompatible with much professional occu- 
 pation. It has, however, often been shown, that by good management, 
 a medical man in full practice can occupy his place in the house of Ood, 
 twice on the sabbath, with considerable regularity." 
 
 WM. COOK, M.D., M.R.C.S. 
 Ed. of Mordant, $c. 
 
 (94) 
 
MEMOIR OF 
 JAMES HOPE, M.D., F.K.S. 
 
 PHYSICIAN TO ST. GEORGE'S HOSPITAL; SENIOR PHYSICIAN TO ST. 
 MARYLEBONE INFIRMARY; PRESIDENT OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF 
 EDINBURGH, &c. 
 
 DR. HOPE was the son of Thomas Hope, Esq., of Pres- 
 bery Hall, Cheshire. He was born February 23, 
 1801, and was the tenth child of a family of twelve. It 
 is remarkable, that he felt in early life, an apparently 
 almost invincible aversion to that profession in which, at 
 a comparatively early period, he rapidly obtained such 
 distinction, and for which his naturally close and reflect- 
 ing intellectual habits so well qualified him. It was his 
 father's wish that he should be a merchant ; his own to 
 attain eminence at the bar. At length, after a period 
 of much uncertainty, he yielded to the persuasions of a 
 leading physician at Manchester, to make trial of the 
 practice of physic, upon one condition only that he 
 should be allowed to practise in London; a wish 
 
 (95) 
 
96 MEMOIR OF 
 
 prompted by a secret consciousness of Ms talents, and 
 by that proud ambition which, till overruled by higher 
 and better principles, seems to have been the master- 
 spring of his conduct, leading him to scorn success in 
 every field except where he should have to compete with 
 talent of the highest order. 
 
 He commenced his studies at Edinburgh, in the 
 autumn of 1820. From the extreme aversion he felt for 
 practical anatomy, his first year was one of disgust and 
 unhappiness. Still he determined to persevere. Having 
 now made up his mind that the medical profession was 
 the sphere in which all his ambitious dreams were to be 
 realized, he relied on the power of habit to overcome his 
 disgust. But he dissected in gloves and with forceps, 
 so as never to touch the body ; and so strongly rooted 
 were his feelings, that it took two years to overcome 
 them in any tolerable degree, and they continued to 
 afiect him slightly, even six or seven years afterwards. 
 Dr. Baillie was at that time at the head of the profes- 
 sion in London, and he was the model which young Hope 
 proposed for his own imitation. He soon discovered 
 that that celebrated physician owed much of his emi- 
 nence and success to his knowledge of morbid anatomy, 
 and therefore at once determined to concentrate all his 
 powers on this most essential, though least agreeable 
 part of his studies, and he speedily planned a work on 
 the morbid anatomy of the whole body, illustrated by 
 
JAMES HOPE, M. D. 97 
 
 engravings. At that time there was no similar work in 
 existence. Before leaving Edinburgh, Dr. Hope succes- 
 sively filled the offices of house-surgeon and house-phy- 
 sician to the Infirmary, and was one of the presidents 
 of the Medical Society. The two years he spent in the 
 Edinburgh Infirmary, he has been often heard to say, 
 were the most valuable of his life he literally lived at 
 the bed-side of his patients, and the sphere for observa- 
 tion was nearly unlimited. He graduated on the 1st of 
 August, 1825. At the commencement of the following 
 year, Dr. Hope went to London for the purpose of study- 
 ing surgery, for although he restricted himself exclu- 
 sively to the practice of medicine, he determined from 
 the first to study the two branches equally, and was 
 accustomed to observe that his knowledge of surgery 
 was ever afterwards of the greatest use to him, and that 
 it gave him a confidence which he could never otherwise 
 have enjoyed. He therefore proceeded so far as to pass 
 his examination before the College of Surgeons. Mr. 
 Cline was his only examiner, and he soon dismissed him 
 with the remark, " You know your profession, Sir ; we 
 need not detain you." The next year was spent at 
 Paris, and it proved to be one of the most laborious of 
 his life. A grand difficulty confronted him in the outset. 
 Although he had a good knowledge of French and 
 Italian, as far as mere reading went, he found it by no 
 
 means so easy a thing as he imagined, to profit by the 
 
 9 
 
 
 
98 MEMOIR OF 
 
 lessons of professors, or to converse with the natives of 
 the country. Of this he soon met with a humiliating 
 proof. He went to engage apartments at a private 
 hotel, but after a pantomimic performance of some 
 twenty minutes between himself and the landlady, it was 
 found that neither could, in the slightest degree, under- 
 stand the other ; and after laughter and reciprocal bows, 
 he retired in despair. He now 'determined to devote 
 twelve hours a day to the mere practice of speaking 
 French. He engaged a master, and made him go 
 through the drudgery of reading three words at a time, 
 while he mimicked them as closely as he could. He 
 exercised himself by means of Wanostrocht's Grammar 
 with a key to it. He went to dine daily at a small and 
 crowded restaurant, frequented by the garde-du-corps, 
 where the company was so densely packed, that he could 
 not avoid overhearing the conversation of two or three 
 contiguous tables. In this way his ear got familiarized 
 with all the sounds of the French language, and having 
 a fancy for the rooms of the private hotel, to which he 
 had originally gone, he again waited on the landlady. 
 On entering, he addressed her in fluent French, 
 explained his wishes, &c. The landlady, meanwhile, 
 with uplifted arms, and an air of utter amazement, 
 exclaimed, "Viola! un miracle! You cannot be the 
 same gentleman who called here a month ago, and could 
 not speak a single word of French !" " The same, not- 
 
 
JAMES HOPE, M.D. 99 
 
 withstanding." The rooms were then duly taken, and 
 he continued to occupy them during his residence in 
 Paris. He now hegan his attendance at the hospitals at 
 the early hour of five in the morning, visiting the most 
 important, but settling at La Charite*, where M. Chomel 
 was professor of clinical medicine. Chomel soon singled 
 out the diligent Englishman, and proposed to make him 
 one of his clinical clerks an offer which was gladly 
 accepted. 
 
 From his earliest childhood Dr. Hope had manifested 
 an unusual facility in the use of the pencil and the 
 brush. During his residence in Edinburgh he began to 
 carry into execution his design, already alluded to, of a 
 work on morbid anatomy embellished with plates, and 
 he had now ample opportunities of prosecuting such a 
 work. From specimens of morbid anatomy, procured 
 from various sources, he compelled himself to make three 
 or four drawings a week ; one of the most irksome tasks, 
 he was accustomed to say, that he ever performed. His 
 repugnance to anatomy was not totally subdued, and it 
 was only by the strongest mental effort that he was able 
 to proceed. Notwithstanding, he thus occupied himself 
 five hours daily. On the 6th of June, 182T, Dr. Hope 
 quitted Paris, and in company with a friend, took a 
 delightful tour through Switzerland and Italy, making 
 a stay of three weeks at Venice, in the family of the 
 late estimable British consul, Mr. Money. His remarks 
 
100 MEMOIR OF 
 
 on this family, in a letter to an intimate friend, con- 
 sidered in connexion with the subsequent change in his 
 religious views, is worthy of mention. " The extreme 
 kindness of this amiable and estimable family has almost 
 domesticated us with them. The prominent feature in 
 the character of the family is an ardent and sincere 
 piety, and it is a most impressive lesson to see how 
 happy they are under the influence of such feelings. 
 Whatever the world may say, my dear George, it is a 
 clear case to me that the saints have the laugh on their 
 side. If wishing would add me to their number, I would 
 get enrolled to-morrow." 
 
 Preparatory to settling in his profession, Dr. Hope 
 spent some months in visiting his family and friends in 
 England and Scotland. His father had now nearly 
 attained the eightieth year of his age. A series of 
 afflictions had bowed down his naturally high spirit, and 
 been the means of leading him to seek "that peace 
 which the world cannot give." Having been himself 
 blessed through life with excellent health, which he was 
 in the habit of attributing to his having " always kept 
 out of the doctor's hands," it so happened that he had 
 a supreme contempt of medicine and of medical men. 
 Being proud, however, of his son, he hoped he would 
 prove an exception to the general rule, and to this end 
 did not fail to recommend a book of no ordinary quack 
 receipts, which was received with all deference. But, 
 
JAMES HOPE, M.D. 101 
 
 what was much better, he promised to give him a few 
 words of good advice. This promise was often claimed, 
 but never fulfilled, till the day before his departure, 
 when the old gentleman invited him to take a walk in 
 the neighbouring park, and suddenly stopping, he de- 
 livered himself to the following effect. " Now, James, 
 I shall give you the advice I promised, and if you fol- 
 low it, you will be sure to succeed in your profession. 
 First : Never keep a patient ill longer than you can pos- 
 sibly help. Secondly : Never take a fee to which you 
 do not feel yourself to be justly entitled. And, thirdly : 
 Always pray for your patients." A short time before 
 his death, Dr. Hope said that these maxims had been 
 the rule of his conduct, and that he could testify to their 
 success. 
 
 Fully aware of what was required to attain what he 
 considered the sole object worthy of his ambition, to be 
 at the head of the profession in London, he was now 
 resolved not to shrink from the ordeal through which he 
 had to pass. He turned a deaf ear to various solicita- 
 tions that were made him to settle in other places where 
 he had connexions, determining either to be nothing or 
 to be the first physician in the first metropolis in the 
 world. He lay under two disadvantages, which would 
 alone have been sufficient to deter any one of less deter- 
 mined energy than himself. He had not taken his 
 degree at an English university, and was, therefore* in- 
 
102 MEMOIR OF 
 
 eligible to a fellowship of the College of Physicians a 
 circumstance which was a serious obstacle to his obtain- 
 ing those appointments to which he aspired ; and he had 
 no private connexion. The sole advantages which he 
 possessed were his natural powers of mind and his supe- 
 rior education. To these alone he could look, under 
 Providence, for success, but they proved amply sufficient. 
 He had formed, however, it appears, much too favour- 
 able an estimate of his profession, and believed that the 
 wealth which rewarded those who attained eminence in it, 
 was both greater and more easily acquired than he after- 
 wards found it to be. On arriving in London, Dr. Hope 
 was led into the belief that the first twenty physicians in 
 the metropolis divided about .80,000 annually between 
 them, and that a successful physician might hope to be 
 established in good practice in five years. To be one of 
 so large a number as twenty seemed no difficult task, and 
 therefore he ignorantly hoped that, if he succeeded at all, 
 he should be receiving ,4000 per annum. But he soon 
 found that, notwithstanding the extraordinary reputation 
 which, in a very short period, he acquired, his practice 
 made very tardy approaches indeed towards anything 
 like this amount. Often did he try to discover wherein 
 lay his fault (for such he thought it must be), until he 
 was relieved by the observations of two of the first phy- 
 sicians in London. Dr. Chambers told him that it was 
 absolutely impossible for any man who did not keep a 
 
JAMES HOPE, M.D. 103 
 
 carriage to find time to obtain more than <500 per 
 annum at the very most. Sir H. Halford, while con- 
 gratulating him on being of the number of the success- 
 ful few of his profession, told him that if he made .1000 
 per annum by the time he was forty, he might feel cer- 
 tain of attaining the first eminence that the profession 
 could offer. Dr. Hope's career terminated at this age, 
 and he was then receiving more than four times as 
 much as Sir Henry had led him to expect. But he 
 did not consider himself as a fair criterion of profes- 
 sional success, as he was universally considered to 
 have attained very early eminence, and his own ob- 
 servation led him to believe that this opinion was not 
 unfounded. 
 
 Dr. Hope had long assigned to himself the execution 
 of two works " A Treatise on Diseases of the Heart," 
 and that already mentioned on " Morbid Anatomy, illus- 
 trated by plates ;" and, for the completion of them, he 
 allotted seven years. The materials for the latter work 
 were nearly prepared, and the only difficulty he had to 
 encounter in its publication was the enormous expense 
 of the engravings. But the subject of " Diseases of the 
 Heart" was not then very well understood. He intended 
 to introduce a good deal of original matter ; and although 
 he had bestowed much thought upon it, from the period 
 of his medical studies at Edinburgh, there were many 
 points on which his judgment was not fully formed. It 
 
104 MEMOIR OF 
 
 appeared essential that lie should continue his studies at 
 some large hospital, and he selected St. George's as the 
 one to which his ambition prompted him to hope he 
 should one day be physician. Here he soon became 
 conspicuous for his regular attendance and unvarying 
 application. Never was he to be seen without his ste- 
 thoscope, his book for taking notes of cases, and a small 
 ink bottle attached to his button. At that time there 
 was much prejudice in England, and especially at St. 
 George's, against "auscultation" (the use of the stetho- 
 scope,) in .the examination of diseases of the chest. This 
 Dr. Hope determined to remove, and he adopted the 
 most judicious course, that, namely, of leaving facts to 
 speak for themselves. He took the most minute notes 
 of them all, wrote down the conclusions to which he was 
 led in as great detail as possible, and, before proceeding 
 to a post mortem examination, publicly placed his book 
 on the table that it might be read by every one. He 
 was invariably correct. Attention was soon drawn to 
 him. His accuracy silenced every objection, and all 
 intelligent and candid men became convinced of the 
 utility of the stethoscope. In connexion with this sub- 
 ject, Dr. Hope entered upon a series of experiments 
 relative to the various sounds of the heart in a healthy 
 and morbid condition, and satisfied himself upon so many 
 points that had remained unexplored, that he now felt 
 justified in presenting his discoveries to the public. He 
 
JAMES HOPE, M.D. 105 
 
 accordingly set about his projected work, and wrote with 
 such diligence that he completed it in one year, though 
 it was an octavo volume of about six hundred pages. 
 Being favoured with a good constitution, it had long 
 been his custom to work, with little intermission, from 
 seven in the morning till twelve at night. In conse- 
 quence, his name is to be added to the list of victims who 
 have ruined even robust health, by over-tasking their 
 powers of body and mind, till they have practically 
 found, in the emphatic language of one of the most 
 learned and accomplished of the human race, that " this 
 also is vanity." Once thoroughly engaged in any work 
 of interest, and not feeling at the time any extraordinary 
 fatigue, he seemed not to know where to stop. When 
 writing this book, he frequently sat up half the night. 
 When completing it, he often rose at three in the morn- 
 ing. On one occasion, he rose at three, wrote without 
 cessation till five the following morning, then went to 
 bed, and at nine o'clock Mrs. Hope, to whom he had 
 been married a few months before, was at his bed-side 
 writing to his dictation while he breakfasted. The work 
 met with a most favourable reception. He now directed 
 his attention to publishing the " Morbid Anatomy." In 
 the course of the summer of 1832, he persuaded Messrs. 
 Whittaker & Co. to undertake it on terms which expe- 
 rience had taught him to consider advantageous. These 
 were, that he was to provide all the drawings and litho- 
 
106 MEMOIR OF 
 
 graphy, and they were to be at the expense of the print- 
 ing and the colouring of the plates. After having paid 
 all their own expenses, Messrs. Whittaker agreed to 
 divide the profits with him. After a lapse of three 
 years Dr. Hope received between 60 and 70 for his 
 share, a sum which would not have remunerated him for 
 the expense of the lithography, if he had been compelled 
 to employ a regular artist, but much more than was mu- 
 tually anticipated. No other respectable bookseller 
 would hear of the publication, except on the stipulation 
 of Dr. Hope's making himself responsible for the whole 
 expense. This work met with a reception no less favour- 
 able than that on the " Heart." 
 
 The ruling principle in the mind of Dr. Hope, which 
 had led him to use all this diligence and unwearying 
 perseverance, to practise remarkable self-denial, and to 
 control his natural tastes and feelings, was, as already 
 hinted, what, in the phraseology of the world, would be 
 called a laudable and truly noble ambition ; but no feel- 
 ing, it has been justly observed, which has self for its 
 ultimate object, or which extends only to the brief space 
 of this life, when viewed in the light of revelation, can 
 be denominated either laudable or noble. It was Dr. 
 Hope's happiness that this principle was, at first, almost 
 imperceptibly, but gradually and certainly superseded, 
 by a far higher and better one. He did not then leave 
 the sphere in which Providence had placed him, but it 
 
JAMES HOPE, M.D. 107 
 
 henceforth became the first object of his life to glorify 
 God by the use of every talent committed to his charge. 
 It was in Paris, 1826-7, that he was first led to hear 
 evangelical preaching, being induced by his friend Dr. 
 Nairne to attend at the chapel of the Rev. Lewis Way, 
 with whose sermons he was much interested. His judg- 
 ment, now first exercised on this subject, and aided by 
 the guidance of the Spirit of truth, made him perceive 
 that, if religion were anything, it must be everything. 
 His progress was slow. He did not say much on the 
 subject, for with the humility natural to him, he feared, 
 by his unworthy conduct, to do injury to the pure reli- 
 gion which he professed. But the result was that religion 
 gained a steady ascendency over him, and his conduct 
 answered to the scriptural definition of the kingdom of 
 heaven, in the comparison of it to a little leaven which 
 leaveneth the whole lump. A few days before his death, 
 when referring to this early period, he spoke of the 
 " craving" which he had then felt, and which never left 
 him, "to be permitted to be Christ's soldier militant." 
 An observation which he made to Mrs. Hope, very soon 
 after their marriage, gives a clue to what was his mode 
 of governing his feelings. Mrs. Hope was speaking of 
 the difficulty of evangelical religion, because she believed 
 that it required the feelings to be constantly worked up 
 to love God. " Do not trouble yourself about that mat- 
 ter," answered he; "do not think whether you love 
 
108 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Him or not, but only endeavour to keep your thoughts 
 fixed on the individual and collective blessings which He 
 has bestowed on you, and then you will not be able to 
 do otherwise than love Him." On Dr. Hope's first 
 arrival in town, he had been introduced to Dr. Burder, 
 the son of the pious and well-known author of " Village 
 Sermons." A similarity in mind and character drew 
 these two excellent men together, and when they dis- 
 covered in each other a unison of religious opinion, these 
 feelings kindled into warm affection. In death they were 
 not long divided. With reference to the early period of 
 their acquaintance, Dr. Burder observes, " Some years 
 ago, before I was aware of Dr. Hope's religious princi- 
 ples, I had sometimes said to Mrs. Burder, after observ- 
 ing him narrowly, 4 Well, if Dr. Hope is not a pious man, 
 he is the most perfect man without religion that I ever 
 met with.' But the more I knew of him, the more anx- 
 ious was I to discover whether any principles short of 
 those which teach repentance towards God, faith in our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, and an unreserved consecration of 
 heart and life to His service, could have yielded such 
 transparency of conduct, such humanity, disinterested- 
 ness, humility, guileless simplicity, and undeviating 
 integrity, as I observed in him. At length I learned 
 that he lived 4 as seeing Him who is invisible.' " Some 
 very valuable letters from Dr. Burder to Dr. Hope, en- 
 titled " Letters from a Senior to a Junior Physician on 
 
JAMES HOPE, M.D. 109 
 
 promoting the religious welfare of his Patients," were 
 first published in a periodical work, and have since been 
 appended to the interesting memoir of Dr. Hope, by his 
 widow, from which we have drawn largely in the present 
 sketch. 
 
 It should be mentioned that, not very long after Dr. 
 Hope had settled in London, he obtained the appoint- 
 ment of physician to the Marylebone Infirmary, which 
 he retained till November, 1834. In order to lighten 
 the duties of the physicians of St. George's, it was at 
 that time proposed to create a new office, that of assist- 
 ant physician, and, after an arduous struggle, Dr. Hope 
 was elected. On this occasion, he gave a decided proof 
 of the strength of his religious principles. After having 
 canvassed for several days with little prospect of success, 
 a party of very influential medical governors sent to 
 offer him their support. The communication was made 
 at ten o'clock on Saturday night, these gentlemen stipu- 
 lating that he should canvass most actively under their 
 guidance, and they proceeded to point out his work for 
 the following day, Sunday. To observe the Sabbath was 
 a principle from which he could not swerve. He pre- 
 ferred risking the offered support to offending his God. 
 He urged that, without the Divine blessing, his election 
 could not prosper, and that he -could not expect that 
 blessing while acting in opposition to the Divine com- 
 mands. It was in vain that his new friends argued, en- 
 10 
 
110 MEMOIR OF 
 
 treated, and even threatened to withdraw their support. 
 Dr. Hope was inflexible, and they finally yielded the 
 point. 
 
 In the year 1839, Dr. Chambers resigned the office 
 of physician to St. George's. Dr. Hope had now dis- 
 charged the very laborious duties of assistant physician 
 for above four years. He had likewise succeeded Dr. 
 Marshall Hall as lecturer on the practice of physic at 
 the Aldersgate-street school. Under the pressure of 
 these and his other engagements, his health had seriously 
 given way. On these accounts, the comparatively easy 
 post of physician to the hospital was one of no small im- 
 portance to him. As already hinted, it had been the 
 object of his ambition from the first ; and, inasmuch as 
 it was the established custom at other hospitals, that the 
 assistant physician should, as a matter of course, succeed 
 to the higher post, on the occurrence of a vacancy, he 
 expected to be appointed without any opposition, on this 
 first vacancy which had occurred since the creation of 
 his present office. But in this he was disappointed. 
 He found that Dr. Williams was a candidate, not for the 
 assistant physicianship, to be vacated by himself, but for 
 the office of physician ; and he received a communication 
 from Dr. Seymour, to the effect that the medical com- 
 mittee had come to a resolution not to give their col- 
 lective support to any candidate in particular. Nothing 
 could exceed Dr. Hope's astonishment at this unexpected 
 
JAMES HOPE, M.D. 11! 
 
 turn of affairs. He immediately imagined that some 
 accusation was about to be brought against him before 
 the board of governors, which, even if refuted, might 
 leave a stain upon his reputation. He saw that to Dr. 
 Williams a defeat would be merely the loss of an elec- 
 tion ; to himself he conceived it would be the loss of 
 character, of fortune, and of fame of all that he had 
 worked so hard to attain. The shock was too much for 
 his already enfeebled frame. He was attacked with a 
 spitting of blood, and while his family sat up through 
 the night, occupied with preparations for the election, he 
 himself was obliged to go to bed. Every imaginable 
 exertion was, however, made by his friends and connex- 
 ions, both in the profession and out of it. The students 
 crowded to his house, and intreated, if they had not in- 
 fluence to canvass, they might write, transcribe, seal 
 letters, act as clerks, &c. In five days, three thousand 
 letters left the house, besides those sent privately by 
 friends. On the 26th of June, Dr. Williams retired 
 from the contest, and on the 5th of July Dr. Hope was 
 elected without opposition. He reached the original 
 goal of his ambition. He attained the post of honour 
 upon which, as a Christian man, his mind had perhaps 
 been far too inordinately set ; his friends congratulated 
 him at the result but what was the price he had paid ? 
 it cost him no less than life ! Well may we repeat the 
 often iterated apothegm of "the preacher," "This also 
 
112 MEMOIR OF 
 
 was vanity and a sore evil." The spitting of blood with 
 which he had been attacked, the agitation and excite- 
 ment of the ensuing week, the fatigue of the election, 
 which caused him to work almost without cessation for 
 five days and nights, were what he never could recover. 
 From this time, he dated the final breaking up of his 
 health, which thenceforth progressively and rapidly 
 declined. 
 
 It now only remains to take a glance at the state 
 of Dr. Hope's mind during the remaining months of 
 sickness and decay. 
 
 It was a remarkable circumstance in his moral his- 
 tory, that it was very much through the instrumentality 
 of his reasoning powers that his heart became affected 
 by religious subjects. He was slow in forming a con- 
 clusion on any subject, nor was ever disposed to do so 
 till he had fathomed depths, and probably unravelled 
 many intricacies, which, to a more superficial mind, 
 would have been scarcely apparent. But, being once 
 satisfied of the evidence on which any fact or doctrine 
 rested, he received it as settled and acknowledged truth, 
 as to which there was no room to doubt. With the same 
 calm and deliberate investigation did he examine every 
 religious doctrine ; but, being satisfied of the evidence 
 on which it rested, it henceforth formed part of his mind, 
 and there, like a "tree planted by the rivers of water," 
 it brought forth " its fruit in due season." He paid little 
 
JAMES HOPE, M.D. 113 
 
 attention to occasional feelings of depression, which he 
 conceived to depend mainly on the physical tempera- 
 ment, and was backward to converse on the subject of 
 religious feelings, or what is sometimes termed " Chris- 
 tian experience." Simple faith, and unwavering hope, 
 formed a striking part of his religious character. He 
 knew that Christ died for sinners ; he acknowledged that 
 he was a sinner; he read the invitation to all who 
 were willing he was willing why, therefore, should he 
 doubt ? This confidence in the word of truth was united 
 to the deepest sense of his own unworthiness. Had he 
 trusted, in the least, to himself, his unworthiness might 
 have depressed him, but while resting exclusively on the 
 righteousness and atonement of Jesus Christ, and on 
 promises to which the - Divine power and truth were 
 pledged, no fear or doubt could shake him. It cannot, 
 therefore, be matter of surprise, that, in the prospect of 
 death, and its lingering approaches, Dr. Hope should 
 have been greatly supported. Calculating from his 
 medical experience, he concluded that he should not, in 
 all probability, survive above nine months, after the ab- 
 scesses in his lungs had burst ; and requested Mrs. Hope 
 not to mention to him the possibility of recovery, for 
 such conversations tended to unsettle his mind, while his 
 spirits were more cheerful when he took an opposite 
 view of the subject. On his bed-room chimney-piece he 
 kept a strip of paper, with which he used to measure the 
 30* 
 
114 MEMOIR OF 
 
 size of his leg ; and as it diminished inch by inch, he 
 used to smile, and to speculate on the probability of his 
 going before or after the time he had first named. 
 
 His family could find no more appropriate manner of 
 describing his conduct, throughout the last seven months 
 of his life, than that it resembled that of a man who, 
 expecting to set off on a journey, puts everything in 
 order before his departure, and makes arrangements to 
 supply his absence. His own preparations for the jour- 
 ney he was about to take had indeed been completed 
 long before. When in health, he had frequently spoken 
 of the folly of deferring preparation for death to a bed 
 of sickness. Even supposing, he used to say, that a man 
 could be sure of having a long illness, few have any idea 
 how much illness disqualifies the mind for thought, how 
 many diseases, even at a early stage, take away the 
 senses, and how very commonly a stupor precedes death. 
 This subject had long dwelt on his mind, and it was his 
 intention to write a book on the different modes of death, 
 illustrating this religious view of the matter. During 
 his illness he often exclaimed, " How could I now pre- 
 pare for death ?" And yet his was a disease peculiarly 
 fitted for such a preparation, and his mind was, to the 
 last, so clear, that he, if any, could have done so. 
 
 One day, he met Dr. Chambers in consultation at 
 the house of a patient, and, having alluded to his ap- 
 proaching death, Dr. Chambers endeavoured to >Wr 
 
I.D. 115 
 
 him by saying that there was no occasion to despond, 
 for that he might do well yet. Dr. Hope stopped him 
 with the assurance that he needed not to be thus cheered, 
 for he was well aware of his condition ; that, besides, 
 the nature of Dr. Chambers's communication was not 
 pleasing, for he should be sorry to be detained long from 
 his heavenly inheritance, and to exchange its prospect 
 for the toils of his profession. 
 
 The last time Dr. Latham saw him, he inquired if he 
 felt quite happy. "Perfectly so," was Dr. Hope's an- 
 swer; "I have always been a sober thinking man, and 
 I could not have imagined the joy that I now feel. My 
 only wish is to convey it to the minds of others, but 
 that is impossible. It is such as I could not have con- 
 ceived possible." 
 
 When asked whether he found that illness enabled 
 him to realize spiritual things in a greater degree, he 
 answered, " Yes, when we approach the invisible world, 
 it is astonishing with what intensity of feeling* we desire 
 to be there." Adding, after an interval, "When we 
 consider, too, what we now are ; how continually we sin 
 pollution is in every thought. When we analyze our 
 motives, we see sin in them. I did this from such a 
 motive that, from such another. Charity is given with 
 a feeling of self-complacency. The only way is to bring 
 the burden to the foot of the cross, and tumble it down 
 there, saying, ' Here I am.' It is surprising how pro- 
 
116 MEMOIR OF 
 
 minently the promises come out." Were a reprieve given 
 me, I should acquiesce in the will of God, but I must 
 confess it would be long before I could rejoice." 
 
 With all this joy and peace this " desire to depart 
 and to be with Christ" there was no enthusiasm or ex- 
 citement visible in his words and demeanour. Nothing, 
 it is said, could have exceeded the sobriety of his mind. 
 He drew his hopes and conclusions from the Bible alone. 
 Prom that source he derived the sure and joyful belief, 
 that, in another world, his renewed faculties and purified 
 nature would enable him to love God more singly, and 
 to serve him more actively, than he had hitherto been 
 enabled to do, and therefore he could not but rejoice. 
 
 During the early part of the last winter of his life, 
 184041, Dr. Hope still continued the practice of his 
 profession. He saw patients at home from ten o'clock 
 till twelve or one. After which he visited St. George's, 
 and drove about seeing patients till five or six ; and pre- 
 ferred this employment to the feverish restlessness of a 
 day spent at home. In his carriage, he usually 'took 
 some devotional work, or he selected some texts, which 
 furnished him with ample meditation during his drive. 
 
 Towards the end of February, he listened to the 
 solicitations of Mrs. Hope to retire altogether from 
 practice, and, on the 30th of March, he left town for 
 Hampstead, with the certain knowledge that he never 
 should return. Thus ended his professional life. Such 
 
JAMES HOPE, M. D. 117 
 
 was the termination of all those dreams of wealth and 
 honour in which he had once so ardently indulged. 
 What, then, was the feeling with which he relinquished 
 all ? It is said, by one who knew him best, that the 
 only feeling of which he was conscious was that of un- 
 alloyed pleasure. He was going to enjoy repose im- 
 perfect indeed but preparatory to that perfect rest to 
 which he was hastening, and for the rapid approach of 
 which he earnestly prayed. Did he not regret the change 
 on account of his only son ? The only remark that he 
 appears to have made as to this, was to the effect that 
 his son, had he lived, would probably have been inde- 
 pendent of a profession, adding, " But I am not sorry 
 for the change, for then he would probably have been 
 more a child of the world than I trust he may now prove 
 to be." Yet this is the same individual who, filled from 
 his earliest years with bright visions of fame, and wealth, 
 and honour, had sacrificed every consideration to gain 
 the treasures he now prizes so lightly. It is well observed 
 by his biographer, that " the Christian alone can discover 
 the cause of so extraordinary a change. In the book 
 of God he finds, that, through the Divine agency, man 
 becomes i a new creature ; old things pass away, and all 
 things become new.' Joyfully did he resign the blessings 
 of this world, because he found, within his grasp, < richer 
 treasures, surpassing honours, purer joys, which shall 
 never fade, never cloy, but endure for ever and ever.' " 
 
118 MEMOIR OP 
 
 Mrs. Hope, who was the only witness of his last few 
 days, wrote an account of them for his family; from 
 which we cannot refrain transcribing a few extracts. 
 
 Sunday, May 9th " On this subject" that deep 
 conviction of sin which alone can make a sinner prize 
 Christ as a Saviour " a painful doubt flashed across my 
 mind ; for though I had frequently heard him insist on 
 the general depravity of human nature, I could not 
 remember to have heard him speak of his own individual 
 sins, and lament them ; except on one occasion, when he 
 was indeed humbled. I explained how great would be 
 my satisfaction at hearing him express his feelings on 
 the subject. He looked up for one moment, and then 
 casting down his eyes and his head, he remained silent 
 for a few minutes, during which time deep, strong, and 
 painful emotions apparently struggled in his breast. At 
 length, in a voice scarcely articulate from agitation, he 
 said, 1 1 always begin my prayers with the mention of 
 my sins, and generally with tears. I always have a deep 
 sense of my own unworthiness. Even now I find all 
 sorts of worldly thoughts and feelings carrying me away 
 from God, and polluting my mind. I cannot say what 
 a grief this is to me ; and it shows me more than ever, 
 that all my righteousness is but a filthy rag. And when 
 I think, on the one hand, of the numberless offences 
 which I have committed ; and, on the other, remember 
 the blessings which I have enjoyed, oh, it is enough to 
 

 JAMES HOPE, M.D. 119 
 
 bow one down to the earth !' These words are, in them- 
 selves, strong expressions ; but the earnestness and deep 
 feeling with which they were uttered made them doubly 
 so. He added, ' I have often taken a practical chapter 
 of the New Testament, and have determined to act up to 
 it during the day ; but alas ! I have often forgotten it 
 altogether ; and when I did remember it, how miserably 
 did I fall short of it ! This, more than anything, showed 
 me the original sin in my nature, and threw me on the 
 promises of Christ. I found it was useless to rest too 
 much on details, but I took fast hold upon the grand 
 leading truth, that Christ is an all-sufficient sacrifice for 
 sin. I think, also, that I had a great fear of God, but 
 I feared him as one fears a parent.' On hearing him 
 speak so decidedly, I expressed the pleasure that I 
 derived from it, adding, that when I remembered how 
 fully he had looked to Christ, especially since Christmas, 
 1839, and what peace he had enjoyed in the anticipa- 
 tion of death, I could not think that Christ would have 
 allowed him to remain in error on any vital point. He 
 immediately answered, ' Long before the time you name, 
 I think I was in the way of salvation, even so long as 
 ten or twelve years ago. When I attended Mr. Howels' 
 chapel, I learned the saving truths of the gospel ; and 
 although I was a most imperfect creature, I believe I 
 might have come within the pale of salvation, because I 
 had then the evidence of the Spirit working a change 
 
120 MEMOIR OF 
 
 within me.' After some farther conversation, he added, 
 ' I cannot express my grief and humiliation at not having 
 been able to keep my attention fixed at church. If Satan 
 had a malicious or wicked thought to suggest, he chose 
 that time. An exciting sermon might, indeed, rouse my 
 attention; but the prayers oh! the prayers. And 
 when I think of the blessings that I have enjoyed, is it 
 not enough to grind me to the dust ?' He then spoke 
 with much warmth and gratitude of the many blessings 
 that had been vouchsafed to him. 
 
 " On the evening before his death he said, * I will 
 not make speeches, but I have two things to say.' The 
 first was an affectionate farewell to myself. In reply, I 
 reminded him of the superior satisfaction which he pos- 
 sessed of having promoted my happiness, not only in 
 this world, but also, as I trusted, in the world to come. 
 He answered meekly, ' It was not I.' Here he was 
 interrupted by coughing. When he was again quiet, I 
 reminded him that he had another thing to say, and 
 begged him to take the earliest opportunity of doing so. 
 He then added, ' The second is soon said. Christ is all 
 in all to me, I have no hope except in him. He is, indeed, 
 All in all' I quoted, < Though I walk through the 
 valley of the shadow of death, thy rod and thy staff 
 they comfort me.' He said, ' They do comfort me. 
 There is no darJcness. I see Jordan, and the heavenly 
 Joshua passing over dry-shod.' Throughout the night, 
 
JAMES HOPE, M.D. 121 
 
 when awake, lie was perfectly calm and collected. At 
 his request I read the 15th chapter of the first Epistle 
 to the Corinthians, and, at a later period, he begged me 
 to repeat texts, which I did from time to time. He 
 frequently asked whether I was cold or tired, made 
 inquiries as to whether I was adequately clothed, and 
 proved, in various ways, that he retained his faculties 
 and his characteristic solicitude for others. He also 
 directed me what medicines to give him, how to prepare 
 them, altering the quantities, and making medical obser- 
 vations from time to time on his state Day 
 
 beginning to dawn, he looked out of the window, and I 
 remarked, ' What a glorious day is dawning on you, my 
 dearest!' He assented with a look of joy. I said, 
 'There will be no sun and no moon there, for the 
 Lamb will be the light thereof.' Looking fixedly before 
 him, he murmured, l Christ I angels I beautiful ! mag- 
 nificent ! delightful!' and then turning to me, with a 
 look as if re-assuring me, ' Indeed, it is.' At one time 
 he said, ' This suffering is little to what Christ suffered 
 on the cross.' I quoted, 'But our light affliction,' &c. 
 A few minutes after he said, * I thank God !' and these 
 were the last connected words that he spoke. * * He 
 continued to breathe till twenty-three minutes past four 
 (May 13, 1841), when he slept in Jesus." 
 
 11 
 
(123) 
 
 * 
 
" In all large bodies of men, many will undoubtedly be found who 
 entertain very erroneous notions concerning religion ; but we utterly 
 repudiate the assertion, that the Medical Profession, more than any 
 other body of professional gentlemen, are open to the charge of infi- 
 delity and scepticism. 
 
 " MEDICINE, OF ALL PROFESSIONS, SHOULD BE THE LEAST SUSPECTED 
 
 OF LEADING TO IMPIETY." 
 
 DR. JAMES GREGORY, 
 
 Prof. Prac. Med University of Edinburgh. 
 
 (124) 
 
MEMOIE OF 
 THOMAS BATEMAN, M.D. 
 
 DR. THOMAS BATEMAN was born at Whitby, in 
 Yorkshire, on the 29th of April, 1778, at which 
 place he died on the 9th of April, 1821. He was, from 
 infancy, of a delicate constitution, and being naturally 
 silent and reserved, manifested but little indication of 
 the talent and ability which afterwards distinguished 
 him. When not at school it was a constant practice 
 with him to sit on the top of a gate near the house, for 
 great part of the day, lost in thought, without seeking 
 either employment or amusement ; so that his father, 
 who was engaged in an extensive medical practice at 
 Whitby, and had little time to spend with his family, 
 used to lament continually to his mother, when he saw 
 Thomas upon "his old seat at the gate," that "that boy 
 would never be good for anything" "a very common 
 prediction," it has been remarked by Mr. D'Israeli, in 
 11 * (125) 
 
126 MEMOIR OF 
 
 his Essay on Literary Characters, " of the friends of 
 such men in their childhood, and which is soon falsified 
 when they are placed in situations favourable to the 
 development of their particular talent." So it was with 
 young Bateman. In his twelfth year, he was placed in 
 the school of the Rev. M. Mackereth, at Thornton, a 
 village twenty miles from Whitby. Here, from the first, 
 he distinguished himself, and took the lead in every 
 branch of learning, with an ardour altogether different 
 from his former habits. He pursued his studies even in 
 his hours of leasure : and almost his only relaxations 
 were music, drawing, and botany. Astronomy and 
 electricity were also among his favourite pursuits ; and 
 without having seen either a planetarium, or an electri- 
 cal machine, and with great disadvantage as to tools and 
 materials, he made both, as well as an ^Eolian harp, from 
 the descriptions in Chambers' Dictionary, cutting out all 
 the wheels of the former with his penknife. His teacher 
 used to observe that his most remarkable faculty was a 
 sound and penetrating judgment, that he was not so 
 much distinguished by quickness, as by the unceasing 
 energy and vigour with which every power of his mind 
 was kept in full and active employment, and brought to 
 bear at once upon every object presented to it. 
 
 At the age of fifteen, he lost his father. His profes- 
 sion had been already determined by his own choice ; 
 and, by the advice of Dr. Beckwith, who had commenced 
 
THOMAS BATEMAN, M. D. 127 
 
 his career as a physician, at Whitby, but was then in 
 practice at York, he was taken home that he might 
 acquire a knowledge of pharmacy, whilst he completed 
 his general education. At nineteen, he went to London, 
 well furnished with the knowledge, classical and scien- 
 tific, proper to his future profession, and trained to 
 habits of industry, observation, and research, which he 
 was subsequently enabled to direct to subjects of high 
 practical value. Being intended to graduate at Edin- 
 burgh, Mr. Bateman's chief objects, in London, were 
 anatomy and the practice of physic. He entered, there- 
 fore, to the lectures at Windmill street, and as physician's 
 pupil at St. George's Hospital, for the winter of 1797-98. 
 Thus prepared, he went to Edinburgh in the following 
 winter, where, after having pursued his studies with the 
 greatest assiduity and attention, he graduated in June, 
 1801. 
 
 Dr. Bateman was now to enter upon a new and impor- 
 tant field. He settled in London for practice, being 
 admitted as a licentiate of the College of Physicians. 
 Here he diligently carried forward his pursuit of im- 
 provement, under Dr. Willan, whose high and merited 
 reputation had induced many young physicians to enter 
 as his pupils at the Public Dispensary. Dr. Bateman's 
 assiduity at that institution, led to his being appointed 
 assistant physician, under a temporary pressure of busi- 
 ness, and, subsequently, to his becoming the colleague 
 of Dr. Willan and Mr. Eearson in 1804 ; and he was 
 
128 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 elected physician to the Fever Hospital, in the same 
 year. His ardour in these offices was unabated by any 
 difficulties so long as his health enabled him to discharge 
 their duties. Those of the latter very important charity 
 were wholly committed to him, and he sustained them 
 for many years without any assistance. He soon like- 
 wise became a contributor to the diffusion of medical 
 knowledge by his pen. His "Dispensary Reports" in 
 the Edinburgh Medical and Surgical Journal, first intro- 
 duced him to the notice of the public as a writer, to the 
 establishment of which periodical he gave efficient sup- 
 port, by contributing a considerable number of very 
 valuable articles. He wrote also most of the medical 
 articles in the Edinburgh Cyclopaedia, and the medical 
 portion of the article on " Imagination" in that work, as 
 well as most of the professional biographies. But he 
 principally distinguished himself as an author, by his 
 "Synopsis," and his "Delineations" of cutaneous dis- 
 eases. In these he followed up the design which Dr. 
 Willan had commenced. The plates are in part those 
 of Dr. Willan, retouched and improved by the engraver, 
 and partly original. Several characteristic representa- 
 tions among them are from Dr. Bateman's own pencil. 
 Altogether they furnish a standard work of most essen- 
 tial importance in facilitating the acquisition of a dis- 
 criminating, or what in technical language is called a 
 diagnostic, tact in these diseases. Dr. Bateman now 
 
THOMAS BATEMAN, M. D. 129 
 
 succeeded Dr. Willan, as the principal authority on all 
 questions relating to affections of the skin. The " Sy- 
 nopsis" was soon translated into the French, German, 
 and Italian languages, and was well received throughout 
 the continent of Europe, of which Dr. Bateman had the 
 gratification of receiving evidence from the highest 
 quarter. The emperor of Russia was pleased to desire 
 that a copy might be sent to him, through the hands of 
 the imperial ambassador in London. And on the com- 
 mand being carefully fulfilled, his majesty farther con- 
 descended to convey to Dr. B. by the same channel, a 
 ring of a hundred guineas value, with an intimation of 
 his pleasure, that any future works written by Dr. 
 Bateman should be transmitted in like manner to St. 
 Petersburgh. 
 
 But amidst his various labours, Dr. Bateman's health, 
 originally delicate, began to give way. To derangement 
 of the digestive organs, and successive attacks of periodic 
 headache, was superadded a gradual failure of the sight 
 of his right eye, which was considered to be of the 
 nature of amaurosis, and the vision of the left eye was 
 to a certain degree likewise affected. It was thought 
 requisite to have recourse to mercury, which unhap- 
 pily produced a most exhausting and distressing train 
 of symptoms, the result of "mercurial erethism," of 
 which he himself published an interesting sketch in 
 the ninth volume of the " Medico- Chirurgical Transac- 
 
130 MEMOIR OF 
 
 tions." From this time he no longer enjoyed good 
 health, and derived little or no benefit from some jour- 
 neys he was induced to take into the north. In the 
 month of April, 1817, he recommenced his attendance 
 at the Fever Hospital, when scarce equal to the duties 
 he had to perform. But an epidemic fever had then 
 appeared in London, and his zeal was not to be restrained. 
 From that time, till the beginning of the following Feb- 
 ruary, he spent from an hour and a half to two hours and 
 a half, daily, in the wards of that hospital, having under 
 his care, during this period, nearly seven hundred pa- 
 tients. He was then himself attacked by fever, and, 
 after his recovery, never gained any tolerable degree of 
 strength, but went on rather declining than improving, 
 until in June, 1819, he was taken ill on the road from 
 London to Middleton, in Durham; being again attacked 
 with alarming languors, in which he was thought to be 
 dying, by himself, and by all around him, and which 
 continually returned if he attempted to make the least 
 exertion. Finding it impossible to proceed to Whitby, 
 as he had intended, he removed to a temporary habita- 
 tion at Bishop Burton. He now determined to give up 
 his appointment to the Public Dispensary; he had al- 
 ready resigned the office of Physician to the Fever Hos- 
 pital, after having discharged it faithfully for fourteen 
 years, and was, in consequence, appointed consulting 
 physician. During the ensuing winter he gradually im- 
 
THOMAS BATEMAN, M.D. 131 
 
 proved in strength so as to be able to take gentle exer- 
 cise on a pony or in a gig almost daily : but on the return 
 of warm weather, early in April, he had a severe attack 
 of languor after a short ride, and ultimately became the 
 subject of a progressive affection of the digestive organs, 
 accompanied with great exhaustion of strength, without 
 fever or any manifest structural disease, of the fatal ten- 
 dency of which he had himself the strongest impression. 
 And now we arrive at the last eventful year of Dr. 
 Bateman's life : the ever memorable era to him, of the 
 commencement and developement of the most momentous 
 change which can possibly affect the human mind. This 
 remarkable event, and its attending circumstances, have 
 been so faithfully and so well detailed by a near relative, 
 that we cannot do better than relate them in the writer's 
 own words. It may be sufficient only to premise, that 
 although Dr. Bateman's moral character had been unim- 
 peachable, and he had always retained a high sense of 
 "honour," and a desire to avoid everything that the 
 world esteems discreditable, he had hitherto not merely 
 remained an utter stranger to the power of vital godli- 
 ness, but had gradually become more and more confirmed 
 in his leaning to the wretched doctrine of MATERIALISM. 
 This lamentable tendency, first acquired during the 
 course of his studies at Edinburgh, had been unhappily 
 increased by the society of some men of considerable 
 talent, who had espoused all its unphilosophical and un- 
 
132 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Christian tenets ; and, although never able fully to em- 
 brace those opinions himself, he was sufficiently influenced 
 by them to become sceptical respecting the truth of 
 Divine revelation. Of course, he was a stranger to the 
 hopes, as well as negligent of the duties of Christianity. 
 "It was on Sunday, the 9th of April," says the wri- 
 ter just referred to, " that he first spoke to me on the 
 subject of religion. He had passed the whole of the day 
 in a state of extraordinary suffering, from languor and a 
 variety of nervous feelings, which he always said it was 
 impossible to describe, further than that they were in- 
 conceivably painful and distressing ; and he went to bed 
 at night with a firm persuasion that he should never 
 again quit it ; and, in fact, he did confine himself to it 
 for the following three weeks, from the mere apprehen- 
 sion of the consequences of exertion. Religion was a 
 subject which, for many reasons, had never been dis- 
 cussed between us. Though the tenor of his life had 
 made me but too well acquainted with the state of his 
 mind, he had always avoided any declaration of his opi- 
 nions, knowing the pain it would give me to hear them. 
 He was habitually fond of argument, and skilled in it ; 
 and I knew that I was quite incompetent to argue with 
 him. I considered, too, that the habit of disputing in 
 favour of any opinion, only serves, in general, to rivet it 
 more firmly in the mind ; men commonly finding their 
 own arguments more convincing than those of their ad- 
 
THOMAS BATE&AN, M. D. 133 
 
 versaries. And, above all, I knew that this was a case 
 in which mere argument must always be insufficient, 
 for it is ' with the heart that man believeth unto right- 
 eousness :' and in most, if not all, cases of scepticism, 
 the will and the affections need to be set right even more 
 than the understanding ; and upon these, argument can 
 have no .influence. On the evening of the day I have 
 mentioned, Dr. Bateman had been expressing to me his 
 conviction that he could not live much longer, and com- 
 plaining of the dreadful nervous sensations which conti- 
 nually harassed him ; and then he added, * But all these 
 sufferings are a just punishment for my long scepticism, 
 and neglect of God and religion.' This led to a conver- 
 sation, in the course of which he observed, that medical 
 men were very generally sceptical ; and that the mis- 
 chief arose from what he considered a natural tendency 
 of some of their studies to lead to materialism. I re- 
 plied, that the mischief appeared to me to originate 
 rather in their neglect to examine into the evidences of 
 the truth of the Bible, as an actual revelation from 0-od ; 
 because, if a firm conviction of that were once established, 
 the authority of the Scriptures must be paramount ; and 
 the tendency of all inferior studies, in opposition to their 
 declarations, could have no weight. He said he believed 
 I was right, and that he had, in fact, been intending to 
 examine fully into the subject, when the complaint in 
 his eyes came on, and shut him out from reading. Our 
 12 
 
134 MEMOIR OF 
 
 conversation ended in his permitting me to read to 
 him the first of Scott's ' Essays on the most Important 
 Subjects in Keligion,' which treats of ' The Divine Inspi- 
 ration of the Scriptures.' He listened with intense ear- 
 nestness ; and when it was concluded, exclaimed, ' This 
 is demonstration ! complete demonstration !' He then 
 asked me to read to him the account given in, the New 
 Testament of the resurrection of our Saviour ; which I 
 did from all the four evangelists. I read also many 
 other passages of Scripture, with some of which he was 
 extremely struck ; especially with that declaration, that 
 4 the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit 
 of God : for they are foolishness unto him : neither can 
 he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.' 1 
 Cor. ii. 14. 
 
 " For two or three days, he showed increasing interest 
 in the subject of religion ; and I read to him continually 
 the Scriptures, and other books which seemed to me best 
 calculated to give him the information he thirsted for. 
 When I went into his room a few mornings after, he 
 said, * It is quite impossible to describe to you the change 
 which has taken place in my mind : I feel as if a new 
 world were opened to me, and all the interests and pur- 
 suits of this have faded into nothing in comparison with 
 it. They seem so mean, and paltry, and insignificant, 
 that my blindness in living so long immersed in them, 
 and devoted to them, is quite inconceivable and astonish- 
 
135 
 
 ing to myself.' He often expressed in the strongest 
 terms, and with many tears, his deep repentance, and 
 his abhorrence of himself for his former sinful life and 
 rebellion against God ; but he seemed to have, from the 
 first, so clear a view of the all-sufficiency of the Saviour's 
 atonement, and of the Christian scheme of salvation, as 
 freed him at once from that distrust of forgiveness which 
 is so apt to afflict persons -at the first sight of their sins, 
 and of the purity and holiness of him ' with whom they 
 have to do.' The self-abasing views which he entertained 
 of himself, necessarily enhanced his sense of the pardon- 
 ing love and mercy of God in Christ Jesus, thus graciously 
 extended to him : and which he felt so strongly, that he 
 was filled with the liveliest emotions of gratitude and 
 joy, and in this happy state continued for several days. 
 " He soon, however, experienced an afflicting reverse 
 of feeling. One evening I left him to visit a near rela- 
 tive, at that time confined to her room in a precarious 
 state of health ; and his mother, who had been in attend- 
 ance upon her, took my place at the bed-side of her son. 
 Dr. Bateman told her, that I had been reading to him 
 various detached portions of Scripture, and that he now 
 wished to hear the New Testament read regularly through 
 from the beginning. She consequently began to read, 
 and had. proceeded as far as the tenth chapter of St. 
 Matthew, when he suddenly exclaimed, that he could 
 not believe in the miracles of the Saviour, and that 
 
 
136 MEMOIR OF 
 
 therefore he must perish for ever.* This suggestion of 
 his spiritual enemy threw him into a state of the most 
 dreadful anguish, and I was immediately sent for to his 
 bed-side. On my arrival he had become a little more 
 composed, but was still in great agitation ; and was pray- 
 ing in agony to be saved, and not to be given up to this 
 dreadful state of unbelief. To comfort his mind, we 
 said what we could from Scripture, and from the expe- 
 rience of other Christians : and he was a little relieved 
 by hearing some passages from an essay in the volume 
 before mentioned, ' On the Warfare and Experience of 
 Believers ;' finding that his was not, as he had supposed, 
 a case of new occurrence ; but that the author of that 
 work was already acquainted with its symptoms, and 
 augured favourably of them, as often accompanying the 
 progress of religion in the soul. Still the idea that his 
 death was fast approaching, and that there was no hope 
 of his mind being convinced before it arrived, quite over- 
 whelmed him. Feeling ourselves to be very inadequate 
 guides and comforters in these afflicting circumstances, 
 we gladly adopted the suggestion of a friend that we 
 should request a neighbouring clergyman of piety and 
 judgment to visit him. Dr. Bateman himself grasped 
 
 * It needs scarcely be pointed out, how much more properly this 
 might be called temptation to unbelief, than unbelief itself. While the 
 dimculty of believing was felt, the awful consequences of not believing 
 were fully admitted ; that is, were firmly believed. 
 
THOMAS BATEMAN, M. D. 
 
 eagerly at the proposal, and I wrote immediately to the 
 clergyman in question ; but he was from home, and was 
 not expected to return for two or three weeks. A few 
 days after this unwelcome intelligence, Dr. Bateman 
 told me, he had no doubt this*disappointment was for his 
 good ; and that it was better for him to be left to him- 
 self, as he did not think anything could have convinced 
 him so fully of the efficacy of prayer, as the sensible 
 relief which he experienced from it during those conflicts 
 of doubt and unbelief with which his mind continued to 
 be harassed. He added, that he now spent whole nights 
 in prayer. He felt perfectly assured that these doubts 
 were the suggestions of the great adversary of souls, and 
 remarked, that they were vividly and manifestly darted, 
 as it were, into his mind, instead of arising from his 
 own reflections, or resulting from any train of reasoning ; 
 and the absurdity of them, in many instances, was so 
 obvious, that his judgment detected it at once, though he 
 still had not power to drive them from the hold they took 
 on his imagination, or to banish them, for the time, from 
 his thoughts. 
 
 "These paroxysms of distress and conflict, which 
 sometimes lasted many hours, he continued subject to 
 for about a fortnight : but they gradually became less 
 long and violent, and he experienced increasingly great 
 relief from prayer during their continuance ; till at 
 length they subsided entirely, and left his mind satisfied 
 
 12* 
 
138 MEMOIR OF 
 
 on all those points which had before presented so many- 
 obstacles to his belief. 
 
 " About this time he received an unexpected visit from 
 a medical friend, whose piety and truly Christian cha- 
 racter distinguish him still more than his eminent abilities 
 and professional skill. This gentleman, with great diffi- 
 culty, succeeded in persuading him that he was by no 
 means in that state of danger and debility which he had 
 apprehended, and that he had the power of taking exer- 
 cise if he could but exert sufficient resolution to attempt 
 it. Experiment convinced him that this opinion was cor- 
 rect : he was prevailed upon to leave his bed, and in a 
 very few days, was able to be Some hours daily in the 
 open air, and to take considerable exercise ; and it is 
 remarkable, that, from this time, he had ne return of 
 languor after fatigue, except in one instance. Thus was 
 he delivered, by the gracious providence of God, from 
 those overwhelming 'apprehensions of immediate death 
 which had been so instrumental in bringing him to 
 Christ, as soon as they had effected that blessed purpose. 
 
 " He now rarely spoke of the state of his mind and 
 feelings ; for such was the extreme reserve of his charac- 
 ter, that it could only be overcome by deep and powerful 
 emotions; and when no longer agitated by these, he 
 returned to his natural habits, and was silent on the 
 subject that mostly deeply interested him. Still it was 
 abundantly evident that it did interest him. The avidity 
 
THOMAS BATEMAN, M. D. 139 
 
 with which he listened to the word of God his eager- 
 ness to attend public worship (which for many years he 
 had entirely neglected), and the heartfelt and devout 
 interest which he obviously took in the service his 
 enlarged and active benevolence the change which had 
 taken place in his tastes, inclinations, and pursuits all 
 testified that he was indeed brought out of darkness into 
 4 marvellous light:' old things had passed away, and all 
 things had become new. 
 
 "In the course of the summer, his health and 
 strength were considerably recruited: but towards the 
 close of it, a little over-exer'tion in walking brought on 
 an accession of fever, and a great aggravation of all the 
 symptoms of his disorder ; but still he continued able to 
 take a little exercise. While he remained in the coun- 
 try, he had much leisure, which was devoted entirely to 
 religious reading ; for every other subject had now 
 become insipid and uninteresting to him ; and never did 
 the pursuits of science and literature afford him such 
 vivid enjoyment as he now received from these hallowed 
 studies. In November, he removed to Whitby for the 
 winter : and his health continued in much the same state 
 till a short time before Christmas, when a walk, rather 
 longer than usual, again produced increased fever and 
 debility ; and from that period his strength and appetite 
 visibly declined, while his spirit was as visibly ripening 
 for heaven. His faith and patience were strengthened; 
 
140 MEMOIR OF 
 
 his hope was increased ; his charity enlarged : yet he was 
 naturally so extremely reserved in the expression of his 
 feelings, that he rarely spoke of them till within the last 
 month of his life, when he rejoiced 'with a joy unspeak- 
 able and full of glory,' which bore down all opposition ; 
 for he experienced a happiness to which all the accumu- 
 lated enjoyments of his whole previous life could bear no 
 proportion or comparison, even that ' peace of God which 
 passeth all understanding,' and which must be felt, or, 
 at least, witnessed, in order to form any just conception 
 of its nature and effects. What a striking example did 
 our dying friend now exhibit to us ! From his early 
 youth he had devoted himself with delight and industry 
 to the acquisition of knowledge and the pursuits of 
 literature and science ; and he had ' had his reward' in 
 the honour and reputation which his success had pro- 
 cured for him,* a reward which he keenly enjoyed and 
 very highly prized. Those who have known only the 
 pleasures which arise from worldly gratifications, surely 
 ought to recollect, that, being confessedly ignorant of 
 the spiritual enjoyments which they despise, they cannot 
 be competent to decide upon their reality or their 
 value : it belongs only to those who have experienced 
 bothy to appreciate either. And how did Dr. Bateman 
 appreciate them ? In contrasting, as he frequently did, 
 his present happiness with all that he had formerly 
 enjoyed and catted happiness, he seemed always at a loss 
 
THOMAS BATEMAN, M. D. 141 
 
 to find words to express how poor, and mean, and despi- 
 cable, all earthly gratifications appeared to him, when 
 compared with that 6 joy and peace in believing,' which 
 now filled his soul : * one particle of which,' he some- 
 times said, ' ten thousand worlds would not tempt him 
 to part with.' And it should be remembered, that this 
 was not the evidence of a man disappointed in his 
 worldly pursuits : he had already, as before observed, 
 * had his reward' in this world he had experienced the 
 utmost success in the path which he had chosen he had 
 been keenly susceptible to intellectual pleasures; and 
 of these, as well as of all inferior amusements, he had 
 enjoyed more than a common portion; but when the 
 only object that can satisfy the affections, and fill the 
 capacities of a rational and immortal being, was revealed 
 to him when he viewed by the eye of faith that life and 
 immortality which are brought to light by the gospel 
 earthly fame, and honour, and pleasure, sank into the 
 dust ; and, in reflecting upon his past life, the only thing 
 that gave him any satisfaction was the hope that his 
 labours might have been beneficial to his fellow-creatures, 
 for whom his charity had now become unbounded. He 
 often said, that ' the blessing of his conversion was never 
 out of his mind day or night ; that it was a theme of 
 perpetual thanksgiving ; and that he never awoke in the 
 night without being overwhelmed with joy and gratitude 
 in the recollection of it.' He always spoke of his long 
 
142 MEMOIE OF 
 
 bodily afflictions with the most devout thankfulness, as 
 having been instrumental in bringing him to God ; and 
 considered his almost total blindness as an especial 
 mercy, because, by shutting out external objects, it had 
 enabled him to devote his mind more entirely to spiritual 
 things. Often, latterly, he expressed an ardent desire to 
 ' depart and to be with Christ ;' but always added, that 
 he was cheerfully willing to wait the Lord's pleasure, 
 certain that if he were continued in this world it was 
 only for his own good, and to make him more meet to 
 be a partaker ' of the inheritance of the saints in light.' 
 " He bore his bodily afflictions with the most exem- 
 plary patience, and even cheerfulness^ and continually 
 expressed his thankfulness that they were not greater ; 
 sometimes saying, * What a blessing it is to be allowed 
 to slip gently and gradually out of life, as I am doing !' 
 He would not allow any one to speak of his sufferings, 
 always saying, 'they did not deserve a stronger name 
 than inconveniences/ He neither complained himself, 
 nor would permit others to complain for him. Once, 
 when the nurse who attended him said, * Oh, that cough ! 
 how troublesome it is!' he replied, 'Have a little 
 patience, nurse : I shall soon be in a better world ; and 
 what a glorious change that will be !' Indeed, the joy 
 of his mind seemed to have absorbed all sense of his 
 physical sufferings. I once remarked to him, that he 
 appeared to have experienced no intermission of these 
 
THOMAS BATEMAN, M. D. 143 
 
 joyful feelings; and he answered, 'For some months 
 past, never, and never the smallest rising of anything 
 like impatience or complaint.' His mind, naturally 
 active and ardent, retained all its powers in full vigour 
 to the 'last moment of his life: and was never once 
 clouded or debilitated, even in the most depressing 
 nervous languors. Indeed, after the whole current of 
 his tastes and affections had been turned into a new 
 channel, its ardour and activity rather increased than 
 diminished, from the deep conviction which he felt of 
 the superiority of his present views and pursuits to all 
 that had hitherto engrossed him. During the last week 
 of his life, especially, the strength and clearness of his 
 intellect and of his spiritual perceptions, were very 
 remarkable ; and on its being one day observed to him, 
 that as his bodily powers decayed, those of his soul 
 seemed to become more vigorous, he replied, ' They do, 
 exactly in an inverse ratio : I have been very sensible 
 of it.' 
 
 " He conversed with the greatest animation all the 
 day, and almost all the night, preceding his death, 
 principally on the joys of heaven and the glorious 
 change he was soon to experience ; often exclaiming, 
 ' What a happy hour will the hour of death be !' He 
 dwelt much on the description of the new Jerusalem in 
 the Revelation of St. John, and listened with great 
 delight to several passages frc/o Baxter's ' Saints' Rest,' 
 
144 MEMOIR OF 
 
 and to some of Watts's hymns on the same subject. 
 Once in the night he said to his mother, ' Surely you 
 are not in tears ! Mine is a case that calls for rejoicing, 
 and not for sorrow. Only think what it will be to drop 
 this poor, frail, perishing body, and to go to the glories 
 that are set before me /' Not more than an hour before 
 his death, when he had been expressing his faith and 
 hope in very animated terms, I remarked to him, how 
 striking the uniformity of faith and of feeling expressed 
 by believers at every distance of time and place, and 
 spoke of it as an indisputable evidence that these 
 graces are wrought by * one and the self-same Spirit,' 
 and as a proof of the truth of the Bible, the promises and 
 descriptions of which are thus so strikingly fulfilled and 
 exemplified. He entered into the argument with his 
 accustomed energy, and assented to its truth with 
 delight. It seemed remarkable, that though he had, 
 during his whole illness, been very sensible of his 
 increasing weakness, and had watched and marked 
 accurately all its gradations, yet he spoke, in the last 
 moments of his life > of going down stairs as usual (he 
 had been carried up and down for several days), and 
 said, ' it could not require more than a very few weeks 
 now to wear him out ;' not appearing to be at all aware 
 that his end was so very near, till about half an hour 
 before his death. Finding himself extremely languid, 
 he took a little milk, and desired that air might be 
 
THOMAS BATEMAN, M.D. 145 
 
 admitted into the room ; and on being asked if he felt 
 relieved at all, said, ' Very little : I can hardly distin- 
 guish, indeed, whether this is a languor or drowsiness 
 which has come over me ; but it is a very agreeable 
 feeling.' Soon after, he said suddenly, *I surely must 
 be going now, my strength sinks so fast ;' and on my 
 making some observation on the glorious prospect before 
 him, he added, ' Oh, yes ! 1 am GLAD to go, if it be the 
 Lord's will.' He shut his eyes, and lay quite composed, 
 and by-and-by said, t What glory ! the angels are waiting 
 for me!' then, after another short interval of quiet, 
 added, ' Lord Jesus, receive my soul!' and to those who 
 were about him, ' Farewell !' These were the last words 
 he spoke : he gradually and gently sunk away, and, in 
 about ten minutes, breathed his last, calmly and without 
 a struggle, at nine in the morning of the 9th of April, 
 the very day on which, twelve months before, bis mind 
 had first been awakened to the hopes and joys of the 
 ever-blessed gospel !" 
 
 13 
 
 
(147) 
 
" I am not surprised that men are not thankful to me; but I wonder 
 that they are not grateful to God for the good which He has made me tha 
 instrument of conveying to my fellow-creatures." 
 
 JENNER, a few days before death. 
 
 "Incomparably great, however, as was the temporal blessing 
 [vaccination] which Jenner was enabled to confer, he knew its com- 
 parative importance; he was well aware that there was an instru- 
 mentality in operation of a higher order, because it respects that im- 
 perishable part of man's nature, concerning which, He who could 
 look through the destinies of a coming Eternity, Himself declared, 
 ' What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose 
 his own soul ?' 
 
 " Rev. Eowland Hill once introduced his friend to a nobleman in 
 these terms: 'Allow me to present my friend Dr. Jenner, who has 
 been the means of saving more lives than any other man.' 'Ah!' 
 replied Jenner, ' would I, like you, could say, souls !' " 
 
 SKETCH OF EDWARD JENNER, M. D. 
 
 (148) 
 
MEMOIE OF 
 JOHN D, GODMAN, M. D., 
 
 PBOFESSOR OF ANATOMY IN THE MEDICAL COLLEGE OF OHIO ; ANA- 
 TOMICAL LECTURER AT PHILADELPHIA ; PROFESSOR OF ANATOMY IN 
 RUTGERS MEDICAL COLLEGE, NEW YORK, &c. 
 
 DR. GODMAN was born in the year 1798, in the 
 city of Annapolis, state of Maryland. His mother 
 died before he was a year old, and his father did not 
 survive long. On the death of his mother he was placed 
 under the care of an aunt, then residing at Wilmington, 
 in the state of Delaware : a lady who, from the supe- 
 riority of her intellect and education, as well as the 
 sweetness of her disposition, and her elevated piety, was 
 eminently qualified to unfold, impress, and direct the 
 youthful mind. Under such culture he received the 
 first rudiments of his education and his earliest moral 
 impressions. 
 
 At the age of four his aunt removed from Delaware to 
 13* (149) 
 
150 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Chestertown, upon the Eastern Shore of Maryland, and 
 here she first placed the interesting orphan at school. 
 He had already become the idol of the family, but now 
 he manifested such a precocity of intellect, such a fond- 
 ness for books, and an aptitude to learn, and withal 
 evinced so much sensibility, frankness, and sweetness of 
 disposition, that he gained the affection and excited the 
 admiration of all. His reverence for truth was such, 
 even from his infancy, that he was never known to equi- 
 vocate. At the age of six his aunt died, and he was left 
 without any suitable protector or guide, exposed to the 
 adversities of fortune, and the snares of an unfriendly 
 world. It appears, however, that the moral and religious 
 impressions which had already been made upon his mind, 
 though obscured for a time, were never wholly obliterated. 
 During his last illness he was often heard to speak in 
 raptures of his aunt, and say, " If I have ever been led 
 to do any good, it has been through the influence of her 
 example, instruction, and prayers." His father had lost 
 the greater part of his estate before his death, and that 
 which remained never came into the hands of his children. 
 Young Godman, therefore, was early taught to rely on 
 his own talents and industry. In this situation he was 
 indented an apprentice to a printer in the city of Balti- 
 timore ; but the occupation was not congenial to his 
 taste ; and after a few years he left the business in dis- 
 gust, and at the same time entered as a sailor on board 
 
JOHN D. GODMAN, M. D. 151 
 
 the flotilla, which was then, the fall of 1814, stationed 
 in the Chesapeake Bay. At the close of the war, hav- 
 ing arrived at the age of fifteen, he was permitted to 
 pursue the inclination of his own mind, and he imme- 
 diately commenced the study of medicine. He first 
 placed himself under the instruction of Dr. Luckey, of 
 Elizabethtown, Pennsylvania, but soon removed to Bal- 
 timore, and entered the office of Dr. Davidge, at that 
 time professor of anatomy in the University of Mary- 
 land. Here he pursued his studies with such diligence and 
 zeal as to furnish, even at that early period, strong indi- 
 cations of his future eminence. So indefatigable was he 
 in the acquisition of knowledge, that he left no opportu- 
 nity of advancement unimproved, and, notwithstanding 
 the deficiencies of his preparatory education, he pressed 
 forward with an energy and perseverance that enabled 
 him not only to rival, but to surpass all his fellows. 
 
 As an evidence of the distinguished attainments he 
 had made, and of the confidence reposed in his abilities, 
 he was called to the chair of anatomy in the university 
 some time before he graduated, to supply 'the place of 
 his preceptor, who was taken from the lectures in conse- 
 quence of a fractured extremity. This situation he filled 
 for several weeks with so much propriety, he lectured 
 with such enthusiasm and eloquence, his illustrations 
 were so clear and happy, as to gain universal applause ; 
 
152 MEMOIR OP 
 
 and at the time he was examined for his degree, the 
 superiority of his mind, as well as the extent and accu- 
 racy of his knowledge, were so apparent, that he was 
 marked by the professors of the university as one des- 
 tined at some future period to confer high honour upon 
 the profession. Upon this occasion a prize medal was 
 awarded him for the best Latin thesis. 
 
 After he graduated he settled at New Holland, in 
 Pennsylvania, but soon left this situation, and repaired 
 to a small village in Anne Arundel county, in his native 
 state, and established himself as a practitioner of medi- 
 cine. Here he entered on the active duties of the pro- 
 fession with the same energy and diligence which had 
 distinguished him while a pupil, devoting all the hours 
 he could spare to professional and other studies. It was 
 at this time that he commenced the study of natural 
 history, a science in which he became so distinguished an 
 adept, and for which he ever after evinced so strong a pas- 
 sion. But the place was too limited for the exercise of 
 his powers ; and not finding those advantages which he 
 wished, for the cultivation of his favourite pursuits, he 
 removed to Baltimore, where he could enjoy more ample 
 opportunities for the study of anatomy, which he justly 
 regarded as the foundation of medical science. 
 
 About this time he formed a connexion by marriage ; 
 an event which contributed equally to his domestic hap- 
 piness and literary advancement. Soon after his mar- 
 
JOHN D. GODMAN, M. D. 153 
 
 riage he removed to Philadelphia, but had scarcely 
 settled in that city when he received a pressing invita- 
 tion to accept the professorship of anatomy in the Medi- 
 cal College of Ohio ; an institution then recently esta- 
 blished. During his western tour he encountered 
 difficulties which would have broken down a spirit less 
 energetic than his own ; but he bore up under his^accu- 
 mulated labours and privations with unshaken firmness 
 and steady perseverance. He, however, remained but 
 one year, and returned to Philadelphia ; and here com- 
 menced that career of research and discovery which laid 
 the foundation of his future eminence. 
 
 More ambitious of fame, and more eager for the 
 acquisition of knowledge, than the accumulation of wealth, 
 Dr. Godman, on settling in Philadelphia, rather retired 
 from the field of practice, that he might employ all his 
 time, and exert all his powers, in scientific pursuits. He 
 there found himself at once removed from the pitiful 
 rivalries and jealousies of the profession, and placed in 
 a situation in which he could enjoy the friendship without 
 alarming the fears of his brethren. 
 
 His main object was to make himself a thorough ana- 
 tomist, and to qualify himself for teaching the science. 
 To this end he opened a room, under the patronage of 
 the University of Pennsylvania, for giving private de- 
 monstrations ; and the first winter he drew around him 
 a class of seventy students. He now found himself 
 
154 MEMOIR OP 
 
 occupying a field which furnished ample scope for the 
 exertion of all his powers, as well as for the gratification 
 of his highest ambition ; and it was while engaged in the 
 discharge of the duties of this situation, that the founda- 
 tion was laid of that fatal disease of which he died ; for 
 so eager was he to acquire knowledge himself, as well as 
 to impart it to those around him, that he would not only 
 expose himself to the foul atmosphere of the dissecting 
 room during the whole day, but often subject himself to 
 the severest toil for a considerable part of the night ; and 
 the moments which were spared from his anatomical 
 labours, instead of being spent in relaxation, or in exer- 
 cise in the open air for the benefit of his health, were 
 employed in composing papers for the medical journals, 
 in copying the results of his anatomical and physiological 
 investigations, in preparing parts of his natural history, 
 or in carrying on other literary and scientific studies. It 
 was impossible that a constitution, naturally delicate, 
 could long remain unimpaired under such strenuous and 
 unremitting exertion. 
 
 After Dr. Godman had prosecuted his anatomical 
 studies in Philadelphia for four or five years, his reputa- 
 tion as an anatomist became so generally known, his 
 fame so widely extended, that the eyes of the profession 
 were directed to him from every part of the country ; 
 and in 1826 he was called to fill the chair of anatomy in 
 Rutgers Medical College, established in the city of New 
 
JOHN D. GODMAN, M. D. 155 
 
 York. There could scarcely have been a stronger testi- 
 mony of the high estimation in which he was held, or of 
 his reputation as a teacher of anatomy, than his appoint- 
 ment to this station ; an institution around which several 
 of the most eminent professors of the country had already 
 rallied ; and which was called into existence under cir- 
 cumstances of rivalry that demanded the highest qualifi- 
 cations in its instructors. This situation, as well as 
 every other in which he had been placed, he sustained 
 with a popularity almost unparalleled. He never ex- 
 hibited in public, but he gathered around him an admir- 
 ing audience, who hung with delight upon his lips. But 
 the duties of the chair, together with his other scientific 
 pursuits, were too arduous, and the climate too rigorous 
 for a constitution already subdued by labour, and broken 
 by disease ; and before he had completed his second 
 course of lectures, he was compelled to retire from the 
 school, and seek a residence in a milder climate. He 
 repaired with his family to one of the West India 
 islands, and remained till the approach of summer, when 
 he returned and settled in Germantown. In this place, 
 and in Philadelphia, he spent the residue of his life. 
 
 From the time Dr. Godman left New York his dis- 
 ease advanced with such a steady pace as to leave but 
 little hope, either to himself or his friends, of his final 
 recovery. He, however, continued almost to the last 
 week of his life to toil in his literary and scientific em- 
 
156 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ployments ; and this, too, with all that ardour and en- 
 thusiasm which distinguished the more youthful part of 
 his career. Not for the acquisition of wealth, for this 
 he could not enjoy ; not for posthumous fame, for this 
 he did not desire. It was, as he affectingly tells us, for 
 the more noble purpose, the support of his family, and 
 the good of his fellow-creatures. 
 
 The productions of Dr. Godman's pen, and the fruits 
 of his labour, are too numerous to be specified. Among 
 them will be found "Anatomical Investigations, com- 
 prising a Description of various Fasciae of the Human 
 Body;" "An Account of some Irregularities of Struc- 
 ture and Morbid Anatomy;" " Contributions to Physi- 
 ological and Pathological Anatomy ;" "A System of 
 Natural History of American Quadrupeds ;" " An 
 Edition of Bell's Anatomy, with Notes;" "Rambles 
 of a Naturalist." Several articles on natural history for 
 the American Enclyclopsedia, beside numerous papers 
 which have appeared in the periodical journals of the 
 day. At one time he was the principal editor of the 
 " Philadelphia Journal of the Medical and Physical Sci- 
 ences." Some time before his death he published a 
 volume of Addresses which he had delivered on different 
 public occasions. Most of these admired productions 
 have been before the public for a considerable time; 
 have been received with high approbation, and several 
 of them have been republished in foreign countries. 
 
JOHN D. GODMAN, M. D. 157 
 
 Those of his works which are purely medical have 
 been read with great interest by the profession, and 
 contain much new and valuable information. His investi 
 gations of the fasciae of the human body, and his de- 
 cription of the intricate part of the animal structure, 
 while they disclose some important- discoveries which he 
 made, exhibit the whole subject in a manner so plain and 
 simple as to divest it of its obscurity, and bring it to the 
 comprehension of the youngest student ; a subject 
 which, till his researches were made known, was but 
 little understood even by the best anatomists. His con- 
 tributions also to physiological and pathological anatomy, 
 though but the scattered fragments of a great work 
 which he had designed, contain discoveries and observa- 
 tions which will be read with the deepest interest by the 
 inquirer after truth. Of this jworks not immediately 
 connected with the profession, his Natural History of 
 American Quadrupeds is the most elaborate, and is 
 published in three volumes. This production will long 
 remain a splendid monument of the genius and industry 
 of its author, and be regarded as a model of composition 
 for works of this description. It should have a place 
 upon the table of every family, and be put into the hands 
 of all the youths of our country. Among the latest 
 productions of his pen are his essays, entitled Rambles 
 of a Naturalist, which were written in the intervals of 
 
 ^ extreme pain and debility. For strong, lively, and 
 14 
 
158 MEMOIR OF 
 
 accurate description, they have scarcely been surpassed. 
 He always came to his subject as an investigator of facts, 
 one who had nothing to learn, but everything to dis- 
 cover; and, like the celebrated Buffon, never availed 
 himself of the labour of others till he had exhausted his 
 own resources. It was this spirit which enabled him to 
 disclose so many new truths, and which gave to all his 
 works the stamp of originality. The value which he 
 placed on original observation, as well as the zeal with 
 which he sought information from this source, may be 
 learned from a single incident, "that in investigating 
 the habits of the shrew mole, he walked many hundred 
 miles." 
 
 But his published works constitute but a part of the 
 labours of his pen; and many things which he sent 
 forth were only fragments of a great system, or the 
 commencement of future researches. He had formed vast 
 plans for prosecuting new investigations in various de- 
 partments of science, which he did not live to accomplish. 
 Though he wrote with great rapidity, and sometimes 
 without much care, yet all his works bear the impress of 
 a mind naturally vigorous, bold, and original, and much 
 disposed to draw from its own resources ; and most of 
 them are written in a style of great elegance and 
 beauty. 
 
 Dr. Godman's intellectual character was very extra- 
 ordinary. He possessed all the characteristic features 
 
JOHN D. GODMAN, M. D. 159 
 
 of a mind of the highest order. Naturally bold, ardent, 
 and enterprising, he never stopped to calculate con- 
 sequences, so far as they regarded himself; but rushed 
 forward with impetuosity to perform whatever he un- 
 dertook. Great and lofty intellectual purposes seemed 
 to be the natural element in which he lived. His 
 perception was quick and accurate ; his memory ex- 
 ceedingly retentive; and he possessed an uncommon 
 facility of abstracting his attention from surrounding 
 objects, and of concentrating all his powers upon the 
 subject of his pursuit. It was this latter trait of mind, 
 no doubt, which gave such effect to all his efforts : while 
 he was indebted to the power of his memory for the 
 remarkable facility he possessed of acquiring languages . 
 for although his early education had been exceedingly 
 limited, he had acquired such a knowledge of the Latin 
 Greek, French, German, Danish, Spanish, and Italian 
 languages, as to read and translate them with fluency, 
 and to write several " of them with elegance. His quick 
 and discriminating powers of observation naturally 
 inclined him to notice the habits and economy of ani- 
 i.ials, and gave him his taste for the study of natural 
 history. 
 
 But the most striking character of his mind was 
 undoubtedly philosophical imagination. It was this trait 
 which conferred upon him such powers of description 
 arid illustration, and imparted freshness and splendour 
 
160 MEMOIR OF 
 
 to everything he touched. All his conceptions were 
 strong, clear, and original, and he possessed the power 
 of holding before him whatever object engaged his atten- 
 tion, till all its parts and relations were brought to view. 
 By those who have listened to his extemporaneous dis- 
 cussions, it is said that, while he was speaking, a thou- 
 sand images seemed to cluster around the subject, and 
 that he had just time to select such as imparted beauty, 
 or furnished the happiest illustration of the object he 
 wished to explain. Yet, while he possessed all this 
 richness and fertility of mind, taste and judgment ever 
 controlled its operations. 
 
 He was a laborious and untiring student, and pos- 
 sessed in a high degree the requisites of all true intel- 
 lectual greatness, the habit of patient investigation, 
 long-continued attention, and a singular love of labour. 
 " How often," says one (to whom he unbosomed the 
 secrets of his heart), u have .1 entreated him, while 
 poring half the night over his books and papers, which 
 were to yield him nothing but empty honour, how often 
 have I begged him to consider his health ; but his ambi- 
 tion and thirst for knowledge were such that, having 
 commenced an investigation, or a language, no difficulty 
 could stop him ; and what he had no time to accomplish 
 in the day he would do at night, instead of enjoying that 
 rest of which he stood in so much need." 
 
 It has been truly and happily said by one who knew 
 
JOHN D. GODMAN, M. D. 161 
 
 him intimately, that his eagerness in the pursuit of 
 knowledge seemed like the impulse of gnawing hunger 
 and an unquenchable thirst ; which neither adversity nor 
 disease could allay. Variety of occupations was the 
 only relaxation which he sought for or desired. 
 
 He composed with rapidity, but not without a high 
 degree of intellectual excitement, and the most abstracted 
 attention. Under such an influence some of his best 
 essays were sent to the press as they first came from his 
 pen, without the smallest correction. 
 
 Considering the defects of his early education, his 
 acquisitions, for his years, were astonishingly great. 
 Indeed, there were but few subjects of general literature 
 with which he was not, more or less, acquainted. 
 
 But it was his accurate knowledge of anatomy and 
 physiology, and his uncommon power of teaching these 
 branches of medicine, which gave him his strongest 
 claims to regard as a man of science ; and had his life 
 and health been prolonged so as to have directed the 
 whole energy of his mind to the cultivation of this 
 department of his profession, he would probably have 
 laid open new sources of knowledge, discovered new 
 laws, and reduced to order those scattered materials 
 already k.nown ; and the whole study might thus have 
 been simplified and enriched by his labours. 
 
 His method of teaching anatomy was entirely ana- 
 lytical, and peculiar in this respect, that he performed 
 14* 
 
162 MEMOIR OP 
 
 all his dissections in the presence of the class, demon- 
 strating the different parts of the animal structure in 
 succession, as they were unfolded by the knife. But 
 this method, however well suited to a private class in the 
 dissecting room, causes too much confusion and delay to 
 be practised with success while lecturing by one less 
 dexterous and skilful than himself. 
 
 Dr. Godman, in his manners, was plain, simple, and 
 unostentatious ; yet he possessed that warmth and affa- 
 bility which rendered him accessible to all, and the 
 deligUt of the social circle. His feelings in everything 
 were ardent and decided. He was devotedly attached 
 to his friends ; towards his enemies he was impatient, 
 and felt keenly their revilings. In his conversation he 
 was fluent, and, though unstudied, was often brilliant, 
 and always full of point and power. 
 
 He was particularly distinguished for simplicity and 
 directness in uttering his thoughts, which always indi- 
 cated to those he addressed the absence of selfishness 
 and concealment. No enigmatical expressions, no innu- 
 endoes, were ever heard from his lips. Dark and distant 
 insinuations were his utter abhorrence. In whatever he 
 said, and in whatever he did, he put forth his whole soul. 
 He was always cheerful, and apparently happy, even 
 amid the deepest adversity and the keenest suffering. 
 
 The following just and elegant tribute is from the 
 pen of one who, above most others, knew Dr. Godman 's 
 
JOHN D. GODMAN, M. D. 163 
 
 worth that distinguished scholar and gentleman, Robert 
 Walsh, Esq. : 
 
 " The tributes which have been paid in the news- 
 papers to the late Dr. Godman, were especially due to 
 the memory of a man so variously gifted by nature, and 
 so nobly distinguished by industry and zeal in the 
 acquisition and advancement of science. He did not 
 enjoy early opportunities of self-improvement, but he 
 cultivated his talents, as he approached manhood, with a 
 degree of ardour and success which supplied all deficien- 
 cies ; and he finally became one of the most accomplished 
 general scholars and linguists, acute and erudite natu- 
 ralists, ready, pleasing, and instructive lecturers and 
 writers of his country and era. The principal subject 
 of his study was anatomy in its main branches, in which 
 he excelled in every respect. His attention was much 
 directed also to physiology, pathology, and natural his- 
 tory, with an aptitude and efficiency abundantly proved 
 by the merits of his published works, which we need not 
 enumerate. 
 
 " We do not now recollect to have known any in- 
 dividual who inspired us with more respect for his intel- 
 lect and heart than Dr. Godman; to whom knowledge 
 and discovery appeared more abstractly precious ; whose 
 eye shed more of the lustre of generous and enlightened 
 enthusiasm ; whose heart remained more vivid and 
 sympathetic amid professional labour and responsibility, 
 
164 MEMOIR OF 
 
 always extremely severe and urgent. Considering the 
 decline of his health, for a long period, and the pressure 
 of adverse circumstances, which he too frequently expe- 
 rienced, he performed prodigies as a student, an author, 
 and a teacher ; he prosecuted extensive and diversified 
 researches ; composed superior disquisitions and reviews, 
 and large and valuable volumes ; and in the great num- 
 ber of topics which he handled simultaneously, or in 
 immediate succession, he touched none without doing 
 himself credit, and producing some new development of 
 light, or happy forms of expression. 
 
 " He lingered for years under consumption of the 
 lungs ; understood fully the incurableness of his melan- 
 choly state ; spoke and acted with an unfeigned and 
 beautiful resignation ; toiled at his desk to the last day 
 of his thirty-two years, still glowing with the love of 
 science and the domestic affections. " 
 
 But there remains another view of Dr. Godman to 
 which no allusion has been made: his MORAL AND 
 RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. No apology is due for exhibit- 
 ing one so admirable, and so worthy of imitation, and 
 one which proved his only solace in sickness, cheered 
 him as he approached the valley of death, and shed 
 light and immortality around his dying couch. 
 
 It had been the misfortune of Dr. Godman, as that 
 of many eminent members of his profession before 
 him, to form his philosophical and religious opinions 
 
JOHN D. GODMAN, M. D. v 165 
 
 after the model of the French naturalists of the last cen- 
 tury ; the most distinguished of whom were deists and 
 atheists ; and such is man in his natural, his fallen con- 
 dition, that even while surrounded by the most magnifi- 
 cent displays of divine power and wisdom, and with his 
 eyes directed to those very objects, and his attention 
 arrested by those very laws which proclaim the existence 
 and the presence of an almighty Power, that he over- 
 looks and passes by the evidences they furnish of the 
 existence of a Deity ; and this, often, under the specious, 
 but delusive pretext of casting off the shackles of preju- 
 dice and superstition, and of giving the reins to free, 
 enlightened, and philosophical inquiry. It was the case 
 with Dr. Godman ; for while assisted by such lights as 
 these, and guided alone in his investigations by perverted 
 reason, he became, as he tells us, an established infidel, 
 rejecting revelation, and casting all the evidences of an 
 existing God beneath his feet. 
 
 It was not till the winter of 1827, while engaged in 
 his course of lectures in New- York, that he was arrested 
 in his career, and brought to an experimental knowledge 
 of the truth. At this time an incident occurred which 
 led him to a candid perusal of the gospel, as contained 
 in the New Testament. It was a visit to a deathbed ; 
 the deathbed of a Christian ; the deathbed of a student 
 of medicine. There he saw what reason could not ex- 
 plain, nor philosophy fathom. He opened his Bible, 
 
166 MEMOIR OF 
 
 and the secret was unfolded. From this time he became 
 a devoted student of the Scriptures. How far they 
 were made the efficient cause of his conversion to Chris- 
 tianity will best appear from his own eloquent pen. 
 
 The following is an extract from a letter he addressed 
 to a medical friend, Dr. Judson, of Washington city, 
 a surgeon in the navy of the United States, who was at 
 that time in the last stage of consumption : 
 
 G-ermantown, Deo. 25, 1828. 
 " In relation to dying, my dear friend, you talk like a 
 sick man, and just as I used to do when very despondent. 
 Death is a debt we all owe to nature, and must eventually 
 ensue from a mere wearing out of the machine, if not 
 from disease. The time when, makes no difference in 
 the act of dying to the individual ; for, after all, it ter- 
 minates in corporeal insensibility, let the preceding an- 
 guish be never so severe. Nature certainly has a strong 
 abhorrence to this cessation of corporeal action, and all 
 animals have a dread of death who are conscious of its 
 approach. A part of our dread of death is purely phy- 
 sical, and is avoidable only by a philosophical conviction 
 of its necessity ; but the greater part of our dread, and 
 the terrors with which the avenues to the grave are sur- 
 rounded, are from another, and a more potent source. 
 ' 'Tis conscience that makes cowards of us all,' and 
 forces us by our terrors to confess that we dread some- 
 thing beyond physical dissolution, and that we are terri- 
 
JOHN D. GODMAN, M. D. 167 
 
 fied, not at merely ceasing to breathe, but that we have 
 not lived as we ought to have done, have not effected the 
 good that was within the compass of our abilities, and 
 neglected to exercise the talents we possessed to the 
 greatest advantage. The only remedy for this fear of 
 death is to be sought by approaching the Author of all 
 things in the way prescribed by himself, and not accord- 
 ing to our own foolish imaginations. Humiliation of 
 pride, denial of self, subjection of evil tempers and dis- 
 positions, and an entire submission to his will for sup- 
 port and direction, are the best preparatives for such an 
 approach. A perusal of the gospel, in a spirit of real 
 inquiry, after a direction how to act, will certainly teach 
 the way. In these gospels the S'aviour himself has 
 preached his own doctrines, and he who runs may read. 
 He has prescribed the course ; he shows how the approval 
 and mercy of Gf-od may be won; he shows how awfully 
 corrupt is man's nature, and how deadly his pride and 
 stubbornness of heart, which cause him to try every sub- 
 terfuge to avoid the humiliating confession of his own 
 weakness, ignorance, and folly. But the same blessed 
 hand has stripped death of all the terrors which brooded 
 around the grave, and converted the gloomy receptacle of 
 our mortal remains into the portal of life and light. 
 let me die the death of th& righteous ; let my last end 
 and future state be like his ! 
 
 " This is all I know on the subject. I am no theo- 
 
168 MEMOIR OF 
 
 logian, and have as great an aversion to priestcraft as 
 one can entertain. I was once an infidel, as I told you 
 in the West Indies. I became a Christian from convic- 
 tion, produced by the candid inquiry recommended to 
 you. I know of no other way in which death can be 
 stripped of its terrors; certainly none better can be 
 wished. Philosophy is a fool, and pride a madman. 
 Many persons die with what is called manly firmness ; 
 that is, having acted a part all their lives according to 
 their prideful creed, they must die game. They put on 
 as smooth a face as they can, to impose on the specta- 
 tors, and die firmly. But this is all deception ; the true 
 state of their minds at the very time, nine times out of 
 ten, is worse than the most horrible imaginings even of 
 hell itself. Some who have led lives adapted to sear 
 their conscience, and petrify all the moral sensibilities, 
 die with a kind of indifference similar to that with which 
 a hardened convict submits to a new infliction of dis- 
 graceful punishment. But the man who dies as a man 
 ought to die is the humble-minded, believing Christian ; 
 one who has tasted and enjoyed all the blessings of cre- 
 ation ; who has had an enlightened view of the wisdom 
 and glory of his Creator; who has felt the vanity of 
 merely worldly pursuits and motives, and been permit- 
 ted to know the mercies ofa blessed Redeemer as he 
 approaches the narrow house appointed for all the 
 living. 
 
JOHN D. GODMAN, M. D. 169 
 
 " Physical death may cause his senses to shrink and 
 fail at the trial ; but his mind, sustained by the Rock of 
 ages, is serene and unwavering. He relies not on his 
 own righteousness, for that would be vain ; but the arms 
 of mercy are beneath him the ministering spirits of 
 the Omnipotent are around him. He does not die man- 
 fully, but he rests in Jesus ; he blesses his friends, he 
 casts his hope on One all powerful to sustain, and 
 mighty to save ; then sleeps in peace. He is dead but 
 liveth ; for He who is the resurrection and the life has 
 declared, * Whoso believeth on me, though he were 
 dead, yet shall he live. And whosoever liveth, and be- 
 lieveth in me, shall never die.' ' 
 
 This letter, which so truly contrasts the deathbed 
 scene of the infidel with that of the Christian, so beauti- 
 fully portrays the history of the change which had been 
 effected in Dr. Godman's own sentiments and affec- 
 tions, and so clearly points the benighted wanderer to 
 the true source of life and light, was not lost upon his 
 friend to whom it was addressed. It described his con- 
 dition, and it reached his heart. 
 
 Dr. Judson, though religiously instructed when young, 
 having a pious clergyman for his father, and another for 
 his elder brother, [Dr. Judson, the distinguished mission- 
 ary to Burmah, now gone to his reward in heaven,] yet 
 he had long since freed himself from what he called the 
 prejudices of education, the shackles of priestcraft, and 
 15 
 
170 MEMOIR OF 
 
 was ranging the fields of infidelity. He had acquired 
 wealth and reputation ; was an estimable man in all the 
 domestic relations of life, and a highly respected mem- 
 ber of his profession ; but the self-denying doctrines of 
 the Saviour were too humbling to his proud spirit, and 
 he could not submit to their influence. At the time he 
 received Dr. Godman's letter, however, he was gloomy 
 and despondent ; looking forward with fearful forebod- 
 ings to the period of his dissolution, which seemed not 
 far distant. He had no confidence but that of the scep- 
 tic, no hope but that of ceasing to be. Aware of the 
 fatal nature of the disease under which he had lingered 
 for years, he had long been arming himself to meet the 
 king of terrors with composure, that he might die like a 
 philosopher " with manly firmness:" but, as he drew 
 nearer to the grave, the clouds and darkness thickened 
 around him, and he began to fear that there might be 
 something beyond this narrow prison. He had hitherto 
 refused all religious intercourse, but now his infidelity 
 began to give way, and he inquired with solicitude, " Is 
 there such a thing as the new birth, and if so, in what 
 does it consist ?" He was directed to the gospel for the 
 answer. He at length consented to make the investiga- 
 tion recommended by Dr. Godman. He took up the 
 New Testament, and read it in the spirit of candid 
 inquiry. A conviction of the truth of its doctrines 
 fastened upon him. He now solicited the advice and 
 

 
 JOHN D. GODMAN, M. D. 171 
 
 prayers of a pious clergyman. Yet he could not con- 
 sent to relinquish the sentiments which he had so long 
 cherished without the clearest proof; and he disputed 
 every inch of ground with great acuteness and ability : 
 but the truth was exhibited by this venerable divine 
 [the Rev. William Ryland] with such force and simpli- 
 city, that it overcame every argument he could-produce, 
 and he saw clearly the folly of his sceptical opinions. 
 The clouds were dissipated, light broke in upon his mind, 
 and he was enabled to take hold of the promises. The 
 remaining days of his life were devoted to fervent prayer, 
 and the constant study of the Scriptures, which filled 
 his soul with divine composure, and enabled him to rely 
 with undoubting confidence on the infinite merits of his 
 Redeemer, and with his last breath to cry "Peace, 
 peace." If he did not die with "manly firmness" he 
 "rested in Jesus" 
 
 The exercises of such a mind as Dr. Godman's, dur- 
 ing a long period of affliction, cannot fail to be interest- 
 ing, as well to the philosopher as to the Christian, and 
 more especially as expressed by himself. I shall, there- 
 fore, present a few brief extracts from some of his cor- 
 respondence at that period. 
 
 "Philadelphia, Feb. 17, 1829. 
 " My Dear Friend : Since my last to you, my health 
 has suffered various and most afflicting changes. The 
 
172 MEMOIR OF 
 
 unusual severity of the weather, and other scarcely per- 
 ceptible causes, induced an attack of inflammation in the 
 diseased lung, which in my enfeebled condition required 
 more of depletion, and reduction of diet, than could be 
 readily borne ; hemorrhage ensued on the third or fourth 
 day, which relieved the local affection considerably, and 
 by the aid of blistering frequently, and perfect rest, I 
 gradually amended. Still the great suffering caused by 
 the mental and corporeal debility was beyond anything 
 ever before experienced by me, even after the active con- 
 dition of disease was checked. But thanks to the 
 mercies of Him who is alone able to save, the valley and 
 shadow of death were stripped of their terrors, and the 
 descent to the grave was smoothed before me. Relying 
 on the mercies and infinite merits of the Saviour, had it 
 pleased God to call me then, I believe I should have died 
 in a peaceful, humble confidence. But I have been 
 restored to a state of comparative health, perhaps nearly 
 to the condition in which I was when I wrote to Dr. Jud- 
 son ; and I am again allowed to think of the education 
 of my children, and the support of my family. * * 
 
 " Believe me truly your friend, 
 "Professor SEWALL. J. D. GODMAN." 
 
 In answer to a suggestion which was made to him, of 
 the propriety of leaving behind him a memoir of his life, 
 he says : "It has long been my intention, as my life has 
 
JOHN D. GODMAN, M. D. 173 
 
 been a curious one, to put a short account of it together 
 for the benefit of my children and others." 
 
 It .appears, however, from some lines which he wrote 
 at a later period of his life, that he never accomplished 
 this object ; for in a manuscript volume which he sent to 
 a friend, and which he intended to fill with original 
 pieces of his own composition, he writes as follows : 
 
 " Did I not in all things feel most thoroughly con- 
 vinced that the overruling of our- plans by an all-wise 
 Providence is always for good, I might regret that a part 
 of my plan cannot be executed. This was to relate a 
 few curious incidents from among the events of my most 
 singularly guided life, which, in addition to mere novelty 
 or peculiarity of character, could not have failed practi- 
 cally to illustrate the importance of inculcating correct 
 religious and moral principles, and imbuing the mind 
 therewith from the very earliest dawn of intellect, from 
 the very moment that the utter imbecility of infancy 
 begins to disappear. May His holy will be done, who 
 can raise up abler advocates to support the truth ! This 
 is my first attempt to write in my Token ; why may it 
 not be the last ? Oh ! should it be, believe me that the 
 will of God will be most acceptable. Notwithstanding 
 the life of neglect, sinfulness, and perversion of heart, 
 which I so long led before it pleased him to dash all my 
 idols in the dust, I feel an humble hope in the boundless 
 mercy of pur blessed Lord and Saviour, who alone can 
 15* 
 
174 MEMOIR OF 
 
 save the soul from merited condemnation. May it be in 
 the power of those who chance to read these lines to say, 
 Into thy hands I commend my spirit, for thou hast re- 
 deemed me, Lord ! thou God of truth." 
 
 On communicating to Dr. Godman an account of the 
 last moments of his friend, Dr. Judson, he responds in 
 the following feeling and beautiful manner : 
 
 " G-ermantown, May 21, 1829. 
 
 " My Dear Friend : I feel very grateful for your 
 attention in sending me an account of our dear Judson's 
 last moments. After all his doubts, difficulties, and 
 mental conflicts, to know that the Father of mercies was 
 pleased to open his eyes to the truth, and shed abroad 
 in his heart the love and salvation offered through the 
 Redeemer, is to me a source of the purest gratification, 
 and a cause of the most sincere rejoicing. The bare 
 possibility of my having been even slightly instrumental 
 in effecting the blessed change of mind he experienced, 
 excites in me emotions of gratitude to the Source of all 
 good which words cannot express. 
 
 " My health has been in a very poor condition since 
 my last to you. My cough and expectoration have been 
 generally bad, and my body is emaciated to a very great 
 degree. The warm weather now appears to have set in, 
 and possibly I may improve a little ; otherwise it will 
 not be long before I follow our lately departed friend. 
 
175 
 
 Let me participate in the prayers you offer for the sick 
 and 'afflicted, and may God grant me strength to die to 
 his honour and glory, in the hopes and constancy derived 
 from the merits and atonement of the blessed Saviour. 
 With my best wishes for your health and prosperity, I 
 remain sincerely yours, 
 
 "Professor SEWALL. J. D, GODMAN." 
 
 "Philadelphia, Oct. 6, 1829. 
 
 "My Dear Friend: My health is, as for a con- 
 siderable time past, in a very tolerable condition ; that 
 is, I can sit up a great part of the day writing or read- 
 ing without much injury. My emaciation is great, and, 
 though not very rapid, is steady ; so that the change in 
 my strength takes place almost imperceptibly. On the 
 whole, though I suffer greatly, compared with persons in 
 health, yet so gently have the chastenings of the Lord 
 fallen upon me, that I am hourly called upon for thank- 
 fulness and gratitude for his unfailing mercies. Equal 
 cause have I had for rejoicing that I have learned to put 
 my whole trust in him ; as he has raised me up help and 
 friends in circumstances which seemed to render even 
 hope impossible; and has blessed me and mine with 
 peace and content in the midst of all afflictions, trials, 
 and adversity. 
 
 " Knowing experimentally the value of implicit sub- 
 mission of all thoughts and desires to his most holy will, 
 
176 MEMOIR OF 
 
 it is no small source of distress to me to see how many 
 of my most valued friends live in the habitual neglect 
 
 of a happiness so pure, so attainable, and admirable." 
 * * * * * * # 
 
 Dr. Godman's religious feelings, though ardent, were 
 not bigoted. In him religion was not that cold, selfish, 
 and narrow principle which shuts out from his confidence 
 all not of his own faith ; nor did it consist in a loud pro- 
 fession of a particular doctrine or creed. It was the 
 religion of the heart, deep, sincere, and as comprehen- 
 sive as the charity of heaven ; embracing all the humble, 
 faithful, and really good of every sect and denomination 
 of Christians. 
 
 In the concluding part of the above letter, after 
 speaking of the different religious denominations in 
 terms of great liberality and candour, he says : 
 
 " However, I find all really religious persons to be 
 of one mind. Those who have drunk at the undefiled 
 spring of truth, as set forth in the New Testament, with- 
 out obscuration of human creeds or tradition, I have 
 never found to differ in any respect that was of the 
 slightest importance ; and, therefore, with such persons, 
 however called, I can always communicate advantage- 
 ously. Sincerely your friend, 
 
 "Professor SEW ALL. . J. D. GODMAN." 
 
 His strong and practical views of the authenticity 
 
JOHN D. GODMAN, M. D. 177 
 
 of Christianity are clearly exhibited in the following 
 extract which he wrote not long before his death : 
 
 " Is proof wanting that these gospels are true ? It 
 is only necessary for an honest mind to read them can- 
 didly to be convinced. Every occurrence is stated 
 clearly, simply, and unostentatiously. The narrations 
 are not supported by asseverations of their truth, nor 
 by parade of witnesses; the circumstances described 
 took place in presence of vast multitudes, and are told 
 in that downright, unpretending manner, which would 
 have called forth innumerable positive contradictions had 
 they been untrue. Mysteries are stated without attempt 
 at explanation, because explanation is not necessary to 
 establish the existence of facts, however mysterious. 
 Miracles, also, attested by the presence of vast numbers, 
 are stated in the plainest language of narration, in 
 which the slightest working of imagination cannot be 
 traced. This very simplicity, this unaffected sincerity, 
 and quiet affirmation, have more force than a thousand 
 witnesses, more efficacy than volumes of ambitious 
 effort to support truth by dint of argumentation. 
 
 "What motive could the evangelists have to falsify? 
 The Christian kingdom is not of this world, nor in it. 
 Christianity teaches disregard of its vanities ; depreci- 
 ates its honours and enjoyments, and sternly declares 
 that none can be Christians but those who escape from 
 its vices and allurements. There is no call directed to 
 
178 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ambition, no gratification proposed to vanity: the 
 sacrifice of self, the denial of all the propensities which 
 relate to the gratification of passion or pride, with the 
 most humble dependence upon God, are invariably taught, 
 and most solemnly enjoined, under penalty of the most 
 awful consequences ! Is it then wonderful that such a 
 system should find revilers ? Is it surprising that scep- 
 tics should abound, when the slightest allowance of be- 
 lief would force them to condemn all their actions ? Or 
 is it to be wondered at that a purity of life and conver- 
 sation so repugnant to human passions, and a humility 
 so offensive to human pride, should be opposed, rejected, 
 and contemned ? Such is the true secret of the opposi- 
 tion to religion, such the cause inducing men who lead 
 unchristian lives to array the frailties, errors, weakness, 
 and vices of individuals, or sects, against Christianity, 
 hoping to weaken or destroy the system by rendering 
 ridiculous or contemptible those who profess to be 
 governed by its influence, though their conduct shows 
 them to be acting under an opposite spirit. 
 
 " What is the mode in which this most extraordinary 
 doctrine of Christianity is to be diffused ? By force 
 temporal power temporal rewards earthly triumphs ? 
 None of these. By earnest persuasion gentle entreaty 
 brotherly love paternal remonstrance. The dread 
 resort of threatened punishment comes last exhibited 
 in sorrow, not in anger ; told as a fearful truth, not de- 
 
JOHN D. GODMAN, M. D. 179 
 
 nounced with vindictive exultation ; while, to the last 
 moment, the beamy shield of mercy is ready to be inter- 
 posed for the saving of the endangered. 
 
 " Human doctrines are wavering and mutable: the 
 doctrines of the blessed and adorable Jesus, our Saviour, 
 are fixed and immutable. The traditions of men are 
 dissimilar and inconsistent; the declarations of the gos- 
 pel are harmonious, not only with each other, but with 
 the acknowledged attributes of the Deity, and the well 
 known condition of human nature. 
 
 " What do sceptics propose to give us in exchange 
 for this system of Christianity, with its < hidden myste- 
 ries/ * miracles,' ' signs and wonders?' Doubt, confu- 
 sion, obscurity, annihilation ! Life without higher 
 motive than selfishness ; death without hope ! Is it 
 for this that their zeal is so warmly displayed in prose- 
 lyting ? Is such the gain to accrue for the relinquish- 
 ment of our souls ? In very deed this is the utmost they 
 have to propose, and we can only account for their ran- 
 corous efforts to render others like themselves, by 
 reflecting that misery loves company." 
 
 In the last letter ever received from him he ob- 
 serves : "I have just concluded the publication of the 
 translation of Levasseur's account of Lafayette's pro- 
 gress through the United States, which will appear next 
 week. 
 
 " My health has for the last week or two been very 
 
180 MEMOIR OF 
 
 good, for me ; since, notwithstanding my rather excessive 
 application during this time, I continue to do well. My 
 cough and expectoration are sufficiently troublesome; 
 but, by light diet, and avoiding all irritation, I have but 
 very little trouble from night sweats, and generally sleep 
 tolerably well. My emaciation does not appear to 
 advance very rapidly, though there is no reason to be- 
 lieve it will cease. 
 
 " My time is so exceedingly occupied by the literary 
 business I am engaged in, that it is with great difficulty 
 that I can attend to any other affairs. However, I have 
 always intended to leave behind me the sort of memo- 
 randa you wish for, which my friends may use at their 
 discretion. I have to-day, as above mentioned, concluded 
 one book, which leaves me at liberty to write some long 
 deferred letters. To-morrow I must resume my pen to 
 complete some articles of zoology for the Enclyclopaedia 
 Americana, now preparing in Boston. It shall be my 
 constant endeavour to husband my strength to the last ; 
 and by doing as much as is consistent with safety for the 
 good of my fellow-creatures, endeavour to discharge a 
 mite of the immense debt I owe for the never failing 
 bounties of Providence." 
 
 He did husband his strength, and he toiled with 
 his pen almost to the last hours of his life ; and by 
 thus doing has furnished a singular evidence of the 
 possibility of uniting the highest attainments in science, 
 
JOHN D. GODMAN, M.D. 181 
 
 and the most ardent devotion to letters, with the firmest 
 belief and the purest practice of the Christian. But the 
 period of his dissolution was not distant : the summons 
 arrived ; and conscious that the messenger who had been 
 long in waiting could not be bribed to tarry, he com- 
 mended his little family in a fervent prayer to Him who 
 has promised to be tho " Father of the fatherless, and 
 the widow's God;" and then with uplifted eyes and 
 hands, and a face beaming with joy and confidence, 
 resigned his spirit into the arms of his Redeemer, on the 
 morning of the 17th of April, 183Q, aged thirty-two 
 years. 
 
 A friend, who was his constant companion during 
 his sickness, and witnessed his last moments, writes 
 thus : 
 
 "You ask me to give an account of his last mo- 
 ments : they were such as have robbed me of all terror 
 of death, and will afford me lasting comfort through life. 
 The same self-composure and entire resignation which 
 were so remarkable through his whole sickness, supported 
 him to the end. it was not death it was a release 
 from mortal misery to everlasting happiness! Such 
 calmness when he prayed for us all, such a heavenly 
 composure, even till the breath left him, you would have 
 thought he was going only a short journey. During the 
 day his sufferings had been almost beyond enduring. 
 Frequently did he pray that the Lord would give him 
 16 
 
182 MEMOIR OF JOHN D. GODMAN, M.D. 
 
 patience to endure all till the end, knowing that it could 
 not be many hours ; and truly his prayers were heard. 
 * Lord Jesus, receive my soul !' were the last words he 
 uttered ; and his countenance appeared as if he had a 
 foretaste of heaven even before his spirit left this 
 world." 
 
r. Warn iorbon. 
 
 (183) 
 
" That the rejection of Revealed Religion implies no superiority of 
 intellect, nor attainments in Learning and Science, has been abundantly 
 demonstrated by the records of almost every age : for Christianity has 
 incontestably enrolled in her registers the names of men, whose talents 
 and acquirements, whose labours and writings, surpass all that can 
 be adduced to support the credit of the adversaries of the Christian 
 
 faith." 
 
 JOHN PEARSON, F. R. S., F. Ir. S., M. R. J. 
 
 Senior Surgeon of Lock Hospital, $c. 
 
 (184) 
 
MEMOIR OF 
 WILLIAM GOKDON, M.IX, F.L.S. 
 
 PARTI. 
 
 HIS CHARACTER AS A PROFESSIONAL MAN AND CITIZfiN. 
 
 WILLIAM GORDON was born at Fountains Hall, 
 August 2, 1801. Some of his ancestors were 
 distinguished for high literary attainments, and to the 
 intelligence of his parents he was largely indebted for 
 the ardent love of study, and the great value he placed 
 upon sound learning, which distinguished him throughout 
 life. He was liberally educated at Ripon, a city not far 
 from his birth-place. On leaving Ripon, he was put as 
 an apprentice to a general practitioner of physic at 
 Otley. A reverse in the fortune of his father embar- 
 rassed the course of the son, but not so as to alter the 
 purpose of the latter to obtain a thorough training for 
 the profession which he had chosen. By the kindness 
 of a friend, who lent him money, he was enabled to 
 16 * (185) 
 
186 MEMOIR OF 
 
 go to London, and commence his studies ; and, after 
 continuing there for some time, he, by the same means, 
 entered the University of Edinburgh, in order to com- 
 plete his course, and receive his medical degree. After 
 a residence there of three years, and as he was about to 
 present himself for the degree, he was induced to settle 
 at Welton, about nine miles from Hull, as a general 
 practitioner, intending to return to the University the 
 following year for his diploma ; but this was not accom- 
 plished until several years afterwards, when, however, it 
 was awarded with great honour. 
 
 In 1826, before he graduated at Edinburgh, he mar- 
 ried a daughter of James Lowthorp, Esq., of Welton 
 Hall. Having acquired a lucrative practice, many warm 
 friends, and extensive influence at Welton, he was induced 
 to remain there for several years. In 1841 he settled 
 at Hull, and continued to reside there until the period 
 of his death, February 7th, 1849. 
 
 Dr. Gordon was a man of education of science. 
 His mind was sound, and always actively engaged ; he 
 was a thinking man in a double sense ever thinking, 
 and always thinking for himself. His whole history 
 exhibits the Scholar, the Physician, and the Philosopher. 
 The following "System of Study," found among his 
 papers after death, will indicate the character of his 
 mind, and the range of his studies, whilst a beginner in 
 medical practice, at Welton. The paper bears date 
 August, 1827. 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 187 
 
 MONDAY Natural Philosophy. 
 
 TUESDAY Chemistry, Pharmacy, Mineralogy, or Ge- 
 ology. 
 
 WEDNESDAY Zoology, Anatomy, Physiology, or Sur- 
 gery- 
 
 THURSDAY Vegetable Physiology, Botany, Materia 
 
 Medica, or Agriculture. 
 
 FRIDAY Pathology and Practice of Medicine, or Mid- 
 wifery. 
 
 SATURDAY Languages, Logic, Moral Philosophy, Poli- 
 tical Economy, or Algebra. 
 
 About this time, a small volume on the Practice of 
 Surgery appeared, and, in 1832, a work known as "A 
 Critical Inquiry concerning a new Membrane in the 
 Eye," both the product of his pen. He wrote for the 
 various medical journals, and contributed to The London 
 Magazine of Natural History. In 1832, he was elected 
 a Fellow of the Linnsean Society. 
 
 After his settlement at Hull, he became, if possible, 
 yet more abundant in labours. He was devoted to his 
 profession, but yet not unmindful of the great questions 
 of public interest. He soon became a member of the 
 borough corporation of Hull. In this position, he took 
 a leading part in the promotion of what he conceived to 
 be the cause of popular progress. He paid earnest 
 regard to parliamentary and financial reform, to freedom 
 
188 MEMOIR OF 
 
 in trade, and particularly to all questions of special 
 interest to the labouring classes. He had the poor 
 man's interest mainly at heart, and laboured, in various 
 ways, to improve his condition. He delivered lectures 
 for the working masses, on scientific and philosophical 
 subjects, and, on all suitable public occasions, spoke in 
 behalf of their political, social, and industrial rights. 
 His enlarged benevolence did not only exhibit itself in 
 the advocacy of the poor man's- interests, but from his 
 own purse the penniless were relieved, and from his 
 table the hungry were fed. 
 
 Deeply impressed with the terrible ruin to which 
 intemperance gives rise, wherever it prevails, he became 
 the zealous advocate of total abstinence. This he seemed 
 to consider as peculiarly his duty, and he discharged it 
 with immense effect, but with no inconsiderable pecu- 
 niary sacrifice to himself. In 1845, he was made the 
 President of the Hull Christian Temperance Society. 
 
 The moral power which Dr. Gordon, in this and 
 various other ways, acquired over the masses, was widely 
 extended and potent. He was everywhere known as 
 " The Poor Man's Friend." His praise was upon the 
 tongue of the needy, and of him it might be said, 
 " When the ear heard him, then it blessed him ; when 
 the eye saw him, it gave witness unto him. The bless- 
 ing of him that was ready to perish came upon him, and 
 he made the widow's heart to sing for joy. He was a 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 189 
 
 father to the poor, and the cause which he knew not he 
 sought out." 
 
 Symptoms of fatal disease appeared in the spring 
 of 1848. During the ensuing summer he failed rapidly, 
 and in the fall it became certain that he could not reco- 
 ver. His disease was not satisfactorily understood by 
 himself or his medical advisers. Among these were 
 Drs. Ayre and Horner, and Messrs. Twining, Craven, 
 and Becket. In February following he died. 
 
 Soon after the death of Dr. Gordon, a public meeting 
 was held, which was very numerously attended, when it 
 was resolved to erect over his grave a " People's Monu- 
 ment," by public contribution. The amount desired was 
 speedily obtained, and a white marble obelisk, twenty- 
 five feet high, now stands over his grave, bearing the 
 following inscription : 
 
 ERECTED BY PUBLIC SUBSCRIPTION 
 
 TO 
 
 WILLIAM GORDON, M.D., F.L.S. 
 
 THE PEOPLE'S FRIEND. 
 
 OB. FEB. 7, 1849, ^ET. 47. 
 
 One of the medical gentlemen who attended Dr. 
 Gordon, in an obituary published in several of the pro- 
 vincial papers, uses the following language : 
 
 " Another great and good man has been taken away 
 from the midst of us. The community at large, and of 
 
190 MEMOIR OP 
 
 Hull more especially, can ill afford the loss it has just 
 sustained, in the lamented removal by death of Dr. 
 Gordon. 
 
 " Connected with a profession distinguished for its 
 broad sympathies, high intelligence, and comprehensive 
 charities, his was, nevertheless, no merely official charac- 
 ter; his daily walk no ordinary routine. No profes- 
 sional training, however severe, no educational advan- 
 tages, however great, would have necessarily produced 
 a Dr. William Gordon. Of him it was peculiarly true, 
 that to know him was to love him; and yet (owing, 
 perhaps, to his love of retirement, and of domestic 
 enjoyment), few public men have been at once so much, 
 and yet so little, known, as the deceased. 
 
 " But it is chiefly as a man, and as a physician, and 
 a friend, that his name will be cherished and revered. 
 The narrower circle of those who, during his brief career, 
 shared his professional services, and still more those who 
 enjoyed his friendship and the privilege of his society, 
 can alone fully know what the community has lost by 
 his removal. That nameless charm which exalts and 
 beautifies every other personal attribute, was pre-emi- 
 nently his. Naturally gifted, frank in his demeanour ? 
 approachable, patient, sympathizing, intelligent, he was 
 eminently qualified for the duties of a physician, for 
 which a lengthened and diversified experience, a liberal 
 education, and, alas ! a too sedulous application to study, 
 
WILLIAM GOKDON, M. D. 191 
 
 further fitted him. That high humanity, which almost 
 includes all moral excellence, was conspicuous in his 
 general deportment, and, together with a great open- 
 ness, urbanity, and simplicity of character, rendered him 
 an object of affectionate regard to all who really knew 
 him, especially to the poor, who have lost in him a 
 sincere and sympathizing friend, and whose affectionate 
 remembrance will form his best and most enduring 
 monument." 
 
PART II. 
 
 HIS MORAL AND RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. 
 
 THE character of Dr. Gordon, up to the period of his 
 fatal illness, had presented, even to the eye of close 
 inquiry, some traits resembling the brightest of the 
 Christian, and still quite in keeping with a high order 
 of mere natural goodness. He was honest in opinion, 
 unswerving in a continued course of unquestioned integ- 
 rity, devoted to the maintenance of truth and good 
 morals, and all this, too, with so much amiability of 
 manner, yet steadfastness of purpose, so obliging, yet so 
 firm, that few men, even among professing Christians, 
 seemed to excel him in these respects. He was not 
 rash, to be led into impulsive reformations ; not opinion- 
 ated, to be enamoured of some favourite plan in morals 
 or religion driving him into its intolerant defence ; but 
 his was a steady, even light, which shone in the con- 
 sistent advocacy and support of well ascertained truth. 
 He was captivatingly affectionate, ardent in the practice 
 
 (192) 
 

 WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 193 
 
 of the social virtues, and devoted to the promotion of 
 domestic felicity. 
 
 The good name enjoyed by him, sustained by so many 
 real excellencies of character, it was feared by his family 
 might lure him into a false religious security, that he 
 might rely upon himself, partially, at least, if not wholly, 
 and not alone upon the cross for salvation. He had 
 never made any profession of religion, nor open avowal 
 of his belief in the essential doctrines of an evangelical 
 faith ; not even to his own family. This could not fail 
 to add to their fears. More than this, an impression 
 prevailed to some extent, that he was sceptical in reli- 
 gion. However unfounded this impression may have 
 been in the judgment of his friends, the mere fact of its 
 prevalence at all, served by no means to allay fears 
 already excited with regard to the ground of his religious 
 hope. 
 
 The mode of inquiry into religious truth, to which 
 Dr. Gordon was given, may have induced the suspicion 
 that he was inclined to scepticism. He desired the truth, 
 but the evidence upon which it rested must be little less 
 than that of demonstration. It was no secret with him, 
 that he freely examined every form of infidelity. He 
 read books, conversed with those who professedly enter- 
 tained such views, and, in short, made it a point to elicit 
 information whenever and wherever it seemed to offer 
 , itself. His questions to individuals were of a kind some- 
 17 
 
194 MEMOIR OF 
 
 times to leave the impression that he was inclined to 
 some form of rationalism. The very frankness of his 
 nature prevented that disguise on these occasions which 
 others less honest would feel at liberty to practise. As 
 every man should do, he looked for some sure source of 
 consolation which reached beyond the grave, and, Chris- 
 tianity proposing such relief, he promptly began to 
 assure himself of its truth or falsehood. Objections to it 
 grew into importance as the inquiry progressed : they de- 
 manded answers, but these answers were not at first fully 
 satisfactory ; he sought the opinion of others by inter- 
 rogatories which made no effort to conceal his own per- 
 plexity, that he might compare their views with his own. 
 Infidelity, always industriously at work to spread its 
 poison, ever ready to pervert and distort honest opinion, 
 would hardly fail to direct general attention to one so 
 prominent as Dr. Gordon. " Thus it became," says his 
 biographer, " a somewhat general impression in certain 
 quarters, that Dr. Gordon was not a believer in divine 
 revelation." 
 
 But the immediate friends of Dr. Gordon knew better 
 than this. They could not easily reconcile the uniform 
 reverence paid to the word and worship of God, and the 
 constant preference shown for the society of Christians, 
 with a rejection of Christianity as the result of such 
 labour as they well knew he would be likely to bestow 
 upon an examination of its claims to divine truth. Ot 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 195 
 
 his hearty assent to its divine origin and authority, there 
 could be no doubt ; but did he understand, and had he 
 experienced the saving power of the religion of the 
 cross ; was he relying upon himself or upon the blood of 
 Christ for redemption ? This was the point of intense 
 interest and anxiety with his friends. 
 
 With this impression prevailing in the public mind 
 "in certain quarters," and this fear and anxiety in the 
 bosom of his immediate friends and relatives, let us turn 
 to the winter of 1848-9, behold Dr. Gordon on his death- 
 bed, and follow him to the tomb. 
 
 As the illness of Dr. Gordon increased, it was natural 
 that his family should feel a deeper concern for his spi- 
 ritual welfare ; and, therefore, the anxiety to know his 
 real condition increased daily \ but nothing had as yet 
 transpired to relieve it satisfactorily. "It was felt," 
 says his biographer, " that to interrogate him in reference 
 to it would elicit no information, but very probably might 
 seal his lips for the future ! He said on one occasion, to 
 a beloved and anxious relative 4 1 cannot understand 
 that religion which friends extort from people when they 
 are dying, urging them to say, " I believe ;" and thinking 
 it sufficient if they can be induced to declare they have 
 faith in Christ.' It was evident from such observations, 
 that it would be injudicious to attempt to elicit anything 
 from him on the subject by direct inquiry. On this 
 
196 MEMOIR OF 
 
 account spontaneous remarks were the more eagerly 
 watched for, and the more carefully cherished." 
 
 The desired revelation of his mind came gradually, 
 but in due time : He would say, at times when the symp- 
 toms became more alarming, " Remember, I am very 
 happy ; I've no fear of death." Again " I am very ill, 
 but not afraid to die." His wife repeated the words, 
 " The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the 
 law ; but thanks be to God which giveth us the victory, 
 through our Lord Jesus Christ." He said, with em- 
 phasis, "And he has given me the victory. My views 
 on these subjects have been changed for many years, 
 though I do not talk much about it." 
 * The brazen serpent was spoken of, when he replied, 
 " I've had my eye on that brazen serpent a long time." 
 An attendant seeing him put on a pair of " overalls," 
 observed, " They'll think you're going a journey." Said 
 he, " Yes : I am, and a long journey ; but it's the hap- 
 piest journey I ever took. It's a wonder to myself that 
 I have no wish for this world. It's all very delightful, 
 but I have no wish for it." At another time, "I am so 
 happy ! Indeed these last two days I've had such delight 
 in the prospect of eternity, that I've had to put it aside. 
 It is almost more than I can bear." 
 
 Conversing with a friend he said, in relation to ma- 
 terialism, " I have studied the subject deeply ; indeed I 
 Have read all the celebrated writings of Deists and 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 197 
 
 Atheists. There was a time when I was beguiled by 
 their sophistry. Then, I confess, some serious doubts 
 arose in my mind ; but they did not last long, and I 
 have never been troubled with them since. Thank God, 
 I have no doubts or fears now. I am not afraid to die." 
 
 But although these and other remarks fell from him 
 from time to time, it yet remained for him to make a 
 distinct and satisfactory avowal of the ground of his 
 consolation and hope. Here it is : 
 
 Dr. G-. " I very much wonder you all avoid the sub- 
 ject of my death." 
 
 N. " It is too distressing to us. Besides, we cannot 
 give up all hope of your recovery." 
 
 Dr. Cr. " But I do not wish to avoid the subject. It 
 is always in my thoughts. I had a happy day yester- 
 day. Perhaps you would not think what made it so. It 
 was the prospect of the delightful journey I am going to 
 take." 
 
 N. "If we are trusting only to Christ, there is 
 nothing in death which should make us afraid. It ought 
 not to be terrible to a Christian." 
 
 Dr. a. "Of course not." 
 
 N. " It is but going out of one room into another, to 
 which our friends are soon to follow us." 
 
 Dr. Gr. " Not so. It is far better. It is a very 
 pleasant journey," (with great emphasis.) After a 
 pause he added, " I am astonished it should ever be 
 17* 
 
198 MEMOIR OF 
 
 spoken of as a difficult thing for men to acknowledge 
 their own unworthiness. When I look on my own life 
 and examine it, I see it has been a life of imperfection 
 and selfishness. My best actions were unworthy, and a 
 mixture of selfish motive was in my most benevolent 
 efforts." 
 
 Mrs. G. referred to a small volume containing the 
 experience of Dr. John Mason Good, who confessed that 
 his righteousness was but as filthy rags. 
 
 Dr. 6r. " That is my doctrine. Not because Mason 
 Good said so, but because the Bible tells me so. Perhaps 
 you and others may have fancied I have not thought 
 much on these subjects, because I have not said much, 
 but I have felt deeply, and for years." 
 
 Here was a disclosure which dispelled the doubts of 
 anxious friends, and caused hope and joy to abound. 
 The great subject of religion had been at the heart of 
 the dying man for many years, and he had been the sub- 
 ject of the Holy Spirit's work ; but from motives which 
 appear in a subsequent part of the narrative, was induced 
 to keep all a secret. 
 
 How far Dr. Gordon may have been justifiable in his 
 own case in failing to publicly identify himself with the 
 professed followers of Jesus, it may not be wise to ven- 
 ture an opinion ; but as it respects the question which it 
 involves, whether the duty of the subjects of converting 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 199 
 
 grace to unite with the people of God is imperative, there 
 can be but one answer. The word of God clearly teaches 
 the duty ; and there is much danger in failing to dis- 
 charge it, be the reason never so good according to human 
 judgment. 
 
 l.il I 
 
 * 
 
 
PART III. 
 
 THE TRIUMPH OF GRACE. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE NIGHT OF JANUARY 13. 
 
 DR. GORDON was supposed to be dying on the even- 
 ing of January 13, in consequence of a sudden and 
 very alarming change for the worse. The violence of 
 the attack having passed off, he said, " If consciousness 
 of my own unworthiness, and reliance on Christ alone, 
 be proper ground of peace, I have it, and have long had 
 it. But you must not think that, because I have not 
 talked of these things, therefore I have not thought of 
 them. I have long been feeling my way after the 
 truth." That beautiful hymn being repeated, "Jesus, 
 lover of my soul,'* he exclaimed, with deep feeling, "I 
 reiterate that." 
 
 Dreadful agony now came on. He frequently raised 
 himself in bed, and lifted up his arms in great distress, 
 
 (200) 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M.D. 201 
 
 comparing his sensations to the effect of ten thousand 
 screws tearing him to pieces. He once cried out, " 0, 
 my friends, my children, can you do nothing for me ? 
 0, my Heavenly Father, help me ! 0, my dear Jesus, 
 take me !" Frequent vomiting, and the necessity of 
 continually changing his position, added to his distress. 
 But he retained most fully his self-possession, frequently 
 feeling his pulse, making remarks on its intermittent 
 character, and calling for remedies as the symptoms 
 varied : often expressing his surprise that he continued 
 so long. His intellect retained all its clearness; his 
 love for others all its tenderness. At one time, from 
 sudden feeling at the heart, he considered he was in the 
 act of dying, for he said earnestly to those of his family 
 present, " Come, kiss me, all of you, quick, quick," as 
 though life might be extinct ere he had given them an 
 individual farewell. 
 
 At intervals he would say : " Kememher, this pain is 
 only bodily. I've no fear. Is this because I've no 
 dependence on myself, but am trusting to Jesus alone ? 
 If I come, will he reject me ? And will he put those 
 white robes on me ? This is indeed agony, torture : but 
 what a mercy that my mind is at perfect peace ! Ke- 
 member me to my friends ; I hope they will keep me in 
 mind. I wish to live in your affections. I shall be with 
 you. I shall be there to meet you." 
 
 The hope of reunion with those very dear was a 
 
 
202 MEMOIR OF 
 
 source of great happiness to him. His love for them 
 became more intense as the power of religion was more 
 highly developed. All his tender human sympathies 
 were increased by the strength of his religious emotions. 
 Being assured that his memory would always be sacred 
 with them, he said, " That's delightful. I wish to be 
 missed. I should be unhappy if I thought it would not 
 be so. You comfort me very much." Then looking 
 upon the members of his family, who stood around his 
 bed, his eye passing from one to the other, with beaming 
 affection, he said, " This is what I have often pictured 
 to myself, as I have lain awake at night. I've seen it 
 all, just like this, and seen myself in my coffin, and you 
 at my funeral." 
 
 Speaking of his past life, and of his present hope, he 
 said, " My natural disposition led me to do many things 
 of a benevolent character, but this was not love to God. 
 Mere natural disposition will not do. There needs some- 
 thing better for a holy God. I am quite unworthy, 
 corrupt, corrupt!" 
 
 The distinction he thus made between the impulse of 
 mere natural goodness and principle, is most important, 
 yet it is one generally overlooked. It is the motive 
 which gives the true quality to an action. But alas ! 
 how many there are, who, in the absence of this love to 
 God, trust in the efficacy of pious and benevolent acts. 
 How often is a man's general amiability alleged as a 
 
203 
 
 good evidence that he died the death of the righteous ! 
 The very insensibility to the claims of Grod, which makes 
 men so ready to build their hopes on their own kind 
 actions, is one of the most striking proofs of human de- 
 pravity! But when the Holy Spirit enlightens the 
 mind to understand our obligations, then, with Job, we 
 " abhor ourselves, and repent in dust and ashes." All 
 who knew Dr. Gordon could testify, that if ever the 
 hope of eternal life could be based on the foundation of 
 a blameless and benevolent life, it might have been by 
 him. Yet how poignant was his conviction that in all 
 his actions, even the very best of them, he was corrupt, 
 corrupt ! 
 
 Once, and only once, a transient cloud seemed to 
 pass over him. He said, " I don't see Jesus as I wish. 
 I don't see him vividly." But in less than an hour his 
 countenance brightening with joy, he said, " I seem to 
 see Jesus now. He is vividly before me, waiting for 
 me. He is here in all his love and mercy." 
 
 The following favourite hymn was repeated : 
 
 ' ' There is a happy land, 
 
 Far, far away; 
 Where saints in glory stand, 
 
 Bright, bright as day. 
 Hark, how they sweetly sing, 
 Worthy is our Saviour king, 
 Loud let his praises ring, 
 
 Praise, praise for aye ! 
 
204 MEMOIR OP 
 
 Come to this happy land, 
 
 Come, come away ! 
 Why will ye doubting stand ? 
 
 Why thus delay? 
 On then, to glory on, 
 Be a crown and kingdom won, 
 Then bright above the sun, 
 
 We'll reign for aye ! 
 
 Bright in that happy land 
 
 Beams every eye ; 
 Fed by a Father's hand, 
 
 Love cannot die ! 
 Oh, we shall happy be, 
 When from sin and sorrow free, 
 Lord, we shall reign with thee, 
 
 Blest, blest for aye !" 
 
 " I think I see it before me," said he. " I am going 
 to Jesus. I have embraced him, and he will receive me. 
 Our best actions are filthy rags. There is pride and 
 selfishness mixed up with them all. I have thought, 
 and written, and done a great deal, but it's all nothing. 
 I feel the need of a better righteousness. It is in 
 Christ, and so easily obtained ! I have found it !" 
 
 Again : 
 
 " Just as I am without one plea, 
 But that thy blood was shed for me, 
 And that thou bidd'st me come to thee, 
 Lam> of God, I come ! 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M.D. 205 
 
 " Just as I am and waiting not 
 To rid my soul of one dark blot, 
 To thee, whose blood can cleanse each spot, 
 Lamb of God, I come ! 
 
 "Just as I am thy love unknown 
 Has broken every barrier down ; 
 Now, to be thine, yea, thine alone, 
 Lamb of God, I come 1" 
 
 He exclaimed, " ! beautiful ! That's the way I 
 come." 
 
 To a clergyman who had been preaching on infi- 
 delity, he said : " There is a great deal of infidelity in 
 young men. You have many of them about you. Tell 
 them, from me, I have read a great many sceptical 
 books, ancient and modern, of all sorts. It is all very 
 fine, but very fallacious. They are very plausible, but 
 can give no consolation in a dying hour. We can only 
 obtain peace by casting ourselves on Jesus ; putting 
 reasoning aside, and asking him to cleanse the thoughts 
 of our hearts by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit!" 
 ... To another clergyman he said, "Preach with an 
 earnestness. Tell the people of the peace, and the joy, 
 and the happiness, and the calm. It's no use reasoning. 
 Preachers should dwell on the mercies of God. He is 
 not a severe God, He is love !" i> j 
 
 The sufferings of the patient continued so great that 
 his death at any moment would not have been surprising. 
 18 
 
206 MEMOIR OF 
 
 He bade an affectionate adieu to most of those around 
 him. To one of his nephews he said, " Seek Christ. 
 Don't be carried away by the world. It's all vanity. 
 It will not comfort you at death. This can only be 
 found by trusting in Christ. You may forget this. I 
 have heard these things often and forgotten them, but 
 it's all true." To another nephew he said, " Good bye, 
 my dear boy. You learn Latin. Let me tell you what 
 Adrian said to his soul in prospect of death : 
 
 "Animula, vagula, blandula, 
 Hospes comesque corporis, 
 Quae nunc abibis in loca 
 Pallidula, rigida, nudula, 
 Nee, ut soles, dabis jocos ?" 
 
 I will translate it for you: 'Kind little wandering 
 soul, companion and guest of my body, into what places 
 art thou now about to depart ?' And then Adrian goes 
 on to say, how dreary and forlorn it will be. 0, my 
 dear boy, remember what a much better hope the gospel 
 gives your uncle !" 
 
 It was very remarkable to hear a man suffering se- 
 vere agony, and in expectation of immediate death, so 
 correctly quoting, and so beautifully translating, a Latin 
 author, for the purpose of impressing an important 
 truth upon the mind of a little boy. In all he said, he 
 studied to adapt himself to the peculiar cases of those 
 whom he addressed. 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 20T 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FROM SUNDAY, JANUARY 14, TO SUNDAY, JANUARY 21. 
 
 IT1HE beloved sufferer was spared to his family for 
 -I- more than three weeks after the trying scenes of 
 the night of the 13th of January, during the whole of 
 which time his mental faculties retained their full vigour. 
 The violence of his pain ahated, and he was enabled to 
 enjoy constant intercourse with his friends. He loved 
 to have his family always around his bed, and to spend 
 his waking hours in reciprocation of affection, and con- 
 versation or reading on the great themes of the love of 
 Christ and the glories of heaven. 
 
 Many, besides his immediate connexions, shared in 
 the privilege of conversing with him on his dying bed. 
 He saw all who desired an interview, delighting in the 
 opportunity thus given him of commending that Saviour, 
 who had, in so remarkable a degree, given him "the 
 peace which passeth all understanding." He received 
 nearly three hundred visits, during this period, from 
 persons of all ranks ; but whether rich or poor, he wel- 
 comed them with equal courtesy, saying something appro- 
 priate to each, and pointing all to " the Lamb of God, 
 
208 MEMOIR OF 
 
 which taketh away the sin of the world." The Eev. 
 Dr. Dobbin, at his funeral, said of that sick room, that 
 it was " not at all the chamber of death, but the robing- 
 room of heaven /" 
 
 The relatives were anxious to preserve everything he 
 said, as a solace for the season of bereavement, and 
 with this view, and one more extended, if at any time 
 desirable, his son-in-law, who is also his biographer, took 
 short-hand notes of almost everything that Dr. G. said 
 during the time he was confined to his bed. This was 
 difficult to accomplish, as it was necessary to avoid the 
 observation of his keen eye, which scarcely anything 
 eluded, for had he known that a record was kept of what 
 he said, the freedom of his communications would have 
 received a great check. But, by the position in which 
 the writer sat, he was able to secure a faithful record 
 of what passed, without any suspicion on the part of his 
 beloved father-in-law. This statement is necessary, in 
 order to account for the length and number of the con- 
 versations recorded, and to correct the inference likely 
 to be drawn from the precision and beauty with which 
 many of Dr. G.'s sentiments are expressed, that the 
 phraseology was the result of subsequent careful revi- 
 sion, and not the unpremeditated utterance of a dying 
 man. The biographer assures the reader, that the words, 
 as well as the ideas, are Dr. G.'s own, whose extempora- 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 209 
 
 neous expressions were usually marked by the accuracy 
 of studied compositions. 
 
 January 14. During the whole of this day, he 
 seemed gradually sinking from extreme exhaustion ; so 
 that, as far as the feelings of his family, as well as his 
 own, were concerned, it was still a dying scene. This 
 was the case until his death actually occurred, and hence 
 everything he said, possessed the interest of a last 
 utterance. But though on the verge of the other world, 
 and longing to be with Jesus, his tender heart clung to 
 the objects of earthly affection. The sensibilities of the 
 man shone forth the more brightly in the hope and joy 
 of the Christian. He delighted to be reassured of the 
 affection of his surviving friends, and to talk over the 
 happy scenes of former years ; but said, " I am going to 
 a better country.'* It was remarked, " This is a bright, 
 sunny day." He replied, "Yes; but I shall have a 
 brighter one next Sunday." Suddenly stretching out 
 his emaciated hands, and somewhat raising his head, his 
 countenance beaming with rapture, and his eyes gazing, 
 as on some vision of beauty and splendour, he said, " I 
 see that bright region spread before me, where there ia 
 no night, and where no heat scorches ; and I see Jesus 
 too ; He is waiting to receive me !" Then, after a 
 pause, " It would not do for a worldly mind to enter. 
 It could not enjoy heaven. There must be a change. 
 
210 MEMOIR OF 
 
 The way to be prepared is by self-abasement, and reli- 
 ance on Christ." 
 
 Mrs. 6r. "Then it is reliance on Him, that has 
 given you so much peace in all your illness ?" 
 
 Dr. Gi. "Oh, yes ! it is being found in Him. 
 Though I have not made a profession, it was not 
 because I was ashamed^ of Christ. But what chiefly 
 deterred me was being so often shocked at the conduct 
 of professors." 
 
 Mrs. Gr. " I hope you may live another night, that 
 I may nurse you ; but you experience that it is 
 
 " Sweet to lie passive in His hands, 
 And know no will but His.' " 
 
 Dr. Gr. "Yes! and cast everything on Him cast 
 everything on Him ! 
 
 Monday, January 15. Soon after waking, he asked 
 that some Shrewsbury cakes might be sent for. At 
 different times he said, "As I get weaker, my faith and 
 prospects are stronger and brighter. The way to have 
 strong faith is, to think nothing of yourself. You have 
 come to see me ; I have many friends, but there is none 
 comparable to Jesus. I thought I should have lived 
 many years, but how little we know ! And if I were to 
 live twenty years more, perhaps my friends might be 
 gone, and I have no consolation like this, in having them 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 211 
 
 all around me. I have no desire to get better, except 
 to be of use in propagating the gospel ; I WOULD Mix IT 
 WITH MY PRACTICE. If I lived, it would be my whole 
 delight to publish Christ." It 
 
 The willingness of Christ to save at the eleventh 
 hour being mentioned, he rejoined "Ah ! but it has not 
 been the eleventh hour with me." The woman being 
 referred to who touched the hem of Christ's garment, he 
 said, with great emphasis " But I have embraced him, 
 and wish to be like him." 
 
 To Sir W. L. "I have just been thinking I shall be 
 looking down from those happy realms on you toiling 
 with the storms and winters of life. I only regret I have 
 not seen earlier that glorious Q-ospel as I now see it, so 
 as to have preached it to the multitudes of men I have 
 addressed. If restored, nothing should I rejoice in more 
 than this. I should never be ashamed of Jesus; I 
 would preach him to all. An infidel once said tome, 
 after hearing N. preach, that, if he believed such things, 
 he could never cease praying for, and pleading with the 
 people. That is just as I feel I should do if I were 
 spared. My physical strength might not be sufficient, 
 but as to the interest and delight of it, I should never 
 tire. At Harrowgate I met a son of Mr. W.'s, and was 
 disposed to smile at him, for relinquishing a lucrative 
 business in order to preach the Gospel. But I could 
 
212 MEMOIK OP 
 
 delight to do the same thing now. I could relinquish 
 everything for this." 
 
 Tuesday, 16. On awaking, he said, " Read to me 
 something about heaven." Having listened to Bunyan's 
 incomparable description of the passage of the pilgrims 
 through the river, and their entrance into the celestial 
 city, he said, " It is not half so beautiful as I have pic- 
 tured it to myself." Various selections from the Bible 
 and hymns, descriptive of the heavenly state, called forth 
 frequent expressions of the delight he felt in the pros- 
 pect of soon realizing it. 
 
 To a pious workingman who called to bid him fare- 
 well, he said, " You see me better than you ever saw me 
 before, Mr. W. I have sought the Saviour you serve. 
 I have asked him to forgive my sins, and he has done so. 
 He will present me to the Almighty. I am going a very 
 delightful journey, to a very happy home, where I shall 
 meet only with the wise and good. And to be with 
 Jesus ! I would not change my present condition for all 
 the wealth in the world 1 This has been a gradual thing 
 with me, though I have not had such great joy till now. 
 It is brighter to-day than ever. 1 have not had a cloud 
 all through my illness. How great is the goodness of 
 God ! And all to be had for asking 1 Nothing to do 
 for ourselves but to take what God gives us ! All made 
 ready for us. Only to humble ourselves and receive. 
 It's so clear that when once seen it is impossible to doubt. 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 213 
 
 Press on with vigour. You won't reach perfection here, 
 but seek the Holy Spirit." 
 
 W. " I am delighted to see you thus, doctor." 
 
 Dr. Cr. " I am delighted to see you, Mr. W., and all 
 who entertain such views, and are sincere like yourself. 
 Learning, richesy fame, are all nothing in comparison."' 
 
 W. " I have often prayed for you, doctor, when I've 
 passed you in the street. There is nothing like religion 
 for such times as these." 
 
 Dr. &. "For all times. In health there is no 
 pleasure like this." 
 
 Dr. G. Was much interested in listening to some of 
 Cromwell's letters. The following extract especially 
 delighted him : " Salute your dear wife from me. 
 Bid her beware of a bondage spirit. Fear is the natural 
 issue of such a spirit; the antidote is love. The voice of 
 fear is : if I had done this ; if I had done that, how 
 well it had been with me ! I know this hath been her 
 vain reasoning. Love argueth in this wise: What a 
 Christ have I! What a Father in and through him ! 
 What a name hath my Father: Merciful, gracious, 
 long-suffering, abundant in goodness and truth, forgiv- 
 ing iniquity, transgression, and sin ! What a nature 
 hath my Father ! He is LOVE ! free in it, unchangeable, 
 infinite ! What a covenant between him and Christ, 
 for all the seed, for every one, wherein he undertakes 
 all, and the poor soul nothing! The new covenant 
 V 
 
214 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 is grace, to, or upon the soul, to which it (the soul) is 
 passive and receptive : Til do away their sins ; III 
 write my law, and Til put it in their hearts ; they shall 
 never depart from me, go. This commends the love of 
 God ; it's Christ dying for men without strength, for men 
 whilst sinners, whilst enemies. And shall we seek for 
 the root of our comforts within us ? What God hath 
 done, what He is to us in Christ, this is the root of our 
 comfort : in this is stability ; in us is weakness. Acts 
 of obedience are not perfect, and therefore yield not 
 perfect peace. Faith as an act yields it not, but only 
 as it carries us unto him, who is our perfect rest and 
 peace, in whom we are accounted of, and received by the 
 Father, even as Christ himself! This is our high call- 
 ing. Rest we here, and here only."* 
 
 Dr. 6r. " Does Cromwell say that ? Bead it again. 
 It's what I've been wanting these two hours. I've been 
 thinking, 0, if I had not gone to Harrowgate, or if I 
 had not gone to Scarborough, I might have been better. 
 How that suits me where he writes, ' Fear says if I had 
 done this, and avoided that: but love says, What a 
 Christ have I ! What a Father have I !'" 
 
 To Mr. K. " I have seen my own vileness, and sought 
 the Saviour. / cannot tell the place nor the time. But 
 I know it proceeds from the goodness of God. Mine is 
 
 * Carlyle's Letters of Oliver Cromwell, The Protector, by D'Aubigne. 
 

 WILLIAM GORDON, M.D. 215 
 
 a testimony which few can give. The course of my 
 reading has been so curious and strange ; I have met 
 with so many quibbles and objections, and my mind has 
 often been in a maze and confusion." 
 
 Mr. K. " Those things are not profitable." 
 
 Dr. G-. " No ! I don't regret that ; it has given me 
 a strength I could not otherwise expect. I feel now on 
 so firm a rock, that Satan cannot possibly shake me. 
 But I am not trusting to myself. I have been always a 
 seeker after truth, though often bewildered in the inves- 
 tigation." 
 
 Mrs. G. remarked, what a mercy it was that he had 
 no clouds to darken, no temptations to harass him/ 
 
 Dr. Gr. " The moment they are suggested I dash them 
 away, and keep my eye fixed on my Saviour ; I find 
 him always near." 
 
 Mrs. G-. " Then you feel that 
 
 ' Jesus can make a dying bed 
 Feel soft as downy pillows are.' " 
 
 Dr. G-. " Indeed I can ! And what a mercy to be 
 able to enjoy conversation, with my memory and in- 
 tellect as clear as ever. And now that my pain has 
 subsided, I can enjoy my friends. I often expressed a 
 wish to die when my sufferings were so intense, for I 
 had no fear. But I see how much better it was that I 
 did not die then. He knows best." 
 
216 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Mrs. Cr. "You seem to feel the Saviour so very 
 near !" 
 
 Dr. Cr. " Indeed I do ! If I had not him as my 
 friend, what a dreary departing it would be ; but now I 
 I am going to a dear, dear friend !" 
 
 Mrs. Cr* "You have exerted yourself to-day very 
 much, in speaking to every one ; but you are so anxious 
 to preach Christ.' 1 
 
 Dr. Cr. " Indeed I am ! And I think and feel this 
 may be my last opportunity. 
 
 Mr. K. "It is delightful to see you thus.'* 
 
 Dr. Cr. " But how delightful to feel thus ! The only 
 reason why I wish to live is to preach the gospel. I 
 should not be ashamed of Christ in public or private." 
 (To his daughter) " I may live one or two days more ; 
 but I leave it with God, and wait His will. I have been 
 picturing the flowers nodding over my grave, and when 
 it is windy and rainy, you will perhaps think how dreary 
 it is for me, but remember I shall not feel that." 
 
 Wednesday, January 17. To the surprise of all, 
 Dr. Gordon still survived. He expressed a wish to bid 
 
 farewell to Mr. , an elderly man, whom he had 
 
 known for many years, and for whose spiritual welfare 
 Dr. G. felt much solicitude. 
 
 Mr. . "I am very sorry, doctor, to see you 
 
 tJo ill." 
 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 217 
 
 Dr. G-. "I am very well, and very Happy. But I 
 rest on Christ. When we pride ourselves on our own 
 conduct " 
 
 Mr. . " doctor ! you have always lived a 
 
 good life. Everybody respects you." 
 
 Dr. #. "But I must not think of myself; all the 
 merits I have must be thrown aside. You don't under- 
 stand that. I once did not." 
 
 Mr. . " I know that in these moments religion 
 
 is everything, though I cannot see just as you. I know 
 I must die ; and am sensible I shall live again. That 
 future state is a serious consideration. But some think 
 there will be annihilation." 
 
 Dr. Gr. "So dreadful do I think annihilation that I 
 would rather live in pain than not live at all. There is 
 nothing more dreadful. But I have a better hope. 
 It is beyond human reason it comes without human 
 reason." 
 
 Mr. . " I am sensible that it must be happy to 
 
 think so. I have been on what I thought my deathbed, 
 as you are, and though I don't pride myself, I thought 
 there was nothing I ever did that I wished I had not 
 done. I never hurt man nor woman, and if that were 
 the last of me, I could die comfortable. But, then, 
 there was the thought of rising again. Ah ! I may die 
 easy enough, but there's some chance of being called 
 19 
 
218 MEMOIR OF 
 
 over to account, and then I was bothered ; for I thought 
 with Shakspeare, that if dying was a sleep, I might 
 have awful dreams. But I can't do as some people, 
 drop down on my knees and say, 4 God be merciful.' ' 
 
 Dr. 6r. " You said you thought you had never in- 
 jured any one. Why, my dear fellow, there was not a 
 day, when I analyzed my life, that I had not done, 
 spoken, or thought evil." 
 
 Mr. . " I reconciled myself by thinking, that 
 
 if I had done evil, I did not know it, and therefore 
 there was no guilt." 
 
 Dr. Gr. " There is a right line and a wrong, which 
 does not depend on you. You do not make the straight 
 line." 
 
 Mr. . " It's awkward when there are two roads, 
 
 and you don't know which to take." 
 
 Dr. Cr. " There is only one way. A man shows me 
 a straight line ; I say it is not straight. My knowledge 
 of geometry proves there is only one straight line. So 
 there is only one circle, right or wrong. So I act, 
 kindly or unkindly. If I think an evil thought of a 
 man, I act unkindly. Human beings cannot act per- 
 fectly; but perfection ought to be my standard; and 
 when God requires it, and I don't come up to it, what 
 am I to do ? who is to make up my deficiencies ? For 
 if one man says he only spoke one unkind word, another 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 219 
 
 may say he only spoke two, so that you may have a 
 world of quarrelling." 
 
 Mr. . " "Well, it is a consolation to see a man, 
 
 as I never have hefore, say he dies in hopes of living 
 again. I always felt miserable at such scenes." 
 
 Dr. G-. "Why?" 
 
 Mr. . " I thought they were dying without hope. 
 
 One was a good man, as a member of society ; he said 
 ' To-morrow all will be over with me, all over, my boy, 
 all over, dead and gone, that's all that can be said of 
 me.' Yet he was a man of very strong mind." 
 
 Dr. Q-. " Did you ever see a locomotive engine ?" 
 
 Mr. . "Yes." 
 
 Dr. G-. " Do you think it moves ?" 
 
 Mr. . "Yes." 
 
 Dr. 6r. "I can prove that it does not, and I defy 
 you to disprove my argument." 
 
 Mr. . " Well, but something moves." 
 
 Dr. 6r. " It is a delusion. It is not a reality. May 
 you not be deceived ? A body only occupies a space 
 equal to itself. 
 
 Mr. . "Well?" 
 
 Dr. 6r. " Get that into your head." 
 
 Mr. . "I see your meaning." 
 
 Dr. Gr. "A body cannot move where it is not. It 
 is stationary where it is, and cannot move where- it is 
 aot, therefore it cannot move at all." 
 
220 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Mr. . " Ah ! this is good argument, and sound 
 
 too." 
 
 Dr. Cr. " This argument was employed three thou- 
 sand years ago, and is unrefuted yet. Nevertheless this 
 man says there is nothing after death! Is this man 
 learned ?" 
 
 Mr. . " In some things." 
 
 Dr. Cr. " Did you ever see a straight line ?" 
 
 Mr. . "Yes." 
 
 Dr. Cr. "If you will go to Cambridge, you will find 
 men who will hail you as the greatest discoverer of the 
 age. Have you ever seen a circle ?" 
 
 Mr. . " Yes, I've seen what was called a circle, 
 
 and I thought it was." 
 
 Dr. Cr. "Don't you see how ignorant men are? 
 Were you to calculate the radii of a circle according to 
 those you draw, what imperfect radii would they be ? 
 Some would be shorter than others." 
 
 Mr. . " But how can you prove there is no 
 
 straight line?" 
 
 Dr. Cr. "Easily. Draw one, and take a micro- 
 scope." 
 
 Mr. . "Yes ; there will be ins and outs." 
 
 Dr. Cr. " Such men should think more." 
 
 Mr. . " With all our thinking, we are very ig- 
 norant. You are a very clever man, doctor, quite a 
 philosopher; but the best of us know very little." 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 221 
 
 Dr. Gr. "Nothing! and it is that utter ignorance 
 which gives me that blessedness now. All my reason- 
 ing brings me to this 'I must rest on Christ.' ' 
 
 Mr. . " Well, I think him the best person on 
 
 whom we can rest; I always did. It's a pleasure to 
 hear you talk, for it's a very uncommon thing to be very 
 strong in opinion while very weak in body. To your 
 family it must be very delightful to see you like this. 
 I would give worlds to be the remainder of my life in 
 the same state of mind." 
 
 Thursday, 18th. On waking, he said, " I've had a 
 very happy night; brighter visions than ever of the 
 happy land." His nurse said, " I am full of fear of not 
 continuing faithful." He replied, " There is nothing to 
 fear, if you keep close to Jesus. I'll tell you what I did, 
 I went fervently to him, and took all my sins and cares, 
 my heart full, and left all at the cross, and sweet peace 
 followed. It's such love ! But remember, constant 
 watching is necessary. Thus go to Christ, and you 
 have nothing else to do. It is all done for you. what 
 a night I've had ! Such happiness ! I cannot describe 
 it. When I fall asleep, and when I awake, it's always 
 there. How wonderful !" 
 
 Friday, 19th. Baxter's "Last work of a Believer" 
 was one of his favourite books. The following sentence 
 struck his mind : "Did Christ himself on the cross com- 
 mend his spirit into his Father's hands, and will he not 
 19* 
 
222 MEMOIR OF 
 
 receive thy spirit, when thou at death commendest it to 
 him?" 
 
 In conversation, he said, " I see where Christians are 
 wrong. We do not make a companion of God. Wfc should 
 treat him more as a friend, but not as a distant friend, 
 but as always near, close to us, so that we are never 
 alone, but continually in his company. It is this having 
 God with me as my companion, which has made me so 
 happy. I dislike to sleep, because I lose the enjoy- 
 ment. Oh, to think that I could ever have had a care 
 when there was a God in the world ! How wonderful ! 
 How wrong I have been ! ' Behold the lilies of the 
 field, how they grow, they toil not, neither do they spin ; 
 and yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his 
 glory, was not arranged like one of these. Wherefore, 
 if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, 
 and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much 
 more clothe you, ye of little faith!' Ah! I did not 
 understand that before ; but I do now. How false are 
 the judgments of the world ! Many would pity me. 
 They don't know how happy I am." 
 
 Saturday, 20th. The evening of this day was felt 
 by all to be a peculiarly interesting season, as it recalled 
 the alarming seizure of the preceding week, and the 
 unexpected mercies his friends had enjoyed in such 
 delightful intercourse with their beloved relative, during 
 the seven days he had been spared to them. In refer- 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 223 
 
 ence to this, he said, " I thought I should have been 
 taken from you. We have had many mercies. What 
 a glorious week it has been ! the happiest I ever spent. 
 The world cannot comprehend it. I now understand 
 the meaning of that passage, ' Eye hath not seen, nor 
 ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, 
 the things which God hath prepared for them that love 
 him, but Gf-od hath revealed them unto us by his spirit." 
 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FROM SUNDAY, JANUARY 21, TO SUNDAY, JANUARY 28. 
 
 NOTWITHSTANDING the occasional rallyings 
 which took place, it was evident that disease was 
 steadily advancing ; but while his little remaining 
 strength became gradually less, and the outer man was 
 perishing, it was delightful to witness how the " inner 
 man was renewed day by day." 
 
 He wondered why Christians were not always rejoic- 
 ing. He said, " To believe that God loves us, and 
 wishes us to love Him, and does everything to make us 
 love Him, to regard Him as a Friend, a Brother, a 
 Father, this makes us happy. As to doubts and fears, I 
 could not have any. I might have many, if I looked to 
 
224 MEMOIR OF 
 
 myself ; but this is impossible, if I look to my Saviour. 
 I have often been surprised that Christians seemed to be 
 made so little happy by their religion. The reason is, 
 they have looked for happiness to what is in themselves, 
 instead of to what is in Christ. And looking to Him is 
 the best source of holy living." 
 
 Being told that he looked low and dull, he said, " I 
 don't/ee? so. I am weak, but perfectly happy." About 
 midnight, waking, very faint, after a short sleep, his 
 wife, children, and niece being at his bedside, he said, 
 " I think I am sinking. I feel the powers of nature 
 giving way." Then looking most affectionately at each, 
 he added " I think I've said all I wish to say." Then, 
 after a pause " I'm so glad they have made the ceme- 
 tery a garden for my body to rest in, with all the 
 beautiful flowers about." The conversation then turned 
 on the meaning of the word cemetery (xot^^ptov, sleep- 
 ing place), and the application of this term in the New 
 Testament to the Christian's death : " Our friend Laza- 
 rus sleepethj but I go to awake him out of sleep." " Them 
 also who sleep in Jesus, will God bring with him." In 
 reference to his approaching dissolution it was observed 
 " This is what we must all come to." He responded 
 emphatically, "Must all come to! Christians should 
 look forward to it with joy." It was remarked that 
 some persons dreaded death very much, because they 
 must go forth alone into the eternal world, with none of 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 225 
 
 their friends to accompany and cheer them. Dr. G. 
 " Ah ! but I shall not be alone ; Christ is my companion, 
 my friend, my brother ! He accompanies me on my 
 journey ! How wonderful to receive me there, one who 
 has so rebelled against him !" 
 
 Monday, January 22. " I have had such a peaceful 
 night. I marvel at myself, that when in health I should 
 have been so anxious about worldly things, and thought 
 so little of what was to be had so superior. 0, blind, 
 blind, blind ! Make Grod your friend, and don't look 
 on him as a Gf-od afar off but as loving you and deter- 
 mining that you shall be saved. I think he has almost 
 gone out of Ms way to save me ! He has given me blow 
 after blow, and his means have been so especially adapted 
 to my case !" 
 
 To R. and V. "The last week has been happier 
 than I could have conceived. We must leave reasoning. 
 I have read all books on the subject, ancient and modern. 
 You may tell the men who pride themselves on their 
 learning, that it's all nothing. We must come simply to 
 Christ. Christians look too much to themselves. Look 
 to him, and there's no fear. We must not think of God 
 as a great Being to be gone to sometimes, but make him 
 a companion. He wishes it. He has done everything 
 to bring sinners to him. But it is beyond reason. 
 There's a better evidence than argument. It is HERE, 
 No one could shake my belief." 
 
226 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Of eternity, lie said, "All things are incomprehen- 
 sible, yet we presume about religion. We know not 
 what an infinitesimal atom of matter is. We can con- 
 ceive of its infinite division, and yet every particle of 
 matter must have an upper and an under side. Neither 
 do we understand matter in its larger bulks the im- 
 mense globes and so numerous ! We know not the 
 end of space nor the end of time. We know NOTHING. 
 We see with a very contracted view, and yet we reason ! 
 We must come to the BIBLE as little children ; then we 
 shall know ! We must trust as little children ; then we 
 shall not live in dread. How strange that Christians 
 should be " afraid of diseases, accidents by railway, and 
 such things, when God is always with them !" 
 
 Tuesday, January 23. Though greatly enfeebled, 
 and scarcely able to whisper, he exerted himself to 
 speak to the numerous visiters who came to see him. 
 
 R. "We often talk of you." 
 
 Dr. a. " Talk of the goodness of God to me." 
 
 R. " How are we to obtain such strong faith?" 
 
 Dr. Cr. "It is here we must become as children. 
 I did not understand this once. Only God could make 
 me understand it. My affliction has been sent for this. 
 But, how I murmured ! I've been a stubborn child ! I 
 wonder that Christians are not always happy." 
 
 JV. " Our faith is so weak, and, as you say, we do 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 227 
 
 not make a companion of God. But in heaven He will 
 be always near us." 
 
 Dr. Cr. " He is always near us now. Believe this, 
 and it will make you happy." 
 
 E. " I wish I had such faith !" 
 
 Dr. 6r. " The way is, think nothing about yourself. 
 Give yourself to him entirely; it is what he wishes. 
 Then you will have perfect peace. But we must yield 
 ourselves as children, and not reason. I have sent mes- 
 sages to my friends, not to trust in themselves any 
 longer. I have read, and thought, and trusted to human 
 wisdom, but oh, it is very foolish. I am thankful I did 
 not first know this in the extremity of my weakness. 
 It has been weeks weeks ! At first, I rebelled at the 
 affliction. 0, the blindness ! I did not see what it 
 was for." 
 
 Wednesday, January 24. To W. L. "I wonder 
 whether, in case I were to live, these happy views would 
 continue? I don't understand why they should not. 
 God is my friend. And to think Christians should be 
 afraid of accidents with such a friend ! I used to be 
 astonished at the great affection some people felt for 
 ministers and others who had been of use in their con- 
 version. I'm not surprised now. I feel so much more 
 love to all my friends. You've been helpers to me in 
 many ways." 
 
228 MEMOIR OF 
 
 He was asked whether they had done right in not 
 more personally urging the subject of religion upon him. 
 
 Dr. 6r. "You have done right. Mine was a pecu- 
 liar disposition. Direct reference would have done 
 harm. You have known my disposition, and acted 
 suitably to it." 
 
 Thursday, 25th. After a disturbed night he was 
 much exhausted ; this he regretted, as " interrupting his 
 happy thoughts." He said, " I'm farther from earth 
 and nearer to heaven. What joy I have had ! No one 
 can describe it ! I have often told you when in great 
 pain, that I could not have conceived that any human 
 being could suffer so much. I am sure I may now say, 
 I could not conceive any human being could enjoy 
 so much ! And to compare these pleasures with the 
 pleasures of the world ! how foolish ! I have seen all 
 grades of life, but I never found full satisfaction, because 
 I had not got the pearl. 1 honoured Christianity, think- 
 ing it a great and noble thing, but I did not feel it. 
 What a difference ! But this is not to be had by reason- 
 ing. How true that saying is, ' Except ye become as 
 little children, ye cannot enter the kingdom of heaven.' 
 But directly we come as little children, we obtain every- 
 thing we need. What a proof of its truth, that it can 
 produce such a change and give me such feelings I How 
 its Author must have known the heart ! Is this not the 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D 229 
 
 lest proof that it is from O-od ? How could man have 
 invented a system which could do such things ?" 
 
 To his Nephew. " My boy, I love you dearly : seek 
 Christ early. There's no happiness in anything else. 
 Don't care about argumentative books on religion. Your 
 poor uncle Gordon has been taken up with controversy 
 all his life, and it won't do, there's nothing in it. Take 
 the Scriptures as they are, and any simple religious 
 book you like ; the simpler the better." 
 
 A poor woman stopped at the door to ask after him ; 
 she was very poor, almost a beggar. 
 
 ' Dr. 6r. " I am very much obliged to her. I like to 
 be remembered by the poor much better than by the 
 rich. I love my rich friends, and am very grateful for 
 their kind attentions, but the poor are my flock. I never 
 courted the rich. Love the poor. BE GREAT AND SEEK 
 
 LITTLE THINGS: DON'T BE LITTLE AND SEEK GREAT 
 THINGS." 
 
 Referring to the remark, that he had been too much 
 taken up with controversy, he was asked whether his 
 present feelings in religion had altered his views respect- 
 ing the political engagements of his former life, and 
 whether by the term controversy he alluded to those 
 occupations. He answered, " Certainly not ; only to 
 controversy on the truth of religion, instead of receiving 
 it as a child. Were I to recover I should do as I have 
 done in those respects, only more enthusiastically than 
 20 
 
230 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ever, as in the cause of truth and human happiness. I 
 hope nothing I have said can give any other impression." 
 This is very important, as increasing the strength of his 
 religious testimony, which would have been less valuable, 
 had all his conclusions on other topics been shaken. It 
 might have been said that bodily debility had affected 
 his mind, that he thought morbidly on every point, and, 
 therefore, that little could be deduced from the confes- 
 sions he made of a religious nature. But the perfect 
 composure he maintained thoughout his illness, the calm- 
 ness with which he always spoke, the deep conviction he 
 retained of the truth of those principles he had so long 
 studied and advocated, this made the more emphatic 
 the striking testimony he bore to the great truths of the 
 gospel, and to the necessity of receiving it as a little 
 child. Even to within a few hours of his death, incidents 
 were occurring which brought out the characteristic fea- 
 tures of his mind, and showed them to be illumined by 
 exalted devotion, but not changed. 
 
 Friday, 26th. On awaking in considerable pain, he 
 said, " Pray for me that God may soon release me. It 
 is no doubt the best that I should remain a little, but I 
 hope it won't be long." Then observing that it was a 
 bright sunny morning, he said, " How glad I shall be to 
 lie in that beautiful cemetery ! How lovely it must be 
 there this morning !" 
 
 Hearing some passages from Dr. Hope's life read, he 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 231 
 
 said " This is as if written for me ! As Dr. Hope says, 
 ' there is peace in Christ if we go to him at once, and 
 tumble down our sins before him.' Here I am, a poor, 
 unworthy, wicked creature, not deserving of being looked 
 at by the Saviour, but I can go as I am." 
 
 To Mrs. G. "What a happy life we have spent 
 together ! You will think of the many pleasant talks we 
 have had over the fire alone. And how we've enjoyed 
 our little excursions together ! But we are going the 
 same way, and shall meet again. It's only a separation 
 for a short time. When .you visit my tomb, don't do it 
 with grief. Perhaps my spirit may be permitted to be 
 hovering around you ; and remember how happy I shall 
 be. What a mercy to think that I and those I most love 
 are all- going the right way. I often picture heaven to 
 myself, but I can't describe it. Then I shall have no 
 more toil, no anxiety, no pain, no sin ! Oh, that sin ! 
 What would have become of me now, if I had to appear 
 before God in my own righteousness, which is indeed 
 but filthy rags ! But I shall be clothed in Christ's 
 righteousness ! I have been thinking of heaven, won- 
 dering who will admit us, and introduce us. But it will 
 be a beautiful land ! 0, what a glorious land !" 
 
 Saturday; 27th." I feel I am getting worse more 
 rapidly than you imagine. My eyes are getting dim, 
 and my brain shakes. I should wish none of you to be 
 
232 MEMOIR OF 
 
 out of the way. Let me see any who call, for my end 
 is certain, and I wish to see my friends to the last. And 
 don't be afraid of waking me ; my time cannot be long, 
 and I wish to enjoy your conversation while I can." 
 
 To Mr. S., a temperance missionary. " I took wine 
 for a few days, as it was urged on me. I complied for 
 the satisfaction of my friends-. I wished to perform my 
 duty. But it did me great injury- my testimony is 
 against it it always was but my friends would not 
 have been contented, and I now feel more .satisfaction 
 myself. I am perfectly happy anxious to go to that 
 blessed country." 
 
 It being remarked that he would do very badly now 
 without Christ, he replied, " ! I could not do at all. I 
 strip off my own doings and cast them down there, all in 
 a heap. I see the heap just before me, and I see Jesus 
 there too who has accepted me. Death is rather a 
 herald of good than of evil. In most subjects when I 
 have seen a thing once, I have no more misgivings. But 
 I feel this is such great truth I cannot see why Chris- 
 tians should have doubts ; Christ comes to us, seeks us, 
 runs after us, sends afflictions to bring us to him, and 
 why should we doubt? I have been asking my dear 
 wife whether I properly understand the subject, as I 
 have no doubts, and Christians generally seem to have 
 so many. I could not doubt. It's so plain. Can men 
 be so anxious to be exalted to the presence of royalty, 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 233 
 
 when we may approach the majesty of Heaven ! ! 
 it's abject ! it's wretched ! And we may have this 
 honour even on earth ! To think that I should ever have 
 felt flattered, had I been sent for to the palace, when I 
 might have enjoyed the presence of Deity himself! 
 when I might have had hourly intercourse with him. Was 
 there ever such an imperfect creature ! All the consi- 
 derations of my own mind, air the analysis I can make 
 of it, proves the truth of Christianity. It so provides 
 for all the wants of the soul. If I were to begin to 
 reason, I could get into a maze, but I am told to come 
 as a little child, and then I find perfect peace. Do you 
 think man could have made such a system ? Once re- 
 ceive it into the heart, and you have enough evidence 
 there" 
 
 Having prayed together around his bed, and his 
 favourite twenty-third Psalm having been chanted by his 
 request, with the hymns " Rock of Ages," and " There 
 is a Happy Land," conversation was resumed, when he 
 said, " Instead of my own sinful deeds, I rely on Christ. 
 How this would purify my deeds themselves were I going 
 to live ! a thing I never saw before. I cannot tell what 
 Satan might do, but I feel my faith such, that I could not 
 do a thing contrary to the will of God. It would so shock 
 me, that I think I could not exist under it. I should wish 
 to be like Christ himself. Thus faith and good works 
 become united. You may be sure I have been taught 
 20* 
 
234 MEMOIR OF 
 
 this in a way extraordinary. It seems all so clear to 
 me." 
 
 It was remarked, that Christians do not always see 
 these truths as clearly as he then did. He replied, 
 " Because we begin to argue and cavil ; that's where it 
 is. We are not as little children." It was observed, 
 that if he recovered, he would find Satan, the flesh, 
 and the world to contend against, and would have to 
 fight. He replied, " Yes, but I could fight. 0, I feel 
 what strength that good Saviour has given me." Being 
 asked if he felt the least fear of dying, he replied, " I 
 meet death as a friend. He will take me to that Saviour 
 who has been so good to me. I feel as if I could stand 
 up, to-morrow, in the market-place, and proclaim in a 
 voice of thunder, to all the town, what I feel. How men 
 can keep away from religion, or, when once they have 
 faith in Christ, do what is against His will, or how they 
 can be unhappy, when God is their friend, I don't know ; 
 but to me, at present, it would seem impossible. I 
 wonder how Christians can make a trouble of anything. 
 But oh, the pride of the world, seeking after great 
 things ; if I could see God as my friend, how great 
 should I feel above all the world ! 0, what sweet con- 
 verse this is, to talk of the goodness of God, and to me, 
 so undeserving ! There is never any abatement of it. 
 It's love throughout !" 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 235 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FROM SUNDAY, JANUARY 28, TO SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 4. 
 
 ON awaking, Dr. G. said, "I have been thinking of 
 God, as a shepherd. The shepherd sends his dog, 
 when a sheep has wandered from the fold, to bark at, 
 and frighten, and sometimes to bite the wanderer, in order 
 to bring it back. So, afflictions and pains are the dogs 
 which our Shepherd sends to bring us back to Him. 
 Some of us are stubborn sheep. I was one of these, and 
 the dog had to lite me ; but the barking and biting are 
 to. do us good, not harm, and to bring us to the Shep- 
 herd !" 
 
 Rev. Dr. Dobbin, called to bid him farewell. 
 
 Dr. 6r. " This affliction was all for my good, for my 
 happiness." 
 
 Dr. D. " God sends afflictions that we may remem- 
 ber Him/' 
 
 Dr. r. " Not only that we may remember Him, but 
 that we may have joy. I am a miracle an example of 
 a marvellous interposition of God. A short illness 
 would not have been enough. He saw r I needed all this ; 
 and oh ! the blessing that has attended it !" 
 
 Dr. D. " More seems necessary to be done for edu- 
 
236 MEMOIR OF 
 
 cated men than for others. They have pride of intel- 
 lect and of heart to be subdued. But there's only one 
 way." 
 
 Dr. Gr. " Only one ! I trusted too much to human 
 learning ; but when I saw how to get this by coming as 
 a little child, it burst on me in a way I cannot describe. 
 But man could not have taught me this. It was the 
 HOLY SPIRIT OF GRACE. Then it all rushed upon my 
 view at once. I saw Christ my Saviour .; stripped off 
 my filthy deeds, went to the foot of the cross, and 
 Christ presented me to God." 
 
 Dr. D. " This is the best wisdom." 
 
 Dr. Gr. " It is the only way. I could laugh to scorn 
 the man who rests in his learning." 
 
 Dr. D. " The true wisdom is in coming to Christ. 
 This is joy." 
 
 Dr. Gr. "And power and majesty." 
 
 Dr. D. " The people of God sometimes feel the truth 
 of what some may think too strongly expressed by Dr. 
 Watts, 
 
 The opening heavens around me shine 
 
 With beams of sacred bliss, 
 While Jesus shows His heart is mine, 
 And whispers, I am His. 
 
 You feel this?" 
 
 Dr. Gr. " Yes, in the most exquisite way." 
 Dr. D. " It is God who began this work." 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 237 
 
 Dr. Gf. " I could believe no other.- The result 
 proves it. I should desire no stronger proof of Christi- 
 anity than my own case. It is so adapted to me. Not 
 that it escaped my investigation before. It was my 
 daily study. But I trusted too much to human learning. 
 But, oh ! I am safely landed at last, and in a manner to 
 me most extraordinary. I have attended in many sick 
 rooms, and heard of doubt and fears, but I have no such 
 things." 
 
 On taking leave of Dr. D., he requested him to con- 
 duct the funeral service. 
 
 In conversation with Rev. J. S., Dr. G. said, "As to 
 seeking to be religious, I have always been doing that ; 
 but I did not seek in the right way. It must be heart, 
 not head. Now I feel that l the Lord is my Shepherd.' 
 I may be thought to use strong terms, but during my 
 whole illness my head has been as clear as at any former 
 period, and I have taken no opiates." 
 
 Dr. G. having expressed a desire to preach, if his 
 recovery were possible, it was suggested to him, as that 
 could not be, that the occasion of his funeral would 
 furnish a favourable opportunity to give a public testi- 
 mony ; it was accordingly proposed to commit to paper 
 whatever he might wish for this purpose. He replied. 
 " Oh ! I cannot find words sufficient. I am afraid I 
 cannot convey the thing sufficiently. I should be doing 
 injustice to my Saviour." After a brief pause, he said> 
 
238 MEMOIR OP 
 
 solemnly and emphatically, "All human learning is 
 of no avail. Reason must be put out of the question. 
 I reasoned, and debated, and investigated, but I found 
 no peace until I came to the gospel as a little child ; till 
 I received it as a babe. Then such a light was shed 
 abroad in my heart, that I saw the whole scheme at once, 
 and I found pleasure the most indescribable. I saw 
 there was no good deed in myself. Though I had spent 
 hours in examining my conduct, 1 found nothing I had 
 done would give me real satisfaction. It was always 
 mixed up with something selfish. But when I came to 
 the gospel as a child, the Holy Spirit seemed to fill my 
 heart. I then saw my selfishness in all its vivid deform- 
 ity, and I found there was acceptance with God, and no 
 happiness, except through the Blessed Redeemer. 1 
 stripped off all my own deeds threw them aside went 
 to Him naked He received me as He promised He 
 would, and presented me to the Father. I then felt joy 
 unspeakable, and all fear of death at once vanished." 
 
 The thoughtful reader will place the legitimate inter- 
 pretation on the expression, " Reason must be put out 
 of the question." Similar remarks occur throughout 
 the volume. Dr. Gordon did not, of course, mean that 
 reason and revelation were not in harmony, or that the 
 intellect was not to be exercised on religion. He had 
 throughout life read largely and thought deeply on the 
 subject. His inquiries had only confirmed his con vie- 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 239 
 
 tion, that revelation was in harmony with all truth. He 
 would have been the last to discourage the freest, fullest 
 scrutiny. His meaning, though expressed in the strong 
 and unguarded terms of a man who feels deeply, was 
 this: that all the efforts of reason are unavailing to 
 produce that spiritual change of which the Holy Ghost 
 is the author, and without which the gospel cannot be 
 experimentally known. He was conscious of an influ- 
 ence totally distinct from the result of a merely intel- 
 lectual process. He had "become a new creature." 
 
 In the evening he partook of the Lord's Supper. 
 The circumstance of its being his first participation in 
 this sacred ordinance, and, as we all thought, his last ; 
 together with the intense love to Christ, which so mani- 
 festly filled his breast, and the conviction that, before 
 another Sabbath dawned, he would be in the assembly 
 of the just made perfect, rendered this an occasion of 
 the most thrilling interest to all present. He expressed 
 the great delight he felt in the service, and said, " that, 
 in answer to prayer, God had granted him a most happy 
 day." Heaven being referred to in connexion with 
 the Lord's Supper, he said, " Yes ; it is a feast ; a con- 
 tinual, everlasting feast." We then chanted his 
 favourite Psalm the 23d when he fell asleep. 
 
 Monday, 29th. " 0, what a happiness, to have com- 
 munion with God ! Love to God produces such love to 
 others. Since I felt what I do, I have loved you all 
 
240 MEMOIR OF 
 
 so much more, with a love I could not conceive of. 0, 
 my blessed Saviour ! how can I serve him enough ! 
 Were I to live, the Bible should be my book !" 
 
 Tuesday, 30th. It had been a stormy night. 
 
 Dr. Gr. "As I heard the wind blowing, I thought 
 how peaceful and happy to be laid in the cemetery." 
 
 The Rev. J. G. called. He had thought the charac- 
 ter of Dr. G.'s mind the demonstrative proof which he 
 required for everything, before he could receive it 
 exposed him to peculiar danger; and he had prayed 
 more for him than for any other person. He said to 
 Dr. G., " You now feel how little you can do without 
 Christ." 
 
 Dr. Gr. " We can do nothing poor, wretched, igno- 
 rant ; He can do everything" 
 
 Mr. Gr. " This disarms eternity of its terrors." 
 
 Dr. Gr. " It has no terrors." 
 
 Mr. Gr. " You must not look within yourself, but to 
 Christ." 
 
 Dr. Gr. "But I do look within myself; but then I 
 cast myself on Christ. I turn to the promises at once. 
 I could not have believed there was such joy. I have 
 smiled at things I now understand. I love my friends 
 with such a different love, my whole nature seems 
 changed." 
 
 To several clergymen at his bedside, Dr. G. said, 
 " Preachers do not speak in terms exalted enough of the 
 
Gospel. It is such a book ! Had I strength enough to 
 enter a pulpit, I do not know what I would not say of 
 it. I had long been trying to learn it by reason. 
 Never ! Never ! I see what I saw not before, and feel 
 what I never felt. When a man comes to that book like 
 a little child, he will find wonders in it to make him 
 marvel. The love of God is what I cannot describe. 
 So great is it, I could have no doubts and fears. To 
 think that gracious Being has been seeking me, and 
 afflicting me, till He brought me to this happiness ! I 
 murmured, but I did not see what He designed to 
 bring me to that blessed Saviour ! All the sayings of 
 the Bible so accord with all I have experienced, that I 
 feel it to be the most marvellous book there ever was in 
 the world. Read every word of it, and take it just as 
 it is. I feel my whole mind truly changed." 
 ' Though the mind of Dr. Gordon was so constantly 
 
 w 
 
 occupied with the great joys and hopes of the gospel, he 
 was far from being indifferent to the most trivial circum- 
 stances passing around him. His room was always 
 beautifully adorned with flowers, continually sent to him 
 by his friends from the country, in the arrangement of 
 which he took much interest. While he was apparently 
 dozing, a conversation in an undertone was going on 
 respecting the treatment of flowers, and a question 
 arose, whether it was necessary to change the water in 
 hyacinth glasses. To our surprise, he entered into the 
 21 
 
242 MEMOIR OF 
 
 subject with animation, saying, that the water should be 
 changed, and that salt should be put into the water of 
 cut flowers, because there is salt in the earth ; that it 
 acts as a stimulant, and preserves them longer. This is 
 mentioned as only one instance out of many, to show 
 how far was his state of mind from that enthusiasm, 
 which regards with indifference everything but the one 
 subject which unhealthily excites it. His care to have 
 the room always preserved in the utmost neatness, his 
 attention to the convenience of all around him, and the 
 kind inquiries he put to his visitors, so adapted to their 
 peculiar circumstances, were features in his case, which 
 gave a peculiar interest to what he said on the greatest 
 of all themes. He was no spiritual hermit, notwith- 
 standing his spiritual fervour, but was still the gentle- 
 man, the philosopher, the citizen, the husband, the 
 father, the friend. 
 
 To his family he said, " How can I help loving him ? 
 I seem to see him with his heavenly countenance smiling 
 on me now. He has pardoned me, washed me, clothed 
 me, is preparing mansions for me, I feel I could not 
 rebel against him ! There are not only joys to come, 
 but, joys in this world. Having him so near, as a com- 
 panion, takes from us evil thoughts, ambition, and avarice. 
 There he was, seeking me out first and not I seeking him ! 
 And whence came this ? By grace we are saved ! ! 
 think of Christ, How can any one think of himself ? 
 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 243 
 
 Analyze any one act of his life, how imperfect, compared 
 with that pure and spotless Being ! He has forgiven me, 
 and clothed me with a robe of righteousness. It has 
 come to me in so mysterious a manner. I now see how 
 full of love the whole Bible is !" 
 
 N. " You say this is not to be had by reason. Yet 
 religion is, after all, the highest and best reason, for it is 
 reliance on God, and he must be true." 
 
 Dr. Gr. " And more than that. What do men reason 
 for ? Is it not to obtain happiness ? Then if what is 
 called philosophy and learning does not produce it, but 
 this does, this must be the highest reason." 
 
 Wednesday, January 31. He exerted himself to 
 write on the title pages of several books, which he de- 
 signed as mementoes of his affection. It was observable 
 that in these inscriptions he never omitted his literary 
 titles, an indication that however he condemned human 
 reason, when presuming to supersede Divine teaching, 
 he was no despiser of learning in its proper place. This 
 was only another illustration that he was not unmade as 
 a man, in being wew-made as a Christian. 
 
 To Mr. A. " People have said that death is fright- 
 ful. I look on it with pleasure. I see no monsters 
 around me. Death ! I see no death at my bedside. It 
 is that benign Saviour waiting to take me. I could not 
 have a fear. This is not the testimony of one who has 
 nothing to live for. I am in the prime of life, with com- 
 
244 MEMOIR OF 
 
 forts and friends around me, but the prospect of heaven 
 is more than all. It is a joy man knows nothing of!" 
 A fear being expressed that he had felt the preceding 
 night very long, through wakefulness, he said, " no, 
 not at all. I have been too happy. My thoughts have been 
 in heaven, and in that beautiful cemetery. I fear I am 
 sinfully impatient in so longing after heaven, but it is so 
 glorious ! Christ, not death, is about to take me from 
 earth. There is no death to the Christian. That glori- 
 ous gospel takes away death." 
 
 To Rev. K. " Christ is mine ! He has promised, 
 will he not be faithful ? Then I am safe. Christians 
 have doubts and fears, because they look to themselves. 
 I don't look to myself. I am a mass of corruption, but 
 1 revel in the atonement. I could not doubt. To think 
 that the Saviour descended from the throne of God, to 
 suffer all the sorrows of humanity, and die, to save re- 
 bellious man ! Can I doubt when I go to that Saviour ? 
 0, it would be most sinful ! I shall never see death, that 
 monster so often talked of. It is Christ. Ponder every 
 verse, every word of that holy book, and in a voice of 
 thunder pour it into their ears. Tell them to read 
 it simply, as it is, and believe it, to take the words as 
 they are, and not reason. Reason only perplexes. I 
 reasoned, but it was in vain. It is a proof to me that 
 that look is divine, because reason could never have 
 written it" 
 
245 
 
 A very pleasant spot had been selected in the 
 cemetery for his grave. He Was much interested in a 
 description of it. " I'm so glad you've secured such a 
 beautiful place for me," said he. He desired that there 
 might always be flowers growing over his grave, and 
 that if any palisades should be placed round it, they 
 might be kept neatly painted. 
 
 Thursday, February 1. After a restless night, he 
 was moved to a mattrass on the floor, that the bed might 
 be arranged to his greater comfort. This movement 
 caused him much pain, yet not a murmur escaped him ; 
 and when placed on the bed he gratefully and cheerfully 
 said, " Admirably done ; I have a kind God, and kind 
 friends." 
 
 Though in so exhausted a state, remembering some 
 accounts which were unsettled, he called for them, and 
 his memory was so unimpaired that he discovered a 
 trifling error in one of them, though the transaction had 
 occurred a long time previously. He said he was 
 anxious as much as possible to save trouble to those who 
 would survive him. * How different was his conduct from 
 that selfish indolence, which often passes for a renuncia- 
 tion of the world, when the world is already beyond the 
 grasp ! He regarded attention to these trifles which 
 might increase the comfort of others, as by no means 
 incompatible with his exalted spiritual joy, and the near 
 
 prospect of eternity. Earth, as long as he remained in 
 21* 
 
246 MEMOIR OF 
 
 it, had duties from which the proximity of heaven did 
 not absolve, and the pleasure of discharging them was 
 not in the least diminished by his inability to derive from 
 them any personal advantage. Religion is intended to 
 everturn nothing, but to sanctify everything ; not to unfit 
 us for earth by preparing us for heaven, but by that 
 very preparation to qualify us for the right performance 
 of present duties, and the right enjoyment of present 
 mercies. The piety which in making the saint unmakes 
 the man, is rather to be suspected as enthusiastic and in- 
 complete, than reverenced as the highest development 
 of Christian character, which is always found in con- 
 nexion with truth and soberness, and is ever in harmony 
 with all that God has ordained. 
 
 Friday, February 2. " 0, speak to me about Christ. 
 I want to hear of him. No other subject interests me 
 so much." Being asked how he felt as compared w T ith 
 a week before, he replied, " 0, I have so little interest 
 in my physical condition, that I don't remember. I've 
 had a delightful night ; peace unbroken and indescribable. 
 When once we feel the love of Christ, it gives new views 
 of everything." Suffering pain, he said to his family, 
 " Don't grieve for me. I feel I could not murmur again. 
 Talk about my blessed Redeemer. His marked kindness 
 to me has been so great. This gives me peace to hear 
 him say, Come unto me, all ye that labour and are 
 heavy laden, and I will give you rest. ' ' 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 247 
 
 To Mr. H., who came unexpectedly in the evening, 
 " How kind to come and see so unworthy a creature !" 
 
 H. "You are a monument of mercy." 
 
 Dr. Gr. " I am, indeed ; I am as black as sin can 
 make me." 
 
 H. " We grieve to lose you, but the will of God must 
 be done." 
 
 Dr. Gr. " That is what you must say, what I say, 
 every hour." 
 
 H. " We ought not only to submit to, but acquiesce 
 in his will." 
 
 Dr. G. (Very earnestly) "I love it." 
 
 H. " Don't let me weary you, but I love to talk of 
 the grace of God." 
 
 Dr. Gr. "I should like to hear it talked of from 
 morning to night." 
 
 H. " I am afraid of exciting you." 
 
 Dr. Gr. " It does not excite me. I love it. I have 
 had a joy and a peace which I did not know existed. 
 And how did I get it ? There's the kindness, the bless- 
 ing ! No clouds, no doubts, no fears, peace unbroken. 
 I am a marvellous instance of the gracious interposition 
 of a kind God. If he sought me when I did not seek 
 him, why should I doubt, now I have gone to him !" 
 
 H. " What a blessing that he i has forgiven us all 
 trespasses.' They alone know this peace who have 
 tasted it. You have it." 
 
248 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Dr. 6r. "I have indeed. If such an impossibility 
 could take place as that I should be restored, nothing 
 could give me the least trouble. I do not think fear of 
 any kind could ever enter my breast. Had I no other 
 evidence than my own feelings, of the truth of Chris- 
 tianity, it would be sufficient. If all the world were 
 anti- Christian, I should be a Christian." 
 
 H. " This confidence is from God. Not all the books 
 you have read could have given it." 
 
 Dr. a. "Never!" 
 
 H. "I remember once thinking it folly to talk of 
 being born again. We knew not what it meant." 
 
 Dr. 0-. " But we know now. It is the strong con- 
 viction of the truth of Christianity which gives me peace 
 and blessedness. It has so changed my whole nature. 
 This is the evidence." 
 
 H. "John Newton, when entangled by scepticism, 
 resolved to test the truth of Christianity by seeking the 
 Divine influence promised in answer to prayer, arguing, 
 that if religion were true, the result of such seeking 
 would be an evidence of it." 
 
 Dr. 6r. " That is the argument which weighs with 
 me. No mere reason of man could have written that 
 book. Reason may find fault with it, but could not 
 have made it. it is a book ! read every word of it, 
 and believe it just as it is." 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 249 
 
 jBT. " How blessed it is to feel a thrill of joy within 
 at the name of Jesus !" 
 
 Dr. G-. "To know it in the head, is not to know it." 
 
 H. "I have been called mad because I love Christ 
 and delight to talk of him continually." 
 
 Dr. Gr. " I wish all the world were mad. My 
 blessed Saviour is always with me." 
 
 This conversation was the last of ^iny length in 
 which he partook, and very greatly exhausted him. 
 Death was evidently not far off. 
 
 Saturday, February 2. His faculty of observation 
 continued so keen, that on awaking this morning he 
 noticed that a vase on the mantel-piece at the extremity 
 of the room, was not exactly even with the correspond- 
 ing one, and desired that it might be arranged properly. 
 He shaved himself with a little assistance, and settled a 
 few accounts. He said, at different times " What set 
 of men could have written a book so adapted to our 
 wants as the Bible, unless they had been taught by 
 God ? It must be felt in the heart, and not merely un- 
 derstood in the head. I did think mine a hard lot, but 
 since this came to me, I have deeply repented of that 
 wickedness, and thought it a blessed lot. The Lord 
 knew what he was doing with me. It is only having 
 Christ with me that takes away my fear. What a blessed 
 thing to have him for your Friend and Brother ! I 
 
250 MEMOIR OF 
 
 have much to say, but I cannot speak. Tell them what 
 God has done for me." 
 
 In the afternoon he appeared to be at the point of 
 death. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FROM SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 4, TO HIS DEATH, WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 7. 
 
 DR. GORDON was too feeble to converse much. 
 To E. " My gracious God has been very merciful 
 to me. He has given me a joy I never felt before, an 
 inconceivable joy !" 
 
 E. " I hope we shall all meet in the new Jerusalem, 
 where there will be no more dying." 
 
 Dr. G. " There is none here!" 
 
 E. I hope He will give you to the end, that peace 
 which passeth all understanding." 
 
 Dr. a. "I have it." 
 
 Of the rightousness of Christ he said, "It is that 
 which removes all my fear; every particle of fear; 
 nothing else could." Being reminded that a few days 
 before, he had said that he did not see death at his bed- 
 side, and being asked if he saw him now, he replied, 
 " No ! It is Christ, who has washed us ! I have Christ 
 by me. See death ! I see nothing but Christ." 
 
 The Lord's Supper was again celebrated in his room, 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 251 
 
 at his request. He enjoyed the solemn ceremony. As 
 the night advanced his pulse became so feeble, that it 
 was thought he would not survive till morning. In all 
 the intervals of dozing, he requested that hymns and 
 passages of Scripture might be read, frequently uttering 
 an expression of pleasure, and requesting that a mark 
 should be placed in the margin of whatever specially in- 
 terested him. 
 
 Monday, February 5. On awaking he asked for 
 something to be read to him on the subject of the cruci- 
 fixion. He could speak but little, and chiefly in a re- 
 sponsive way. 
 
 " Is Jesus precious to you?" 
 
 Dr. a. " yes !" 
 
 " You are clothed with that white robe ?" 
 
 Dr. a. " I am." 
 
 " Do you feel any fear now ?" 
 
 Dr. a. "Not the slightest!" 
 
 "You love us still?" 
 
 Looking round at all most affectionately, he fixed his 
 eyes upon his wife, and said, 
 
 "My dear one!" to his daughter, "My darling 
 child !" 
 
 He complained of his memory failing, and of double 
 vision. He was unable to turn himself, nor could he be 
 moved for his bed to be made. 
 
 Tuesday, February 6. He was again much revived. 
 
252 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Several friends called to see him, though he was unable 
 to speak to them, except in monosyllables. 
 
 Mrs. Gr. " You are very weak, but you are able, not- 
 withstanding this debility, to take pleasure in thinking 
 of Christ ?" 
 
 Dr. a. " yes !" 
 
 W. L. "You've no anxiety no fear?" 
 
 Dr. a. (Emphatically,) " None !' 
 
 The symptoms became very alarming towards even- 
 ing; and, about midnight, as we were all watching 
 around his bed, his daughter, taking his hand, said, "It's 
 your child, father !" 
 
 Dr. G-. (With much tenderness) "My great gem!" 
 Then turning to his wife he said, "And is this Mater?" 
 fixing on her a look of indescribable affection. He after- 
 wards affectionately recognised all present individually. 
 
 N. " Christ is with you !" 
 
 Dr. a. "I feel him!" 
 
 N. "We are broken-hearted in prospect of losing 
 you." 
 
 Dr. Gr. " We shall all live together in heaven ; cleave 
 close to Christ walk with him." 
 
 Wednesday, February 7. At 2 o'clock, A. M., he 
 called for some refreshment, but the effort of eating was 
 very exhausting to him. From a fear that the light on 
 the tray might distress him, he was asked if it should be 
 removed. 
 
253 
 
 Dr. Gr. "Not while you are here:" implying his 
 wish to look on the faces of his family. 
 
 He then said, "But when am I to leave you?" 
 
 JW. " One of your medical friends told us you would 
 not see the daylight." 
 
 Dr. 0-. "No, I shall live longer than that." 
 
 Desiring, but unable to speak more, N. said, " You 
 cannot talk now, but we know what you would say if 
 you could. Your heart is full of love to us and to Jesus." 
 
 Dr. G-. (Very earnestly) " That is it." 
 
 At six o'clock, A. M., it was evident from the sudden 
 change which had taken place in his appearance, that 
 his end was at length rapidly approaching. 
 
 E. " You'll soon be in heaven !" 
 
 Dr. G-. "Yes; and you'll all follow me; and I'll 
 welcome you. We all hold the same principles." 
 
 E. repeated, " Though I walk through the valley 
 of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art 
 with me ; thy rod and thy staif they comfort me." 
 
 Dr. G. responded, " Yes ; if He were not with me, 
 how dark it would be ! But it's all light !" 
 
 At eight o'clock, he awoke from a short sleep, and 
 listened with deep interest to some of Lavington's Sacra- 
 mental Meditations, and closing passages from Baxter's 
 Saints' Rest; his countenance beamed with heartfelt 
 delight, and the most cordial concurrence in the senti- 
 ments which they expressed. 
 22 . 
 
 ' 
 
254 MEMOIR OF 
 
 About noon, a friend calling to bid him farewell, he 
 said, by a great effort, "Give her a chair;" so con- 
 siderate was he to the last of the comfort of others. 
 
 W. L., entering his room, said, " This looks like a 
 defeat, Gordon, but it's a victory." 
 
 Dr. 6r. (emphatically, though in a whisper). " It is." 
 
 W. L. " We shall all think of you." 
 
 Dr. G-. "Thank you!" 
 
 W. L. " You can say, ' Thanks be to God, who 
 giveth us the victory ?' ' 
 
 Dr. a. " Indeed I can !" 
 
 W. L. " That's your consolation Christ, my Sa- 
 viour, died." 
 
 Dr. a. Yes, it is !" 
 
 N. " We are on this side the river ; but Christ is on 
 the opposite bank, beckoning you to Himself." 
 
 Dr. #. "He is!" 
 
 N. " We cannot bear to part ; but we shall meet in 
 heaven." 
 
 Dr. #. " Christ is there." 
 
 This was said with peculiar emphasis, as if to convey 
 the idea, that however great the joy which the reunion 
 of friends would impart and none entered more fully 
 into this than himself yet the chief joy of the heavenly 
 world would arise from the presence of Jesus, and 
 resemblance to Him. 
 
 Several friends called ; all of whom he kindly recog- 
 
 *>:* 
 
WILLIAM GORDON, M. D. 255 
 
 nised. To his man-servant he said, " God bless you, 
 Tranmer. He will be with you, and be your friend. 
 Persevere in godliness and purity of life." To his 
 nurse " You have been a kind friend to me." 
 
 When left alone with his nearest relatives, he said, 
 after a pause, during which his thoughts were evidently 
 intent on the heavenly city, " Repeat that about the 
 great army !" The quotations from Ret. vii. 9, 10, 
 were read, and, although he said nothing, his counte- 
 nance plainly manifested that he had been understood. 
 He was, by faith, beholding " that great army," whom 
 he was soon to join in celebrating the high anthem of 
 heaven. " Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, 
 be unto Him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb, 
 for ever and ever." 
 
 The feast of bliss which Jesus was preparing for all 
 his followers, was alluded to, and at which he was about to 
 become a guest. To this he replied, in a tone of earnest 
 desire, " I wish he would come." He then took a most 
 tender farewell of his wife. To his distressed daughter 
 he said, with inexpressible tenderness, " Bless thee, my 
 child." 
 
 "You love me still, father !" 
 
 "Yes, dearly." He then opened his hand, which 
 now had almost lost its power of motion, for the purpose 
 of receiving hers, which he tenderly pressed, together 
 with that of her husband. This was its last act. 
 
256 MEMOIR OF 
 
 After a pause, he said, with considerable effort, 
 "Bring them all." His meaning was not understood, 
 but making one more attempt, with a desperate struggle, 
 he whispered, " Everybody !" 
 
 These were his last words. They show how fully he 
 was in possession of his mind, and how entirely con- 
 scious he was of his being on the point of departure. 
 Knowing the melancholy satisfaction of being present at 
 the actual death of a dear friend, of which they might 
 be deprived who had kindly quitted his room, lest he 
 should be inconvenienced by a crowd, his last effort of 
 affection was to summon all in the house into his cham- 
 ber, which was now filled with sorrowing but silent 
 friends. 
 
 Increased difficulty of breathing was the only 
 distressing symptom. He appeared no longer con- 
 scious of what took place around him. He gazed 
 upwards, as in rapt vision. No film overspread his eyes. 
 They beamed with an unwonted lustre, and the whole 
 countenance, losing the aspect of disease and pain, with 
 which we had been so long familiar, glowed with an 
 expression of indescribable rapture. As we watched in 
 silent wonder and praise, his features, which had become 
 motionless, suddenly yielded for a few seconds, to a 
 smile of ecstasy which no pencil could ever depict, and 
 which none who witnessed it can ever forget. And when 
 it passed away, still the whole countenance continued to 
 
257 
 
 beam and brighten, as if reflecting the glory on which 
 the soul was gazing. Like Stephen, he was by faith 
 looking up to heaven, and with a clearer vision than may 
 be hoped for, till the river of death is well nigh passed, 
 was beholding, through the opening gates of glory, " the 
 Son of Man standing at the right hand of God." It is 
 not too much to say, that, as far as the expression of 
 holy rapture could contribute to it, like Stephen's, " his 
 face was as it had been the face of an angel." 
 
 Though his emaciated frame, propped up by pillows, 
 was incapable of the least effort, yet such was the effect 
 on the bystanders of his upward, outstretching gaze, 
 that even the motionless body itself seemed to be reach- 
 ing forward, as if impatient for the summons to depart. 
 "We saw as much as mortal eye could see of the entrance 
 into glory. Nothing more could have been given us, 
 but the actual vision of the separate spirit, and its 
 angelic convoy. This glorious spectacle lasted for about 
 a quarter of an hour, increasing in interest to the last, 
 during which the soul seemed pouring itself forth from 
 the frail tenement which had imprisoned it, into the 
 embrace of its Lord. The breathing now became 
 shorter and shorter ; then, after a long pause, one last 
 gentle heaving of the chest and without a struggle, at 
 two o'clock, the soul had fled ! 
 22* 
 
(259) 
 
 
 
" The healing art, which Baron Haller applied with unequalled 
 success to the diseases of the body, could not, as he experienced in 
 his own person, reach that dissatisfaction with the present, and that 
 awful apprehension of the future state, which will at certain seasons 
 break in upon, and interrupt the course of business and pleasure, 
 and agitate the bosoms of mankind. 
 
 "With the torrent of fresh images which were poured into his 
 mind from every new contemplation, were mingled the comforts of 
 religion. Its laws were to him a delightful subject of attention, and 
 a joyful object of hope. He tasted of the fountain of life, where refresh- 
 ing streams so invigorated his soul, that he beheld undismayed the King 
 
 of Terrors /" 
 
 SKETCH or BAROK HALLEK. 
 
 (260) 
 
MEMOIK OF 
 DR. CHARLES H. BROU^HTON, 
 
 A SUEGEON OF THE UNITED STATES NAVY. 
 
 DR. BROUGHTON was converted to God on board 
 of a United States vessel in the Gulf of Mexico, 
 sometime during the winter or spring of 1842, whilst on 
 professional duty under the government. Of his previous 
 history but little information is at hand. 
 
 In the winter of 1842, it pleased God to pour out his 
 spirit in a remarkable manner upon the congregation in 
 
 N , Virginia, to which his parents were attached. 
 
 The old and the young, the moral and profane, were 
 alike made the trophies of redeeming grace. An account 
 of the work of God was communicated to him, then in 
 the Gulf of Mexico, by a devoted sister, who also in- 
 formed him of the conversion of many of his old associ- 
 ates, and among them some of the members of his own 
 
 family. This intelligence seems to have been the special 
 
 (261) 
 
 
262 MEMOIR OF 
 
 i 
 means employed by God, in arousing his attention to 
 
 spiritual and eternal things. God is also the hearer of 
 prayer, and his Spirit can reach at once the family at 
 home and the youth in a distant port. 
 
 The following extracts from his letters will exhibit 
 the interest he felt when hearing of the revival in his 
 native place, and seem to furnish to his friends the first 
 information of the spiritual change of which he was the 
 subject : 
 
 " I was deeply affected, you may be sure, by the in- 
 teresting intelligence contained in your last letter ; and 
 had wealth beyond the dreams of avarice become ours, I 
 should have rejoiced less than at the news of an awaken- 
 ing in our own family and town." 
 
 In a letter dated Key West, April 15, he says, 
 " Pleasant and sweet as the voices of those I love were 
 the messengers from home, that came to me by the last 
 mail. They were full of comfort, and raised my heart 
 to the Giver of all good, that even here, where there is 
 no sound of Sabbath bell, where the servants of the Lord 
 are not, and where the wicked seem to strive without 
 restraint, he has provided such rich banquets for me in 
 the gratulations of distant friends, and in their sympathy 
 and advice. To know, too, that nearly all the members 
 of my family have, through Christ, been accepted of 
 God, to know that His Spirit is still spreading and ex- 
 tending among the people of my native town, and that 
 
DR. CHARLES H. BROUGHTON. 263 
 
 many friends, out of the family, but still dear to my 
 remembrance, have felt his influence and forsaken evil, 
 to hear also that the circle of his operations is spreading 
 farther and farther about the country Oh what rapture, 
 what overflowing of eyes and heart did all this cause me ! 
 What praises too do I not owe to the Judge of all the 
 earth, that he has not suffered me to harden my heart in 
 the midst of all these wonders, but has answered the 
 intercessions made in my behalf with the effectual ope- 
 rations of his Spirit ?" 
 
 The struggles and conflicts through which his mind 
 passed, when und6r the special teachings of the Spirit, 
 together with his ultimate acquiescence in God's plan of 
 saving sinners, are stated by himself in two letters bear- 
 ing date March 4, and April 15. In the former he says : 
 
 "I hasten to answer your solicitous inquiry 'Do 
 you feel yourself a poor, lost sinner, with no hope but 
 in Christ, and no joy but in his love !' I do indeed 
 humbly and earnestly trust that the Spirit of God has 
 purged my vision to the beholding of the wickedness of 
 my own heart, and shocked and sickened me with the 
 loathsome spectacle. By that operation I have beheld 
 and comprehended the web of sophistry in which sin 
 had entangled my soul, in the hour of temptation lulling 
 my conscience into security by crying peace, peace, when 
 there was no peace, and with all the serpent's subtlety 
 
264 MEMOIR 'OJf 
 
 persuading me, ' Thou shalt not surely die,' when God 
 had said, ' Thou shalt die. 1 
 
 " Oh how clearly did I see its treachery and deceit, 
 ts wickedness and folly, and how gladly did I turn from 
 the Syren I had listened to, to trust in the Lord, and to 
 wrestle with Him for the hope that is in Christ ! But 
 oh, how hard it was to turn to close my ears to the 
 eloquent pleadings of sin and Satan to believe that 
 the Saviour could pity and love a wretch who had so 
 often witnessed the wonderful works of his Providence, 
 yet went straightway and sinned again ! Yet He 
 remembered i that we are but flesh a wind that passeth 
 away and cometh not again,' and graciously conde- 
 scended to bruise the head of the serpent that had 
 beguiled me, so that I now hope that ' old things have 
 passed away, and all things have become new.' 
 
 "And how differently now do this world and this 
 life appear ! What to me are the cold and unsympa- 
 thizing regards, the unwilling praise that might be 
 irrung from the world by a life spent in its service, to the 
 joy that is in heaven ' over one sinner that repenteth ?' 
 What are the cares and sorrows of worldly ambition, 
 compared with the love, desire, faith, and hope that fill 
 the heart in meditating upon the goodness of God, and 
 reading his word with spiritual discernment? Suroly 
 i the evidence of things not seen, and the substance of 
 
DR. CHARLES H. BROUGHTON. 265 
 
 things hoped for,' are joys that surpass all the joys that 
 flow from sensual objects. 
 
 "I need no further evidence of my sinful nature 
 than that even now I transgress daily, having cause 
 often to grieve that the fear of the Lord is not always 
 before my eyes, that my faith is too weak, and that I 
 am liable to be influenced by the fear of ridicule and 
 the habits of those around me. My eyes have been 
 opened, however, to see that this results chiefly from the 
 neglect of some Christian duty, and I am thus warned to 
 be earnest at all times ; for I find that nothing but the 
 Holy Spirit strengthening me, can so work upon my 
 heart as to destroy the influence of its old habits and 
 associations : nor is this ever withheld when I seek it." 
 
 In his second letter his statements are more minute, 
 and the exercises of his mind are given in a more 
 graphic and interesting manner. 
 
 " The means God has made use of in drawing me to 
 himself, are to me inconceivable. I understand but 
 this, that * whereas I was blind, now I see.' There was 
 sorrow following the known commission of sin there 
 was the desire for reformation there was the sharp 
 conflict between conviction and depraved but rooted 
 natural habits there was the frequent triumph of the 
 latter there was the- deep feeling of wounded pride, 
 self-abaSement, and complete humiliation, in consequence 
 t of my own will not being sufficient for reformation 
 23 
 
266 MEMOIR OF 
 
 there was the consciousness that I should perish except 
 I did repent there was the agony with which I looked 
 upon eternity, dark and cheerless, without joy and 
 without even hope there was the anxious inquiry, 
 6 What shall I do to inherit eternal life ?' and then, 
 thank God, there was gushing prayer, l God be merciful 
 to me a sinner' then came answers like revelations from 
 heaven then did I seem to hear, ' ME for him, life for 
 life I offer; on me let thine anger fall; account me 
 man. I, for his sake, will leave thy bosom, and this 
 glory next to thee freely put off; and for him lastly die.' 
 " It seemed to me as if God < reasoned with me,' so 
 quickly were my questions answered, so fully were my 
 doubts removed. Then did I feel 
 
 " ' The sweet comfort and peace 
 Of a soul in its earliest love.' 
 
 (Thank you for that hymn, I have it literally by heart.) 
 How mysterious do my former blindness and my present 
 light appear ! I used to feel quite secure ; imagined 
 that I loved God, and that God loved me. I worshipped 
 Him in the self-righteous spirit of Socrates, or as the 
 Indian worships his Manitou, or the Turk confides in his 
 destiny ; knowing nothing of natural depravity and 
 enmity to God, and the inevitable necessity of a Saviour ; 
 knowing not that without Christ < we can do Nothing,' 
 and that salvation is not of ourselves, but the gift of 
 
DR. CHARLES H. BROUGHTON. 267 
 
 God. ' the depth of the riches both of the wisdom 
 and knowledge of God ! How unsearchable are His 
 judgments, and His ways past finding out !' 
 
 "And now, what a blessed thing it is to know and 
 love this Saviour ! < Shall tribulation, or distress, or 
 persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword, 
 separate me from the love of Christ ?' I trust not, with 
 the help of God. Though troubles and trials surround 
 me here as a fiery furnace, there is One walking with 
 me like the Son of God, as with the Jewish youths, and 
 the smell of fire shall not pass upon me. How beautiful 
 is the following verse in Isaiah, < Fear not, for I have 
 redeemed thee. I have called thee by thy name, and 
 thou art mine. When thou passest through the waters, 
 I will be with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall 
 not overflow thee. When thou walkest through the fire 
 thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle 
 upon thee.' 
 
 " These things are my comfort, my very present help 
 in time of need. For the daily duties of a heavenly 
 life, I have that best of guides the Bible, read by the 
 light of the Spirit; and for my commentator I have 
 Baxter's Saints' Rest a book filled with the breath of 
 active hope and love, as if, to use his own words, < the 
 things written there had been engraved on his heart by 
 a beam from the face of the Son of God.' The tracts 
 you sent me are very appropriate and please me much, 
 
268 MEMOIR OF 
 
 especially those entitled 'Do I grow in Grace?' and 
 ' Ad vice to Young Converts.' My companions, I dare 
 say, think me less of a ' good fellow' now than they did ; 
 but the Christian who acts consistently with his faith, 
 must command respect from all but fools, and the esteem 
 of such, or indeed of any, is of small value compared 
 with the love of God. ' I reckon that the sufferings of 
 this present time are not worthy to be compared with 
 the glory that shall be revealed in us.' These things, 
 however, God has tempered to me, and I go on my 
 course without exciting the opposition or ridicule of 
 those around me. Generally, and I speak it in their 
 praise, my brother officers, though caring for none of 
 these things themselves, respect the feelings and opinions 
 of others, and have the good sense to distinguish between 
 disinclination for their occupations, and dislike for 
 themselves." 
 
 The following extract from a letter, dated Key 
 West, March 16, furnishes many pleasing evidences of 
 the thoroughness of the change which had taken place 
 in the heart of Dr. Broughton. It also exhibits the 
 groanings of his soul while situated amid influences 
 adverse to its spiritual advancement and comfort. 
 
 "It is a source of regret to me that I cannot be 
 more alone, to indulge in pious exercises and reflections 
 with greater ease and freedom ;* and to escape the con- 
 versation of the persons around me, I have sometimes 
 
DR. CHARLES H. BROUGHTON. 269 
 
 gone ashore in a savage country, with a musket to 
 protect me, that I might be alone with God. Yet even 
 the conduct and conversation of my messmates teaches 
 me humility, inasmuch as I, ' knowing the judgment of 
 God, that they which commit such things are worthy of 
 death, have not only done the same, but had pleasure in 
 those that do them.' Thus when I see ignorance and 
 folly in others, far from feeling any self-complacency, I 
 derive the lesson that the good I may have is not of 
 myself, but from the grace of God. 
 
 "Blessed be God, too, that the new desires and 
 impulses he has planted in me, he has not forgotten to 
 water and increase. I felt not shame but joy, a few 
 days ago, when appealed to to decide an argument about 
 the propriety of some pleasurable sin, to hear its advo- 
 cate exclaim, ' Oh, the doctor takes his morality from 
 the Bible.' And yet, not a long time has elapsed since 
 I should have been ashamed to have him see me with 
 the Bible in my hand ! 
 
 " I have been always fond of acquiring knowledge ; 
 but latterly, how changed is the motive. Once, every 
 fact that I added to my hive, every new idea that flashed 
 upon my mind, every labour that was undertaken, and 
 every task performed, was but a snare to my feet, a 
 temptation in my path. Ostentatious display was the 
 motive, and self-conceit the result. And great indeed 
 was the barrier of pride and self-reliance with which I 
 
 23* " 
 
270 MEMOIR OF 
 
 had thus fortified my heart. The grace of God, how- 
 ever, has been greater, and the knowledge of Christ is 
 now my highest aim, my chief hope. A mine of wisdom 
 has been opened to me in the Gospel by the light of 
 grace, where I had previously groped about in darkness. 
 
 " In the wonders of scientific research I now can 
 hear the voice of God, and see His hand. In the his- 
 tory of the past I can watch His providence working 
 out its own ends, and so disposing events as to make 
 them work together for His own glory and the advance- 
 ment of His kingdom. Even my imagination, that 
 enemy to truth and heightener of sinful lusts, has, under 
 the gentle influence of Christ, become an associate with 
 faith and hope and love, in strengthening my convic- 
 tions and quickening my perceptions of heavenly things. 
 There are sins, alas too numerous, that do easily beset 
 me, and which sometimes bring the fear that my ' good- 
 ness is as the morning cloud,' that I am still under the 
 dominion of sin and Satan, and that the hope of eternal 
 life with me is a mere delusion. 
 
 " I endeavour to forsake sinful pleasures, for I have 
 ceased to delight in them. An easy disposition, how- 
 ever, often induces me to yield. May God forgive me, 
 and strengthen me by His grace to hold on in ' patient 
 continuance in well doing' to trust less in myself, and 
 more in Christ to watch and pray, lest I enter into 
 temptation. Your prayers, my dear sister, I am sure I 
 
DR. CHARLES H. BROUGHTON. 271 
 
 have. I have written a long account of my feelings 
 upon religion. It is a subject that engages my thoughts 
 continually, and which has precedence of every other, so 
 that I should not tire were I to write ever so much more. 
 You will feel with me and for me, and can fully appre- 
 ciate my situation." 
 
 When a soul is converted, it is impossible for it to be 
 idle. Salvation may begin with itself, but can only end 
 with all who need it. The feelings of Dr. Broughton cm 
 this subject are exhibited in a communication, dated 
 Indian Key, May, 1842. 
 
 " It is the high privilege of my vocation not only to 
 minister physical relief to suffering man, but also in the 
 ear of him who thought to die hopeless and unpitied, to 
 speak words of sympathy, comfort, and peace. Of what 
 priceless value then and at what small cost is a simple 
 pressure of the hand, accompanied with a whisper of 
 that love that requires of the most hardened sinner the 
 exercise of faith alone for salvation ! 
 
 " I have for some time past been deeply interested 
 and affected by the accounts that reach us of the revival 
 of religion, and the progress of temperance at the North. 
 They surpass all human conception, and ought alone to 
 convict sinners, as the great light from heaven did Saul. 
 How visible are the workings of God's Spirit ! I look 
 with wonder and confidence to these movements and the 
 
272 MEMOIR OF 
 
 missionary cause, as the setting of the tide towards the 
 kingdom of heaven universal upon earth. Inquiries 
 into the future, farther than depends upon the promises 
 of God, are generally vain and useless. But these 
 promises should urge Christians onward not to ask, 
 'Are all things ready?' but earnestly to labour, that 
 the knowledge of salvation may be spread abroad, and 
 freely to give as they have freely received, the glad 
 tidings of * good will to men.' 
 
 " I am perhaps carried beyond the humility proper 
 for me, in thus expressing my opinion ; but these are 
 matters that I feel zealous about, and my mouth speaks 
 out from the fulness of my heart. I feel my benevolent 
 sympathies expand the more, the more they are grati- 
 fied. Like the circle in water, that, starting from one 
 point, spreads itself over the whole surface, so charity 
 with me, by God's blessing, though beginning at home, 
 did not stop there. My first desires were for myself, 
 then my family, my friends and acquaintances came 
 next, then my country, then all human kind ; and, glory 
 to God, His work seems to prosper in all. Please tell 
 Thomas, that as he is my purser I make him my almoner 
 also, and commission him to make an offering for me at 
 the concerts of prayer for missions, and also for Sabbath 
 schools." 
 
 Converted on board a man-of-war, and separated by 
 his situation from the privileges of the sanctuary, the 
 
DR. CHARLES H. BROUGHTON. 273 
 
 heart of Dr. Broughton, like that of David, panted for 
 the courts of the Lord's house. His feelings, together 
 with his high appreciation of the Holy Scriptures in his 
 temporary exile from the house of God, may be learned 
 from a letter dated Indian Key, June 17, 1842 : 
 
 " God knows what is best for me, but I cannot feel 
 here, while surrounded by persons whose associations 
 and habits influence me somewhat, as if I had given my 
 whole soul to Christ. Too often do I feel bowed to the 
 dust with shame that, having understood so great salva- 
 tion, I have not buckled on the whole armour of God to 
 guard it against all assaults of the enemy of souls. I 
 sometimes fear that my peace has been presumption, so 
 liable am I to be led away from the Spirit by trusting 
 for strength to myself. Oh, for the sympathy and com- 
 panionship of Christian friends ! Oh, for the benefit of 
 pious example and conversation, for holy Sabbath days 
 and the enforcement of the Gospel by teachings, per- 
 suasions, and alarms ! 
 
 " Yet God has stood by me in the greatest straits, 
 and every fresh conviction of sin and unworthiness has 
 been joined with fresh conviction of the necessity of a 
 Saviour. Like Pilate, I used often to ask, 'What is 
 truth ?' and like him, too often I would not wait for an 
 answer. I used to think that truth was something that 
 people wished or imagined to be so ; that every man's 
 notion of what was true depended upon prejudice, and 
 
274 MEMOIR OF 
 
 that all questions might have as much said upon one 
 side as on the other. But how different is Revealed 
 Truth ! He that has it knows it, feels it, it is his. The 
 combined powers of the world and of Satan cannot take 
 it from him ; it is a part of him the sure i evidence of 
 things not seen.' 
 
 " Oh, I have felt my whole frame tingle and my 
 hands clasp in ecstasy, as in the Bible the Spirit of truth 
 and love has revealed to me mighty and wonderful 
 things, such as I could have never known or even 
 dreamed of. And I have hated the flesh, whose sluggish- 
 ness, whose passions have made us to see these things 
 * in part' only. Certainly nothing can be more powerful 
 than this truth, to comfort, to exalt, to redeem. I 
 cannot refrain in my letters from pouring out my feel- 
 ings to you on this subject. They find here no other 
 earthly vent, and you, I am sure, will be interested by 
 them, while it is a relief to me." 
 
 But a short time after this the vessel in which Dr. 
 Broughton had been an involuntary exile from the 
 means of grace, was ordered home, and without delay, 
 he fulfilled the vow he had made in a distant land, of 
 dedicating himself wholly to the service of God. On 
 November 27, 1842, together with four others, one of 
 them a converted Roman Catholic, he made a public 
 profession of the faith of the Gospel, and for the first 
 time sat down at the table of Christ among his people. 
 
DR. CHARLES H. BROUGHTON. 275 
 
 " How sweet and awful is the place, 
 
 With Christ within the doors, 
 While everlasting Love displays 
 The choicest of her stores !" 
 
 And sweet no doubt our young brother felt it to be a 
 day of espousals a day of communion with Christ and 
 his people a day never to be forgotten. 
 
 For several months after his connexion with the 
 church our young friend held the office of surgeon on 
 board a ship of the line, then lying in port. He now 
 enjoyed the privilege of attending the sanctuary regu- 
 larly, and of mingling his Christian sympathies with those 
 of his. brethren. His pastor has often noticed the steady 
 fixedness of his dark eye, and the animated glow of his 
 earnest countenance under the preaching of the word. 
 His ardour was amazing, and yet it was so internal, so 
 deep as not to be noticed by any save his most intimate 
 friends. He often visited his pastor in his study to con- 
 verse about spiritual and eternal things. On most of 
 these occasions he would replenish himself with Tracts, 
 which he distributed among the sailors as he had oppor- 
 tunity. For the seaman he felt a deep sympathy. He 
 knew his destitution, and had a heart to relieve, so far 
 as he could, the inconveniences to which he was subject. 
 
 A judicious friend of his having suggested to the 
 writer that his talents might probably be available for 
 the pulpit, the Tract entitled " Call and Qualifications 
 
 
276 MEMOIR OP 
 
 for the Gospel Ministry," was put in his hands. This 
 Tract he read carefully and with much prayer. It laid 
 before him a field of usefulness larger than had previ- 
 ously occurred to his mind. Many difficulties, however, 
 arose. He was in his country's service. He was in not 
 only an honourable but a useful profession. Change was 
 uncertain. He might not be qualified he might not be 
 called. All these objections arose. His desire for use- 
 fulness, however, had well nigh conquered them all 
 when he was suddenly ordered by government to a 
 cruise among the West India Islands. This circum- 
 stance placed his mind in great trouble. As a convic- 
 tion of duty, however, he obeyed his country's call, say- 
 ing to me as we parted, " I hope to have my mind made 
 up by my return." 
 
 It appears from his letters afterwards that he alto- 
 gether relinquished this idea of preaching. His humi- 
 lity, his consciousness of the greatness of the work, to- 
 gether probably with the disadvantageous situation he 
 occupied to decide such a question, brought him to this 
 result. Still, he " being dead speaketh ;" and the writer 
 earnestly hopes that even his quenched desire may excite 
 the heart of some other of like spirit to fill his place in 
 publishing salvation to a lost world. 
 
 The first letter received from Dr. Broughton after 
 his departure was dated Nassau, New Providence, Jan. 
 20, 1843. In this he writes 
 
DR. CHARLES H. BROUGHTON. 277 
 
 " I feel much ashamed of the despondency I exhib- 
 ited just before leaving home. I knew that I was about 
 to be subjected to trial and privation ; and looking only 
 to myself I felt discouraged and afraid of sinking.- The 
 Lord, however, has graciously stretched out his hand to 
 me though of little faith, and so far I have had blessed 
 experience that he will not forsake those who look to 
 him for help. I am amazed at myself that I have had 
 so little faith. If God's ways were as our ways, or his 
 thoughts as our thoughts, I should long ago have fallen 
 from his favour. But while Christ ever liveth to make 
 intercession, Oh who or what shall separate us from the 
 love of God?" 
 
 The following letter, dated Matanzas, Cuba, Feb. 
 20, will be read with interest : 
 
 " One could scarcely imagine a situation more un- 
 favourable than mine for reading and meditation, and 
 yet I am surprised to find that I can acquire and digest 
 knowledge here as well almost as under more convenient 
 circumstances. The frivolous conversation that is often 
 carried on around me creates a want of occupation, and 
 books and self-study come kindly in to supply it. My 
 slothful flesh tries hard to wheedle me into the belief 
 that there is * a lion in the way,' and that it is useless to 
 try to read ; but I am otherwise constrained to make the 
 effort, which is generally successful. I also find much 
 time when the officers are asleep or keeping their watch 
 24 
 
278 MEMOIR OF 
 
 on deck. I have thus read Scott's Force of Truth,' 
 Newton's ' Life and Letters,' ' Mammon,' several tracts, 
 and have made progress in familiarizing myself with our 
 larger catechism. 
 
 " Passages of the Bible are sometimes brought home 
 to my heart with great force, though generally my con- 
 ceptions are not so clear as I could wish. This, how- 
 ever, is an incentive to perseverance and diligence. 
 Mammon is a very scrutinizing book, and I trust it has 
 done me good. It has certainly opened my eyes to be- 
 hold a beauty in economy, which the phlegmatic maxims 
 of Franklin could never bring me to perceive. Newton, 
 too, I have enjoyed much. One of his letters seemed to 
 take scales from my eyes, and gave me a clue to under- 
 stand, how, through a dark period of doubt and distress, 
 an unseen hand had been keeping alive the fire in my 
 heart which Satan was striving to quench. I can now 
 bless the hand that chastened me, and own with wonder 
 and admiration that he doeth all things well. Now I 
 know, not because of what was told me, but because ' I 
 have seen him and heard him myself.' 
 
 " I see the hand of God in many of the events of my 
 past life, how he has been before me as a refiner of sil- 
 ver, waiting for me with compassionate forbearance, and 
 wooing me to take his image while I have been heaping 
 dross in the way, and my neck has been a sinew of iron, 
 and my brow brass. And what is man's heart, that God 
 
DR. CHARLES H. BROUGHTON. 279 
 
 should love it so, and be resolved to win it? It is 
 strange enough that he should stoop to save us ; but how 
 much more wonderful is it that he should draw us to him 
 against our efforts ! 
 
 " You would scarcely believe me, were I to tell you 
 what narrow conceptions I had formed of God's love, 
 and how ignorant I was of his ways. A short time be- 
 fore I left home I read in Pilgrim's Progf ess the descrip- 
 tion of the man in the iron cage, and my heart feared 
 that the case was mine ; it was so much like what I felt, 
 it was so much like what I deserved. Like David I was 
 afraid lest I should one day perish. But He who know- 
 eth our frame sustained me by his word which preached 
 perseverance in so many places that even unbelief was 
 convinced, and I was enabled calmly to wait for him 
 who 'has the words of eternal life.' Since then I trust 
 I am prepared to say, in whatever frame I am, * Hope 
 thou in God, for I shall yet praise him.' 
 
 "It is a great source of comfort to study the provi- 
 dence of God towards me, and to see in many apparent 
 evils how much good can be extracted. He has disap- 
 pointed hopes that I had formed of earthly happiness, 
 only that I might seek and prize the more the l rest' that 
 'remaineth.' He has placed me here amid trial and 
 privation, that I may learn my own weakness, and be 
 taught to rely solely on him. He has taken me, so young 
 in grace, from those means and ordinances by which his 
 
MEMOIR OP 
 
 efreshes others, that I might look immediately to 
 niu* thout helps and aids. 
 
 " One thing at first distressed me much, the limited 
 sphere of usefulness in which I live. I am now sure, 
 however, that there are few situations on earth in which 
 a conscientious Christian cannot make himself useful. 
 Even in the midst of worldly associations he can observe 
 the specious arguments by which unbelief hides itself in 
 the natural heart, and knowing himself to have been 
 similarly deceived, he can endeavour to convince others 
 that Eternal Life consists not in vain speculations about 
 'fixed fate, free will, fore-knowledge absolute,' nor in 
 the adoption of the mere forms of church worship ; but 
 in repentance unto life and faith in the atonement of 
 Christ. This, to be sure, is looked upon as puritanical ; 
 and human reason will rather delight itself in measuring 
 eternal truth by its own standard, than in considering 
 itself imperfect, and that faith in God's revealed word is 
 the only true wisdom. 
 
 " It is something, however, to tell such that they are 
 wrong, and to have good books at hand which they will 
 sometimes read, if from no other motive, to fill up the 
 vacancy of their time. I have also an additional privi- 
 lege. The captain has requested me to read prayers on 
 Sundays ; and then I can select what parts of Scripture 
 I wish to read, and with God's help I shall not be want- 
 
DR. CHARLES H. BROUGIITON. 281 
 
 ing in a word of exhortation, though not a prophet n*or 
 a prophet's son." 
 
 We have already noticed the fact that Dr. Broughton 
 when leaving home had serious thoughts of preparing 
 for the Christian ministry. The following letter from 
 Pensacola, dated April 24, alludes to this subject, and 
 also exhibits the deep interest he felt in the spiritual 
 welfare of seamen : 
 
 " The denunciations of the Bible against time unim- 
 proved and duty unperformed, and the promises held out 
 to even feeble attempts, had filled my mind with the 
 desire to devote myself to a cause in which I might hope, 
 by the Divine blessing, to be in some humble degree 
 useful. But my charity was unwilling to begin where it 
 should have done. Sloth and selfishness magnified the 
 difficulties I should encounter among thos6 around me, 
 till it seemed a matter almost impossible that I should 
 be useful here ; and I am ashamed while I make the 
 confession, that the privations I must endure in my pre- 
 sent position, and the constant need for caution and 
 watching lest the cause of Christ should suffer reproach 
 through my weakness,, may have had some influence in 
 clouding my understanding and directing my thoughts 
 to the sacrifice of myself that I proposed to make. 
 
 " I had not then experienced how prone the heart is 
 to pervert the leadings of the Spirit, by mixing with them 
 the desires of our own foolish and fond imaginations. 
 24* 
 
282 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Nor had I then reflected that many sailors were them- 
 selves heathen, so far as the lack of Gospel preaching, 
 and minds darkened by ignorance and superstition, and 
 hearts under the dominion of Satan, could so be consi- 
 dered. But now that Christian philanthropy has opened 
 her heart to them, and persons unconnected with them 
 are seeking their welfare, it certainly became me, from 
 my relation to them and from the peculiar opportunities 
 I possess, to take up their cause and to endeavour to 
 help it forward- by whatever means the Lord has given 
 me." 
 
 In another letter, June 16, he says, " I have seen no 
 reason to regret the conclusion I was brought to on the 
 subject of the ministry : on the contrary, in a letter 
 from Mobile, containing information that a present of 
 tbe Evangelical Library had been made to the crew of 
 the B., I have been encouraged by the expression that 
 4 the moral advancement of the seamen around me was 
 the noblest of all ends ;' and I hope to make it my chief 
 concern hereafter to be conscientious in the discharge 
 of this duty." 
 
 A short time after this we find his vessel again cruis- 
 ing among the West India Islands. While at Havana 
 he fell in with a congenial spirit, a young physician from 
 the United States, who was " exerting himself as far as 
 he had the power, to spread the knowledge of the truth 
 around him," of whom he says, " The doctor's company 
 
DR. CHARLES H. BROUGHTON. 283 
 
 was a great comfort to me, and has strengthened and 
 encouraged me not a little." 
 
 With the exception of a small note, the following is 
 the last of Dr. Broughton's letters, dated Pensacola, 
 Nov. 2, 1843. 
 
 " Ere long I hope, arid believe that God will direct 
 my way to you all, though I must saj4hat the plea- 
 surable anticipations I had formed of this event have 
 been not a little diminished by the painful intelligence 
 you communicate of the apparently declining state of 
 religion in the church. My great desire of returning 
 among you was, that I might have my faith increased 
 and strengthened by the example and counsel of faithful 
 Christians, that I might be better able to make known 
 among men the ways of God. I trust that the hope of 
 increasing mere selfish comfort and enjoyment was only 
 a secondary motive, for I have learned in part to bear 
 with contentment the privation of these, in the belief 
 that an eternity of enjoyment will be sufficient to satisfy 
 my most longing desires. 
 
 " Wherever I go, the cry of creation groaning under 
 the curse enters my ear, and the voice within me, whis- 
 pers, 'What art thou, 0, atom? that thou shouldest 
 regard thyself; that thou shouldest bury God's talent in 
 the ground, or consume his Spirit on thy lusts !' Feeble 
 indeed have my efforts been, but God despiseth not ' the 
 day of small things.' 
 
284 MEMOIR OF 
 
 " Since God has enlarged my confidence in Him, I 
 am less perplexed with the superiority of others in 
 natural endowments, and I can argue in a spirit of more 
 candour than formerly, being now more desirous of ele- 
 vating the truth than of exalting myself. I have so 
 often failed when venturing in my own strength to 
 defend the truth of God, in consequence of the greater 
 ability of some of my associates, that I am now quite 
 willing that God should defend His own truth, and con- 
 tent myself with opposing i the sword of the Spirit' to 
 the lovers of the world, trusting that its Author will 
 cause it to smite where He willeth that they should have 
 repentance and the knowledge of Him. There are 
 many kinds of voices in the world which speak of God 
 to these men, and though they have least disposition to 
 listen to the plainest one, yet all the others are but the 
 echoes of this, and with proper light may be known to 
 depend upon it. It is in this way that conversation 
 upon almost any subject may be brought home to the 
 word of God, and thus rendered profitable. 
 
 " But let me tell you of one application I made of 
 the texts you quoted in your letter. Since God has 
 enlarged my confidence in Him, I have discovered my 
 relationship by grace to a much larger family than that 
 lo which I am bound by nature, and although His Spirit 
 aas prompted me to pray with much earnestness for the 
 mlargement and establishment of His kingdom upon 
 

 DR. CHARLES H. BROUGHTON. 285 
 
 earth, yet I have been led to regard with special interest 
 in prayer my own family and church. This I know 
 is often with you aU a subject of prayer, and we must 
 pray in faith, that God may grant our requests. I 
 believe that He does answer prayer thus offered, not 
 only from His word and the experience of Christians 
 of whom I have read or with whom I have conversed, 
 but also from indubitable evidence in iny own experi- 
 ence. I think, too, that the experience of churches is 
 the same with that of individual Christians, and that 
 sunshine and clouds are necessary to the perfecting of 
 faith in both. 
 
 " We are all short-sighted, but experience has taught 
 me, at no small cost, what I dare say it must teach all, 
 that in the day when the candle of the Lord shines upon 
 us, we are prone to be satisfied with ourselves, and, to 
 use your own words, 'to think it impossible that we 
 should ever get back to our former cold state.' We are 
 apt in this condition to imagine that we have a supply 
 of God's grace, which will last us at least for some time 
 to come, and thus grow careless about the use of the 
 means of sustaining our spiritual life. The manna, 
 however, that is so covetously laid up, corrupts, and we 
 discover by sad experience that as natural life must be 
 supported by daily food, equally true is it that only daily 
 supplies can sustain the life and viguor of our faith. If 
 the means are used with the belief that God will deliver 
 
286 MEMOIR OF 
 
 us, even our temporary decline will become a blessing, 
 for in overcoming it we shall have greater strength and 
 confidence than before. Perseverance in effort is the 
 kind of faith that I have found to remove mountains. 
 It is not sighing but running that wins the race. I 
 have found no remedy for suffering and for distressing 
 thoughts like doing. Active obedience is the evidence 
 of that faith which quenches all the fiery darts of Satan. 
 If then we, who are members of an unhealthy church, 
 are patient and faithful, we can confidently expect that 
 God will answer our prayers, and that bread thus cast 
 upon the waters will return after many days. 
 
 "I am afraid, from consciousness of my youth and 
 want of wisdom, that what I have written may have been 
 written with the haste of presumption, and may be so 
 considered by you ; but it has been the result of experi- 
 mental reading of God's word and of prayer, and I have 
 expressed myself thus, not because I think I know the 
 truth more or better than others, but because I think 
 that the ways of God to me have been wonderful, and 
 that the experience of the humblest child of God may 
 be read by others with profit." 
 
 But a short time after the date of the above, Dr. 
 Broughton commenced his voyage homeward. While 
 stopping a short time in the West Indies, he was seized 
 with fever. It was principally of a nervous character, 
 
DR. CHARLES H. BROUGHTON. 287 
 
 and seemed to threaten his life. He reached home, 
 however, early in the next month. He was emaciated, 
 and his appearance excited the sympathy of all who 
 saw him. He survived about two weeks. On the 22d 
 of December, 1843, he breathed his last, calmly reclining 
 on the bosom of God his Saviour. 
 
 His exercises on his deathbed were deeply interest- 
 ing, but were frequently interrupted by mental aberra- 
 tions. On one occasion he said to his mother, " I saw 
 myself all pollution and sin ; and it seems to me that 
 just a drop of a Saviour's blood fell on me, which re- 
 moved all my pollutions, and gave me acceptance with 
 God." 
 
 Just before he expired, he. leaped up in the bed, ex- 
 claiming, "Where is Abraham's bosom? Where is 
 Abraham's bosom ?" The physician in attendance re- 
 plied, "Doctor, Abraham is not here." "Abraham not 
 here!" he exclaimed with amazement "Abraham not 
 here !" and fell back upon his pillow, and died ! Thus 
 vanished into the light of heaven this blaze of piety, 
 which God had so wonderfully created and sustained. 
 

 r. 
 
"Reason is a rebel unto faith, and considers her propositions as 
 absurd. There are a set of heads, that can credit the relations of 
 mariners, yet question the testimonies of St. Paul ; and peremptorily 
 maintain the traditions of JElian or Pliny, yet in histories of Scrip- 
 ture raise queries and objections ; believing no more than they can 
 
 parallel in human authors." 
 
 SIR THOMAS BROWNE, M. D. 
 
 (290) 
 
CONVERSION OF 
 DE. CAPADOSB, 
 
 A JEWISH PHYSICIAN OF AMSTERDAM. 
 
 NO, my dear friends, I will no longer decline to meet 
 your pressing demands, or to fulfil the engagement 
 under which you have placed me, to relate to you how it 
 pleased the God of all grace to call me to the knowledge 
 of himself, and bring me from darkness to his mar- 
 vellous light. My soul is vividly, is deeply convinced, 
 that it has never of itself sought the Lord ; but that the 
 arm of his compassion was extended to it while in its 
 lost condition. It would then be false modesty to refuse 
 you that which, communicated in conversation, appeared 
 somewhat edifying to many dear friends, who saw in it 
 the Saviour's unspeakable love for so wretched a sinner, 
 and felt themselves urged to glorify his name. 
 
 By birth a Portuguese Jew, I was, nevertheless, far 
 from being a zealot in the cause of the religion of my 
 
 (291) 
 * 
 
292 CONVERSION OF 
 
 ancestors. Mj education had been moral rather than 
 religious, inspiring me with horror of vice, and love for 
 what the world styles virtue ; but the goodness of God. 
 alone preserved me from open impiety, somewhat later 
 in life. 
 
 At an early age I was ardently engaged in the 
 pursuit of literature and science : though living in society, 
 and enthusiastically fond of the theatre, balls, and all 
 worldly amusements, I derived even greater satisfaction 
 from study. In my youth, also, I became acquainted 
 with the writings of Voltaire and Rousseau ; but the 
 insolidity, the infidelity, and, above all, the terrible con- 
 sequences of their systems, unfolded to my eyes in the 
 history of the French revolution, guarded me, through 
 the grace that cometh down from on high, against their 
 pernicious influence. 
 
 As I was destined by my parents for the profession 
 of physic, I began to acquire the knowledge necessary 
 for that vocation, although feeling a stronger attraction 
 to the theoretical sciences and philosophical investiga- 
 tion. The circle of my acquaintance consisted of young 
 persons, nominally Christians ; and our debates at the 
 academy generally turned upon the antinomianism of 
 Kant, or the philosophy of Plato ; in short, upon all 
 kinds of abstract questions. 
 
 The Lord had given me a friend (Mr. Dacosta) in 
 the bosom of my kindred. Both of us Jews, and 
 
DR. CAPADOSE. 293 
 
 intimate friends from our infancy, we had similar views 
 on many subjects, and the same circle of acquaintance. 
 A "savant" of the academy of Ley den (the celebrated 
 Bilderdeck), a man of extraordinary genius, a distin- 
 guished poet, an excellent historian, a profound philoso- 
 pher, and above all, a true disciple of Christ, assembled 
 around him at that time a few studious young men. My 
 friend, who had long known him, and I, were among the 
 number of his auditors. He honoured us with peculiar 
 affection ; and his conversations contributed not a little, 
 under God, to direct my mind to serious contemplation. 
 Though he never spoke to me of Christianity before my 
 conversion, he, nevertheless, exercised a great and 
 salutary influence over my heart. The vivacity and 
 fervour of his soul, the nobleness of his sentiments, the 
 force of his logic, the depth and extent of his knowledge, 
 joined to an ardent desire of being useful to youth, all 
 concurred to enrapture us. But no love of a spiritual 
 religion had yet entered my heart. 
 
 It is true that in early childhood, at the age of nine 
 years, I felt the need of prayer ; and asked my Jewish 
 parents for a prayer-book in the French or Dutch lan- 
 guage, that I might be enabled to comprehend the object 
 of my prayers. I urged my brother and sister to do 
 likewise. This seems the more remarkable, since I had 
 seldom observed thos'e around me pray. From that 
 hour I have not ceased to perform this duty, through all 
 25* 
 
294 CONVERSION OF 
 
 the changes of life ; and I may add, that this prayer 
 formed my only worship up to the time of my conver- 
 sion. This form ended with these remarkable words : 
 " I wait thy deliverance, Lord !" 
 
 I have retained the book, and never cast my eyes on 
 it without being melted, and adoring the goodness of the 
 God of my deliverance, who hath deigned to give me, 
 in maturer age, what the child of nine years ceased not 
 to pray for every night, though ignorant of the meaning 
 of his request. 
 
 During the period of my studies, these moments of 
 peculiar emotion returned, leaving very deep traces in 
 my mind. I remember that a poor woman was in 
 the habit of singing psalms in the street on Saturday 
 evening, to excite the compassion of passers by. More 
 than once I left my books, when the singing of pious 
 hymns reached my ears, being irresistibly drawn to the 
 window, and there I remained fixed under the weight of 
 sensations I could not define. The same thing occurred 
 to me when, on Sabbath morning, I heard the melody 
 of psalms rise from under the vaulted roof of a neigh- 
 bouring church. 
 
 I went frequently to the theatre. One evening, 
 when "Joseph in Egypt" was represented, I had no 
 sooner heard the first words of the morning hymn, in 
 imitation of the Hebrew, than, full of patriotic emotion, 
 I felt my tears flowing. Alas ! it was only an illusion 
 
DR. CAPADOSE. 295 
 
 before me ; and profound sorrow soon succeeded this 
 sweet dream in which I had been absorbed. 
 
 At the synagogue, which I continued to attend for 
 the sake of decorum, nothing affected me in the least ; 
 on the contrary, those heartless ceremonies, that want 
 of respect, those shouts, those discordant songs, and the 
 use of a tongue unknown to more than three-fourths of 
 the assembly all this spiritless and lifeless display so 
 disgusted me that I no longer attended regularly ; for I 
 had ever abhorred hypocrisy. 
 
 Nevertheless, to give us a change, and as if he liad 
 caught a glimpse of what was about to happen some 
 years later, the tempter put it into the heart of my 
 friend, and mine, to alter our mode of life. Both of us 
 enemies to half measures, and not being able to suit 
 ourselves with this modern Judaism, which had invented 
 the art of taking up, or laying aside, according to con- 
 venience, the different injunctions of the Mosaic law, we 
 firmly resolved to become true Israelites, rigid observers 
 of every article of the law, intimidated by no authority, 
 and compelling even Christians to respect the Jewish 
 nation. 
 
 National pride, that sentiment which in boyhood led 
 me to say to my good mother, on seeing her afflicted, 
 u Be consoled, mother ; when I am grown up I will carry 
 you to Jerusalem;" increased amazingly at this epoch, 
 and took the place of every other emotion. 
 
296 
 
 CONVERSION OF 
 
 It was in this disposition of heart, and with these 
 resolutions, that we undertook the assiduous reading of 
 the Bible. But, disgrace ! wretchedness of the 
 unconverted soul ? we could go no further than Genesis ! 
 Incessant irony, a spirit of mockery, and often even 
 (Lord, enter not into judgment with us !) blasphemy was 
 upon our lips while engaged in prayer. And this was 
 carried to such a height that I ended by saying to my 
 friend, that it were better to renounce our reading than 
 to conduct it in this manner. 
 
 Our plans for eminence in the Jewish religion 
 vanished like smoke. The termination of my professional 
 studies was at hand : this was in 1818. I took my 
 degree in medicine, and left the academy where my time 
 had not been altogether wasted. I returned to my 
 native city, Amsterdam, full of high expectations for 
 the future: a fair and honourable career seemed to 
 open before me. 
 
 I had an uncle, one of the first physicians of. Hol- 
 land, a literary man, and justly esteemed by the best 
 families. He possessed public confidence, not only as a 
 physician, but also on account of his social relations. 
 Without children, he took me home to be his son and 
 successor. I was soon introduced to a rich circle of 
 families ; very worthy and honourable, doubtless, but with 
 whom Christianity was nothing more than an exterior 
 profession, attended by a life altogether worldly. 
 
DK. CAPADOSE. 297 
 
 Although for some years I had been oftener in the 
 society of Christians than in that of my fellow-religionists, 
 I am sure that none ever spoke to me of Christianity. 
 My friends and young colleagues, with whom I often 
 passed several evenings of the week, did not appear to 
 have the smallest idea of religion. I remember that 
 once, the conversation falling on Christianity, they made 
 a display of their infidelity, and spoke/with very little 
 respect of the Lord Jesus Christ. I expressed my 
 astonishment ; adding, that I, a Jew, did not believe in 
 Jesus Christ ; but that, in my opinion, every Christian, 
 who, disbelieving that Jesus Christ is Grod, still con- 
 tinued to offer prayer and homage to him, was an 
 idolater I 
 
 One of these young physicians was happily converted 
 some years later : he recalled to my mind the conver- 
 sation of that evening, and assured me how confused he 
 had been, that so severe and yet so merited an apos- 
 trophe should be uttered by the mouth of a Jew. He is 
 at this time one of my dear brethren in Jesus Christ, 
 and walks with much faith and fidelity. How admirable 
 are thy ways, Lord ! and thy judgments, how 
 righteous ! 
 
 Nevertheless, in the midst of daily increasing occu- 
 pations, though surrounded by all the comforts of life, I 
 was far from being inwardly happy. The desire of 
 knowledge, the thirst after scientific truths, augmented 
 
298 CONVERSION OF 
 
 within me, as worldly pleasures daily grew more sick- 
 ening. But all my researches, all my studies, all my 
 endeavours to satisfy the internal want that tormented 
 me, continued fruitless, and left a frightful void in my 
 soul. 
 
 During long sleepless nights, occasioned by an op- 
 pression of the chest, from which I had been a frequent 
 sufferer in my youth, I asked myself, in the midst of sad 
 reflections, why I was on the earth ? " What is man ?" 
 said I to myself. " Should I not be a thousand times 
 happier if I were only an inferior creature, an inhabitant 
 of the air, a worm of the earth ? It is true I should 
 move in a narrower sphere; but then I should not 
 undergo what I am now suffering in mind and body." 
 Many a time, at the close of my evening prayer, which 
 I uttered aloud, my heart added, " would that this were 
 the last day of my life 1" 
 
 I have preserved the correspondence that I held with 
 two of my friends : the contents of their letters vividly 
 recalls to mind my sufferings at that time. One of these 
 letters commences with these words : "I cannot express 
 to you, dear friend, the shock your letter has given me. 
 Your melancholy seems to assume the character of des- 
 pair ; and what must be the consequence with a consti- 
 tution so feeble and a heart so sensitive as yours ? No, 
 your body cannot hold out, dear friend ; I fear that you 
 will soon succumb," &c. Then follows some advice, 
 
DK. CAPADOSE. 299 
 
 which, though dictated by the kindest friendship, was yet 
 wanting in what constitutes the spirit of all true conso- 
 lation. 
 
 My mode of life dissatisfied me. Eager in quest of 
 truth ; seeking everywhere a certain principle, there was 
 not a day of my life passed without, alas ! the deplorable 
 necessity of acknowledging the uncertainty of the 
 science to which I was devoted. I enjoyed, indeed, the 
 confidence of my patients ; and by the grace of God, 
 was what is called a fortunate physician ; yet I passed 
 my days in painful constraint. 
 
 My uncle, the worthy old gentleman in whose house I 
 was residing, fatigued by the numerous occupations of 
 the day, was not pleased to see me consecrating the 
 evening hours to study. Impatient to give myself up 
 to some occupation more suited to my taste, I was free 
 only at nigRt, and thus contracted the habit of sitting 
 up till a very late hour. Nevertheless, all this midnight 
 labour left still existing in my heart the frightful void 
 which so embittered life. It was not that I felt any 
 disquietude for my sins ; assuredly not, for in that case 
 I should have shuddered to demand death : I was under 
 the weight and curse of sin, without suspecting it, or 
 even seeking a remedy. 
 
 One day, going to see my intimate friend, who was 
 just married, I found that he had received a letter from 
 our celebrated professor, with whom he kept up #, liter- 
 
300 CONVERSION OF 
 
 ary correspondence. "Will you listen to his letter," 
 said he, " and hear with what fine verses he addresses 
 me ?" Willingly, I replied. The lines, in which he de- 
 scribed with energy and fervour the glorious hopes of 
 Israel, were in truth sublime: they ended with this 
 apostrophe : " If thou, dear friend, the Christian's name 
 will take, contented I'll my spirit yield. My life were 
 a small boon to give for thy soul's sake !" 
 
 At these words, pronounced in a low tone, I felt my 
 indignation aroused ; it appeared to me that my friend 
 had not been sufficiently shocked at them. " Take care," 
 said I, " there is a plan formed to seduce us ;" and then 
 hastily departed. 
 
 The whole day my mind remained absorbed and lost 
 in meditation. I could not conceive how a man of such 
 profound science could believe in the Christian religion ; 
 nor how one who, for so many years, had* kept up the 
 closest intimacy with me, without ever speaking to us of 
 Christianity ; who even appeared to have so much respect 
 for the Old Testament, should suddenly resolve to speak 
 to my friend in this tone. My heart, naturally inclined 
 to mistrust, saw here only an adroit attempt to seduce us 
 from our religion, and I suffered from the thought that 
 my friend did not partake thoroughly of my indig- 
 nation. 
 
 From that day I took up the word of God with the 
 intention of examining it. My friend did the same ; 
 
DR. CAPADOSE. 301 
 
 and afterwards, whenever we walked out together, our 
 conversation turned on passages of Scripture that espe- 
 cially fixed our attention. Having begun with the Gos- 
 pel according to Matthew, I was struck, in the com- 
 mencement, on seeing how this evangelist, very far from 
 reversing the authority of the Old Testament, RESTED 
 UPON IT, on the contrary, as his basis, and proposed 
 nothing more than to prove the unity of the two Testa- 
 ments in the accomplishment of the prophecies. 
 
 In this way many months passed, when, more and 
 more encouraged to pursue researches that daily afforded 
 us greater interest, we resolved to effect what we had 
 attempted some years earlier, though with a very differ- 
 ent disposition of heart : it was to meet as often as pos- 
 sible, to read together and communicate our doubts and 
 reflections to each other. To this effect we retired to a 
 corner of the paternal mansion ; and it is not without 
 vivid emotion, nor without adoring the goodness and 
 wisdom of God, that I recall the remembrance of those 
 happy moments, those hours so agreeable and so blessed, 
 that we passed together, as it were in the presence of 
 the God of our fathers. 
 
 Our -zeal and interest increased as we advanced. 
 My mind, wearied with fruitless researches, beheld a 
 vast and untried field open before it, into which it en- 
 tered with an ardour and irresistible attraction that I 
 recognised later as the expression of my heavenly Fa- 
 
 2G 
 
302 CONVERSION OF 
 
 ther's love, by which He draws to his dearly beloved 
 Son the souls he would save. This meditation on the 
 word of God became at length the most urgent want of 
 my heart. It was not enough that I knew the truth, I 
 felt the need of possessing it and living on its substance. 
 Although I could not then discern clearly what was 
 passing within me, nevertheless I remember to have had 
 moments of rapture at the thought that I could perceive 
 in my path visible marks of divine assistance and pro- 
 tection. One day, when my friend and I were together, 
 occupied with our accustomed researches, my brother 
 surprised us : he saw on the table, alongside of the open 
 Bible, a Spanish author, the only work of human origin 
 we perused with the word of God. He opened the book 
 and read the title. It was " Defense de la foi chreti- 
 enne;" ("a defence of the Christian faith,") by Profes- 
 sor Heydeck. He read only these words : " Defense de 
 la foi," (" defence of the faith.") " What are you en- 
 gaged in every day together ?" asked he, replacing the 
 book; u do you desire to become Rabbis?" Then 
 changing the subject, he left us. Here we saw the pro- 
 tecting hand of God ; for if my brother had read the 
 whole title, we should have been discovered ; at least, 
 the suspicion of our families would have rested on us. 
 
 On another occasion I was in my uncle's library, and 
 ever eager to meet with something relating to that which 
 occupied me incessantly, I ran my eye impatiently over 
 
DR. CAPADOSE. 303 
 
 a multitude of books, to find one that would tell me 
 something in regard to Christianity. At last I dis- 
 covered a large folio, entitled "The Works of Justin 
 Martyr." Although this 'writer was at that time en- 
 tirely unknown to me, the title of Martyr excited a 
 hope that I should find in it something relating to 
 Christianity. I opened it, and the first paragraph on 
 which my eye rested was the "Dialogue with Trypho 
 the Jew." I read it hastily, and found there a succinct 
 exposition of the prophecies relating to the Messiah, 
 which was very useful to me. Here was very evidently 
 another interposition of Providence, and my heart was 
 deeply touched with it. 
 
 One night I was reading the prophet Isaiah : when 
 I came to the fifty-third chapter, the perusal of it made 
 so vivid an impression upon me, and showed me so 
 clearly, and, as it were, feature by feature, what I had 
 read in the Gospel of the sufferings of Christ, that I 
 actually thought some other Bible had been substituted 
 in the place of my own : I could not be persuaded that 
 this fifty-third chapter, which may be justly styled a 
 Gospel in brief, formed a part of the Old Testament. 
 On reading this, it seemed impossible for a Jew to doubt 
 that Christ was the promised Messiah. 
 
 Whence came so strong an impression ? I had often 
 read this same chapter, but this time I read it with the 
 light of God's spirit. From that hour I fully recognised 
 
304 CONVERSION OF 
 
 in Christ the true Messiah, and our meditations on the 
 word of God took a new turn. This was, as it were, the 
 beginning, the aurora of a glorious day to our souls : 
 the light continually spread more of its vivifying rays, 
 enlightened our minds, warmed our hearts, and afforded 
 me even then indescribable consolation. I began to 
 solve the wherefore of many of the enigmas of life, that 
 had occupied my mind, rather to weary and sadden, 
 than to tranquillize and instruct me. Everything around 
 me appeared to possess new life ; the end and interest 
 of my existence were entirely changed. Happy days, 
 blessed by a sense of the Master's presence ! I shall 
 never forget them ! It seldom happens, when I review 
 the journey of the two disciples to Emmaus, that the 
 recollections of those days when my friend and I met 
 and walk4 together, do not come up afresh into my 
 memory. Like them we can say, " Did not our heart 
 burn within us while he talked to us by the way, and 
 while he opened to us the Scriptures ?" 
 
 I have remarked above, that, by the guidance of 
 God, we had abstained from communicating to any per- 
 fcon what was passing in our hearts ; and that, limiting 
 ourselves to reading and comparing the word of God, 
 we neglected every other book, excepting the work of 
 Heydeck, which we consulted regularly. This author 
 had been a rabbi in Germany; but having embraced 
 Catholicism, he was elected professor of the oriental 
 
DE. CAPADOSE. 305 
 
 languages at Madrid, where I believe he still resides. 
 The work we had before us, written in the form of letters, 
 possessed much of the spirit and knowledge of the Scrip- 
 tures, and contained a defence of Christianity against 
 rationalism. The perusal of this was doubly useful to 
 us, since we had occasion to remark how powerful the 
 logic and how forcible the proofs were, when contending 
 against the opinions of a Voltaire and a Rousseau ; and 
 how weak they were when defending Catholicism against 
 the principles of the Reformation. 
 
 Whenever I had a leisure moment in the morning I 
 always absented myself to read the word of God ; for I 
 did not dare to do so in my uncle's presence. One day 
 I had been more particularly engaged with this passage 
 of the eighth chapter of Isaiah : " Behold a virgin shall 
 conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Imma- 
 nuel." I descended from the library, and found a Jew- 
 ish physician, a friend of my uncle, waiting in the ante- 
 chamber : he was turning over the leaves of a new edition 
 of the Bible. "Here," said he, "is a fatal passage, 
 that we can hardly wrest from the Christians." It was 
 the very passage of Isaiah on which I had been medita- 
 ting. My mind was vividly touched, and I recognised 
 again the hand of God. 
 
 " Ah ! why," replied I, " should we not acknowledge 
 "le truth?" 
 
 In the mean while my uncle entered. It was the din- 
 
 26* 
 
306 CONVERSION OF 
 
 ner hour. "What question are you debating?" asked 
 he. The physician informed him ; and knowing how 
 versed my uncle was in the rabbinical writings, he inquired 
 what our rabbins said of this passage. " Alas ! a heap 
 of nonsense," replied my uncle, rising up. We entered 
 an adjoining room where dinner was served. My heart 
 beat strong, and I inwardly blessed the Lord for permit- 
 ting me to hear even these words, much as they indicated 
 his want of reverence for the Divine oracles, from the 
 mouth of a man whose rabbinical science gave him 
 authority among the Jews. 
 
 All these circumstances, guided by the wisdom and 
 goodness of God, concurred to convince me more and 
 more that the truth was in Christianity alone. But what, 
 at the outset, was only the desire of my understanding, 
 had become that of my heart. Knowledge no longer 
 satisfied me ; I felt the need of love. Then it was that 
 the rays of the Sun of Righteousness, which rises upon 
 us gradually, conveyed to me, with the light that illu- 
 mined me, that vivifying and celestial warmth which 
 gives us the life of God. I acknowledged that it was 
 through love the Saviour came to seek me : I now began 
 to feel the weight of my sins ; or, to use a better expres- 
 sion, my total misery. But this sentiment was absorbed 
 in that of divine love. I had found Christ my life, the 
 central point of all my affections and all my thoughts, 
 the only object capable of filling the immense void in my 
 
DR. CAPADOSE. 307 
 
 heart ; the key of every mystery ; the principle of all 
 true philosophy, of every truth "the Truth" itself. 
 
 By degrees, as the Spirit of God confirmed my faith, 
 I felt more unhappy in the position in which I found 
 myself, losing in my uncle's society so many precious 
 hours and evenings that I could have desired to employ 
 in further researches into the only subject that interested 
 me on earth. 
 
 Every day I felt more and more deeply the necessity 
 of coming to an open declaration of my sentiments ; but 
 my uncle, that uncle who had loaded me with kindness, 
 who cherished me as a son, who saw in me the support 
 of his old age how could I resolve to avow to him what, 
 considering his age and choleric temperament, could not 
 fail to make an impression and occasion a shock, the 
 consequences of which were incalculable ? I can attest 
 to the glory of God, that the certainty there was, in case 
 I made the avowal, of losing a considerable inheritance 
 that awaited me, a certainty which the event has con- 
 firmed, formed no part of the grounds of my hesitation. 
 All my fears were, lest I should compromise a life so 
 dear to me ; and the idea that, by a word, I might give 
 a fatal blow to this worthy old gentleman, deprived me 
 of the strength and courage requisite to unfold my sen- 
 timents. Assuredly, with more faith I should have 
 overcome every obstacle ; but in the state in which I 
 then was, I could only sigh and groan in secret. During 
 
308 CONVERSION OF 
 
 these seasons of inward struggle and conflict, my sighs 
 rose continually to the God who had called me ; I con- 
 jured him to come to my aid and to open the way 
 before me. 
 
 Acknowledge how attentive the God of compassion 
 was to my cry, and how he listened to the voice of my 
 supplication. My uncle was in the habit of reading the 
 public journals aloud after dinner. One day, when I 
 was seated at my customary place opposite to him, in a 
 state of indescribable depression, I heard him reading 
 a notice from a Hamburg journal, which ran thus : " We 
 have just been witnesses of an interesting fact : a rabbi, 
 after having publicly announced in the synagogue, that 
 an attentive examination of the prophecies had given 
 him a clear conviction that the true Messiah had come, 
 has publicly confessed the Christian faith in our city, and 
 been received as a minister of the Gospel of Christ." 
 Whereupon my uncle added these words, which my posi- 
 tion rendered so remarkable : " You know my way of 
 thinking : if this man has acted thus from any interested 
 motive whatever, he deserves contempt ; if it is through 
 conviction, he has a claim to respect." 
 
 Christians ! who happily compassionate the lively 
 emotions of the heart of a fellow-being, I will not 
 attempt to describe to you all that passed in mine at this 
 solemn moment ! In a transport of joy, I replied, " Yes, 
 uncle, God has given you these sentiments : know th 
 
DR. CAPADOSB. 309 
 
 he whom you love with paternal tenderness, and whom 
 you call by the name of son, is in the same position as 
 this rabbi !" 
 
 I pronounced these words with such a tone of voice, 
 and with so much agitation, that my poor uncle, speech- 
 less and alarmed, thought me deranged ; and going out 
 for a moment, as if to allow me time to return to myself, 
 he re-entered and spoke of other matters. But my mind 
 was too much absorbed and excited to listen to what he 
 said : I was occupied with the God of my deliverance ; 
 for, on this occasion, I had felt him to be near. It was 
 the presence of the Adonai (God) of my fathers that 
 sustained me, and who from that day afforded my soul a 
 consolation it had never experienced, a joy and energy 
 it had never known. 
 
 Nevertheless, I saw clearly that my uncle, although 
 troubled by this scene, had not attributed to my words 
 the importance they merited. I resolved, then, in God's 
 strength, to reiterate my declaration on the morrow. 
 We were alone at the table, according to custom ; my 
 uncle appeared somewhat preoccupied ; he was, notwith- 
 standing, on very good terms with me. After dinner I 
 began, but this time with calmness and decision, by say- 
 ing, I remarked, with regret, that my avowal of the pre- 
 ceding evening had not been clearly understood, which 
 laid me under the obligation to repeat it, as if in God's 
 
310 CONVERSION OF 
 
 presence, with the hope that he himself would one day- 
 acknowledge the truth. 
 
 There was no longer any possibility of illusion, and 
 a most trying scene followed. He beat his breast 
 cursed his existence, and cried out, in the bitterness of 
 his soul, that I was bringing down his gray hairs with 
 sorrow to the grave. These reproaches pierced my heart ; 
 but the Lord strengthened, consoled, and gave me grace 
 to show this dear, venerable old gentleman, marks of 
 love and tenderness, which calmed him a little. The 
 next day he communicated all to my parents, and it ap- 
 peared that there was an understanding between them to 
 treat me with tenderness. Who could tell, but that, by 
 carefully avoiding all conversation upon this topic, these 
 ideas might pass away ? Nevertheless, my family were 
 not slow to perceive that this was impossible ; I began 
 even to embolden myself, sometimes preaching the 
 Gospel to them ; and whenever occasion offered, I no 
 longer dissembled my sentiments. 
 
 My intimate friend, who had lost his father some 
 months previous, enjoying more liberty, was at this time 
 a great source of consolation to me. At last, my uncle, 
 seeing that mildness did not succeed in effacing my reli- 
 gious convictions, and fearing still more the open mani- 
 festation of my faith, had recourse to other means, which 
 led, I owever, to results opposite to his expectation. 
 
DR. CAPADOSE. 311 
 
 There was not a sarcasm, humiliation, contempt, or 
 severity even, that I had not to endure from him. 
 
 I do not complain of these trials ; on the contrary, 
 I ought to consider this treatment, severe and painful to 
 the flesh, in the light of real blessings from God, since 
 it confirmed my faith, and was to me a new testimony 
 of the truth of the Gospel, the open and full confession 
 of which has ever been attended with every kind of per- 
 secution. 
 
 My family, also, were not in the least appeased, see- 
 ing me persevere in my resolution in spite of all that had 
 been attempted to divert me from it, and the severity 
 practised towards me went on increasing. This was the 
 period of severest trial to my soul. Earely did I meet 
 with one of my relations, whether at my uncle's house, 
 or in that of my parents, without enduring painful re- 
 proaches from them. 
 
 It may be conceived that this state of things could 
 not last, and but strengthened my ardent desire to con- 
 fess my Saviour. We were already the subject of public 
 conversation. Very many of our habits were altered ; 
 we no longer frequented the same society, and were very 
 seldom seen participating in the pleasures of our friends. 
 The cause was at length suspected, and called forth ex- 
 pressions of grief and regret on the part of our nation. 
 They set some value upon us : we were favourably 
 known, and to national pride was added the flattery of 
 
312 CONVERSION OF 
 
 the idea that I possessed, as a religious companion, such 
 a man as my friend, who, though young, had superior 
 talents, and was versed in many sciences ; above all, was 
 a poet, whose effusions, at that time published, had been 
 received with universal applause. 
 
 I will not pass over in silence an interesting inter- 
 view that we had about this time with a respectable 
 Rabbi, a man of fasting and prayer, emaciated by hard 
 diet, and esteemed for piety by the whole Jewish nation. 
 He desired an interview, and gave us calmly some written 
 objections. It was not difficult to refute them. Per- 
 ceiving that his arguments did not persuade us, he 
 attempted an appeal to our feelings. " Gentlemen," 
 said he, rising up with solemnity, " in a few days all of 
 our religion, in every quarter of the globe, will put on 
 sackcloth and ashes, to celebrate the great day of propi- 
 tiation. Then every Israelite, who humbleth himself 
 before our God, sincerely confessing his sins, is sure to 
 obtain grace. I conjure you, gentlemen, to reflect 
 seriously upon it ; and if, as Israelites, you humble your- 
 selves with remorse for the design you have dared to 
 form, you will be pardoned by our God." We were 
 touched, vividly touched, by his zeal ; but we reminded 
 him, that, at any rate, the blood of the Messiah alone 
 could wash us from all sin. 
 
 As he was on the point of departing, he added these 
 remarkable words : " Well, gentlemen, I have acted in 
 
DR. CAPADOSE. 313 
 
 accordance with the command of duty ; now that we are 
 about to separate, apparently never to meet again, I 
 cannot conceal from you that I thank God for permit- 
 ting me to find, even in our day, persons who believe the 
 Bible." We then separated, not without emotion on 
 \ both sides". 
 
 At length the moment of final decision had arrived ; 
 I could defer no longer. My friend, whose position was 
 very different from mine, and who had met with hardly 
 any opposition, his father dying before our secret trans- 
 pired, desired to wait some time longer ; but my decision 
 was taken ; he joined me, and I acquainted my family 
 with my resolution. 
 
 They wished that I would postpone it, or at least 
 that I would go into Germany, or elsewhere. Perhaps 
 I might have yielded to this wish, but the fear of any 
 appearance of shame in the step I was about to take, 
 led me to reject every proposition of the kind ; only we 
 promised not to join any church in the city where our 
 families resided, and, as it were, in the face of our uncle, 
 who was chief of a commission charged by the king to 
 take care of the interests of the Jews of Holland. 
 
 Our choice naturally fell on the city of Leyden, 
 which had such sweet recollections in our hearts, and 
 where that dear and excellent professor dwelt, with his 
 worthy spouse, whose writings and conversation had 
 exercised so marked an influence over our minds. We 
 
 4 
 
 27 
 
 
314 CONVERSION OF 
 
 set out for Leyden in September my friend, his inter- 
 esting wife, who partook our convictions at heart, and 
 myself. We were received with open arms, and an affec- 
 tion truly parental, by these worthy friends, who had 
 taken so much interest in our conflicts. Who more 
 deserving than they to participate in the celestial joy 
 that flooded our hearts ? 
 
 The 20th of October, 1822, was the day so ardently 
 longed for, when we were solemnly received as members 
 of the Christian church ; there, on our knees, before the 
 God of our fathers, the true God, the Father, Son, and 
 Holy Spirit, we had the ineffable happiness, we, un- 
 worthy, miserable sinners, to confess, in the midst of the 
 Christian church, the blessed name of that great God 
 and Saviour who had sought us when lost. Glory be to 
 his holy name ! 
 
 The text selected by the pastor, as the subject of his 
 discourse, was Romans, xi. 5 : " Even so then at this pre- 
 sent time also there is a remnant according to the elec- 
 tion of grace." Election of grace I This is the conclu- 
 sion of what you have just read ; it is an abridgment of 
 the history of my conversion; it is that of all other 
 gratuitous grace ; grace that conducts, grace that illu- 
 mines, grace that enables one to suffer for the name of 
 the Lord, grace that consoles, grace that draws to Christ, 
 grace that gives faith, grace that justifies, grace that 
 regenerates, that sanctifies ; finally, grace for grace, and 
 
DR. CAPADOSE. 315 
 
 to the glory of God, whose free and gratuitous election, 
 made before the foundation of the world, is the only 
 source and principle of all grace, of all felicity. 
 
 The day previous to our public entrance into the 
 Christian Church, we took leave of the synagogue by 
 letter. I addressed to the magistrates of the Portu- 
 guese Jewish nation a letter, in which, while authorizing 
 them to consider me as no longer a meinber of the syna- 
 gogue, I protested that I remained an Israelite, but an 
 Israelite who had found his Messiah, and who ceased 
 not to offer the sincerest wishes that his brethren accord- 
 ing to the flesh might speedily return to the Lord their 
 Grod, and to David their king. 
 
 A few days after my public renunciation of Judaism, 
 I received a letter from my uncle, in which he announced 
 to me, that, after what had passed and some new arrange- 
 ments made in his household, / could not, on my return 
 to Amsterdam, dwell under his roof ; that he did not 
 forbid my visiting him, but this was only under the ex- 
 press condition that I should never speak to him of my 
 sentiments. On my return to Amsterdam I hired a 
 small apartment on a third floor, where, alone with my 
 God, I experienced a heavenly joy and peace that passed 
 all understanding. 
 
 My dear brother, with whom I often conversed on the 
 subject nearest my heart, and who weighed the considera- 
 tions I urged with great seriousness, at length fell sick, 
 
316 CONVERSION OF 
 
 and died suddenly, crying to me in a strong voice, and 
 with great earnestness, " Call, call my mother ; call my 
 sister ; I am dying but I believe in (rod the Father, the 
 Son 7 and the Holy Spirit. I believe in Jesus Christ, my 
 Saviour. He is Master King of Icings. All must come 
 to Mm. Europe, Asia, Africa, and America belong to 
 him. He must reign over the whole earth. Announce 
 in the synagogue that I die in his name." 
 
 If, by Divine direction, these lines should fall into 
 the hands of any of the children of Abraham, but who 
 have not Abraham's faith of those Israelites, my 
 dearly beloved brethren according to the flesh, who are 
 now poor, but with the riches of the Divine word in 
 their hands ; miserable, but having the blood of the 
 prophets in their veins ; despised and wandering over 
 the whole earth, but with the promise of eternal glory, 
 if they should be converted; may these lines remind 
 them that this word, these promises, this blood of the 
 prophets, urge them to examine attentively what these 
 prophets have spoken, and by whom their promises must 
 have their accomplishment for them of whom this word 
 is full. 
 
 Yes, may they speedily, by God's grace, acknowledge 
 that this precious Bible, which they preserve, and upon 
 which their faith as well as our own is founded, contains 
 prophetically the entire history of the Messiah; his 
 origin, his nature, his birth, his life, his death, his resur- 
 
DK. CAPADOSB. 317 
 
 rection and ascension to the right hand of Grod his 
 heavenly Father; his spiritual reign; his return to 
 glory; finally his reign as KING OF ISRAEL, PRIEST, 
 AND PROPHET. 
 
 Behold what I have been taught by my researches 
 in the word of God. May these lines excite in them 
 also the desire to seek after the truth ! They will see 
 that the Messiah promised to our fathers, must have been 
 the only begotten Son of God, God eternal, one with the 
 Father and Holy Spirit, according to the Scriptures ; 
 for He is called "God" and the "Son of God," by 
 David: Ps. xlv. 6; Ps. ex. 1; by Isaiah, "Wonderful 
 Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the 
 Prince of Peace:" Isaiah ix. 6; by Jeremiah, "The 
 Lord our Righteousness :" Jer. xxiii. 6 ; by Malachi, 
 " the Lord :" Mai. iii. 1 ; that this Messiah was to take 
 our nature, and be born of a virgin, according to the 
 Scriptures ; for He is called the Seed of the Woman : 
 Gen. iii. 15; "the child of a virgin:" Isaiah vii. 14; 
 that this Messiah was to be the descendant of Abraham, 
 Isaac, and Jacob, according to the Scriptures, for He is 
 called "the Seed of Abraham :" Gen. xxii. 18 ; that He 
 was to be of the tribe of Judah and of the house of 
 David, according to the Scriptures ; for He is called " a 
 Rod from the stem of Jesse:" Isaiah, xi. 1; "out of 
 David a righteous Branch :" Jer. xxiii. 5 ; that He was 
 to be born in "Bethlehem:" Mic. v. 2; that at that 
 27* 
 
318 CONVERSION OF 
 
 time "the sceptre should be taken from Judah:"' Gen. 
 xlix. 10; that the Messiah should have Elias for his 
 precursor, " preaching in the wilderness and preparing 
 the way," according to the Scriptures: Isaiah, xl. 3, 
 Mai. iii. 1 ; that the Messiah should accompany his 
 preaching with many miracles : Isaiah, xxxv. 5, 6 ; that 
 He should " enter Jerusalem upon an ass :" Zech. ix. 9 ; 
 that He should appear poor and humble, "having no 
 form nor comeliness, the despised and rejected of men :" 
 Isaiah, liii. 2, 3 ; that one of His disciples should " betray 
 Him:" Ps. xli. 9; that He should be sold for "thirty 
 pieces of silver:" Zech. xi. 12; that He should be 
 " smitten with rods, reviled, spit upon :" Isaiah, 1. 6 ; 
 that He should be "numbered with the transgressors:" 
 Isaiah, liii. 12 ; " smitten, and afflicted of God :" Isaiah, 
 liii. 4 ; but that these sufferings should be upon Him 
 " for our transgressions :" Isaiah, liii. 5 ; that He should 
 be "crucified :" Deut. xxi. 23 ; that they should " pierce 
 his hands and his feet:" Ps. xxii. 16; that He should 
 be "reviled, even on the cross," and made to drink "gall 
 and vinegar:" Ps. xxii. 7, Ixix. 21; that they should 
 " divide his garments among them, and for his vesture 
 cast lots:" Ps. xxii. 18; that "not a bone of Him 
 should be broken :" Exod. xii. 46, xxxiv. 20 ; that his 
 death should be violent: Isaiah, liii. 8; Dan. ix. 26; 
 that He should " make his grave with the wicked, and 
 be with the rich in his death :" Isaiah, liii. 9; that He 
 
DR. CAPADOSE. 319 
 
 should "not see corruption:" Ps. xvi. 10; but that on 
 "the third day" He should "rise again:" Isaiah, liii. 
 10 ; Jonah, i. 17 ; that He should " ascend into heaven, 
 and sit down at the right hand of the Father:" Ps. 
 Ixviii. 18 ; and that thence He should " send his Holy 
 Spirit:" Joel, ii. 28. 
 
 When you have thus united all these features of the 
 promised Messiah, which the Almighty has traced so 
 clearly, so distinctly, to the very minutest details, that 
 Israel should not be deceived by any false Messiah; 
 when you have placed before you, as it were, face to 
 face, the image of Him upon whom your salvation rests, 
 open, my dear brethren in the flesh, open the New 
 Testament, praying God to enable you to examine its 
 contents with a sincere desire to know the truth, and 
 the glorious light of the God of truth will lead you to 
 acknowledge, with adoration, that all these characterizing 
 features of the true Messiah are to be found, with the 
 most scrupulous exactness, in the person, the life, and 
 death of Jesus Christ, that Saviour blessed for evermore, 
 who will soon come in glory with his holy angels. Then 
 Jerusalem shall be to Him a name of rejoicing, of praise 
 and glory among all the nations of the earth, who shall 
 hear the good that He will do to Israel ; for, " I will 
 cause the captivity of Judah, and the captivity of Israel, 
 to return," saith the Lord, "and I will build them as 
 at the first. And I will cleanse them from all their 
 
320 CONVERSION OF DR. CAPADOSE. 
 
 iniquity, whereby they have sinned against me ; and I 
 will pardon all their iniquities whereby they have sinned, 
 and whereby they have transgressed against me :" Jer. 
 xxxiii. 7, 8. 
 
 "And I saw thrones, and they sat upon them, and 
 judgment was given them : and I saw the souls of them 
 that were beheaded for; the witness of Jesus, and for the 
 word of God, and which had not worshipped the beast, 
 neither his image, neither had received his mark upon 
 their foreheads or in their hands ; and they lived and 
 reigned with Christ a thousand years. But the rest of 
 the dead lived not again until the thousand years were 
 finished. This is the first resurrection. Blessed and 
 holy is he that hath part in the first resurrection : on 
 such the second death hath no power ; but they shall be 
 priests of God and of Christ, and shall reign with him 
 a thousand years :" Apocal. xx. 4-6. 
 
 " And the Spirit and the Bride say, Come. And let 
 him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst 
 come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of 
 life freely :" Apocalypse, xxii. 17. Amen ! 
 
 THE END. 
 
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 THE 
 
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