OBITUARY. MRS, ANN PARKER, OF ST. JOHN'S, NEWFOUNDLAND. [Extracted from a Letter to a Gentleman in England, who has been a particu lar Friend to the Ministers and serious People in that Place.] • REV. SIR, HE subject of the following lines is Ann Parker, late wife of Nathan Parker, must deacon of this church, and who has been to me a faith: ul and ju dícious friend, and fellow-sufferer in all my reproaches for Christ, from the commencement of my public warfare to the present day. Mrs. Parker was a native of this place. Her mother came from Scotland, where she had been piously educated; and though she lived many years in this country, she did not altogether lose her early impressions. She died when her daughter was about six years of age, having sowed in her mind that seed, which God graciously designed should afterward sprin up, and bear fruit to eternal life; for no sooner were the glad tidings of the Gospel sounded in her ears, than her heart was opened to receive Christ, and welcome his first approach. Some other natives of the country I likewise found, in whose hearts God had secretly wrought the same favourable disposition, which led me to conclude he has his hidden ones, even in places the most unlikely. In the year 1777 she gave herself up to the Lord, no doubt in a perpetual covenant. Being fixed on the rock of ages, she stood firmly against all opposition from her father, who, through grace, is now become a friend, and from her young companions, who bitterly derided her; our Society, at that time, being held in the greatest contempt, and subject to much persecution. On-the 18th of January last, she was seized with a nervous fever. During her illness I constantly visited her, and was always well paid for my attendance, Her tender expressions of regard to me, her deep humility, her unshaken confidence, and her ardent desire to be absent from the body, and present with the Lord, were as so many lively coals from off the altar to inflame my soul with love and zeal. From the first of her sickness she seemed to be persuaded it would terminate in her dissolution; nor did she like any intimation to the contrary. One day I was conversing with her on the free grace and unchangeable love of God: "O yes, yes," says she, "it is all free and everlasting! I see it so now more than ever; if it had not been so, I should not be what I am." She then exclaimed, "O the pleasing disappointment! Ever since I gave myself to the Lord, I strove to keep my heart sincere before him, but always thought it was not as it ought to be; rather feared the Lord would expose my deceit, and that when death came, fearfulness and trembling would lay hold on me." Now death is come; but lo! he is a welcome me senger The Lord smiles and shines upon my soul; he assures me that I am his, and that I shall be with him soon, O! to grace how great a debtor!" be so. About the middle of her sickness, flattering symptoms made us hope the Lord would be gracious to us by restoring her; and we prayed for her recovery. She strongly opposed the idea for some time; at length she said, "Well, it may The Lord can do with me what he pleases. I am in his hands. I wish his will to be my will." The fever soon returned. "Ah!" said she, you have led me astray. My affections have taken the advantage. They are gone further from Christ, and more after you than they ought. Now let me alone; I will return to my God." "Jesu, lover of my soul," was her favourite theine. This hymn she frequently sung till her husband, fearing that such exertion might be hurtful to Her body, wished her to forbear. She complied with his request, saving, "Well, I shall soon sing of the love of Christ without hurt or interruption." About three days before her departure her mind was deranged, during which she frequently sung her favourite hymns; and, amidst her greatest wanderings, not pot a sinful expression dropped from her lips. But she had many lucid intervals and then her language was both refreshing and instructive. At one of these seasons her husband and I were sitting at the bed-side; she was then in a comfortable frame of mind: "My dear," said she, addressing herself to him, “[ can freely resign you and the children to the Lord. You have been a good husband to me, and a tender father to them. Now am going to Christ, I am not afraid to trust them with you. If you marry agam, I am persuaded the Lord will direct you to a proper companion. if I am permitted, I will come, and Jook, and smile upon you, and say, "God bless you!" Before she expired, while she was perfectly sound in her mind, she called her three eldest children to the bed-side, and, in the most solemn manner, charged them to live and walk in the fear of God, describing to them the happy effects of a life of godliness, and the awful consequence of not meeting her and their father at the right hand of Christ, especially as his instruction had been so good, and his example se proper. Early in the morning of the 25th of March, I was called up to go and see her once more before she died. When I arrived she was speechless, but sensible, as her conduct indicated while I was at prayer. Very soon after we arose from our knees, she gently drew her last breath; ending, with holy triumph and joy, a life, as far as mortal eye could penetrate, of the greatest circumspection and humility; leaving behind her a loving husband and seven fine children, whose loss is greater than I can describe. When the coffin was about to be closed, the scene was truly affecting. Brother Parker, surrounded by his children, said to them, "Come, my children, and let us take the last farewel of your dear mother." Before she was carried out to the place of interment we sung, "Jesu, lover of my soul." The Lord was with us during the singing, exhortation, and prayer; I felt much of his presence and power myself, and so did many others who were assembled on the solemn occasion. A CHILD ABOUT ELEVEN YEARS OF AGE. I MAKE no apology for transmitting to you the following memoirs of the death of a darling child, who died, at Plymouth, January 30, 1797, that it may have a place in the Obituary of the Evangelical Magazine, conceiving as I do, that the relation of so illustrious an instance of the triumphs of grace hath an intimate correspondence with the chief object of that work, and is eminently calculated to promote the glory of God. Indeed, whether from a personal knowledge of the event, the impression it hath made upon my mind is in stronger characters than otherwise it might have operated, I know not; but according to my present apprehension, I venture to believe, that a more striking proof of the gracious dealings of God with his people hath not occurred in those latter ages, 66 upon whom the ends of the world are come." To diffuse the knowledge of it, therefore, as extensively as possible, is both a duty and a delight: and it is with this view, I confess, that I have wished to make your Magazine the medium of conveyance for spreading it through the religious world. I am very confident, the prayers of all the faithful, as far as the ins formation of it shall reach, wil be lifted up, that the divine grace may acCompany wheresoever the divine providence shall cause it to come; that in every perusal, it may awaken the tribute of praise to the great Author of such distinguished mercy, and from the uttermost part of the earth may be heard songs upon this occasion, even glory to the righteous. This sweet child (who is the subject of my letter) had only attained to her eleventh year, when she was summoned away. And her departure from this Tower world was so sudden, and unexpected, that, like a bird of passage, she had but just time to plume herself, and lift the wing, before she took her flight into the regions of eternity. I have not been able to discover, whether any earlier manifestations of the life of grace in the soul had appeared in her conversa tion tion prior to her last illness. From other circumstances, I rather think not, But during this short period, the day-dawn and the day-star, which arose in hes heart, burst forth into such brilliancy of lustre, and blazed with a light so powerful, as to astonish every beholder. Nothing can afford a more decisive evidence than her history, that every thing of seriousness in her was intuitive as to human instruction, and wholly of divine teaching: "This also cometh forth from the Lord, who is wonderful in counsel, and excellent in working." The evening preceding her seizure by the disorder which proved fatal, was remarked how exceedingly she dwelt upon a verse of some poetry she had learned at school. I mention this circumstance the rather as a proof that a mind, under the gracious teaching of the Holy Spirit, is sometimes enabled to extract good out of evil. The words of the song I know not; but what engaged her attention, and employed her thoughts, was the finishing verse of it .......... Dear maid adieu, My sorrows soon shall cease; For heav'n will take a mind so true She sung this stanza so frequent, to an air so plaintive, and with such me Jody of expression, that her mother who had heard her, though at that time unconscious of the event about to follow, intreated her to drop a subjećt se melancholy, for she could not bear it. During the paroxisms of her disorder, she gave vent to the feelings of her mind, by singing; though the burden of what she sung could not be understood. Once particularly, at a midnight hour, she did it with an effect perfectly undescribable. Her voice, which was naturally sweet and melodious, seemed to have acquired, from her stuation, a certain pathos most peculiarly tender and affecting; which, that the whole energy might, as it were, be felt, her melody closed in a groan of the deepest and most piercing nature. But what I am chiefly interested to describe, is the manifestation of the divine grace, which appeared in her whole deportment. It was abun dantly evident, from every circumstance, that her mind laboured under Some very strong impressions of distress. In the early stage of her disease, she was constantly speaking of the horrors which she felt: But from a reluctance to increase her misery, all questions leading to an inquiry into the gause were at that time cautiously avoided. At this season information was first brought me of this child's illness, accompanied with an account, that she had expressed an earnest wish to be remembered in my prayers. I thought a request of such a nature, coming from one so young, seemed to imply the assurance that it must have originated in an higher appointment, and as such, afford a promising presa e that it would come up with a prevailing efficacy, through the great Redeemer's intercession, before the throne of grace. Conceiving that I ought not to confine so interesting a subject to my own prayers alone, but engage the supplications of the congregation to which I belong on her behalf, I availed myself of the occasion; and on the following Lord's day, at my evening lecture, requested, "That the prayers of God's people might be offered up for a sick child, on whom there seemed to appear strong marks of grace." This circumstance being communicated to the child the following morning, the joy she expressed upon the occasion was extraordinary. It dwelt upon her mind continually, and she mentioned it to several of her friends which came to see her in terms of great pleasure, To her mother, particularly, she expressed herself in these words: "I have been prayed for in the church, and I am told that there were five or six hundred persons present; and if but five of them were real Christians before God, you know their prayers must be heard. Now I shall be relieved from the horrors." Finding her spirits so cheerful, her mother now ventured to ask her what those horrors were which she had so often complained of. To which she immediately replied, “The fear of God, and the future judgment, and not the fear of death." Her Her consciousness of human transgressions before God was exceedingly femarkable in one so young. Indeed, she had so frequently lamented her sins, and what she had done to offend God, that her mother imagined, there' must have been some more than ordinary offence which she had committed, which preyed upon her mind. Hoping that the communication of it might relieve her, she took occasion one day, as she sat by her bedside, to press her to unbosom herself upon the subject. "My dear," said her mother, "if there be any thing that you have done which burthens your mind, pray inform me of it, now there is no one present but ourselves." Her answer was, 6. I know of nothing in particular, my dear mother, by which I have offended God; but I am sure I have greatly sinned against him, or he would never have afflicted a poor child as I am afflicted." And that the sense and weight of sin lay heavy upon her mind is strikingly evident, from a question which one day, in the most unexpected manner, she put to the medical gentleman that attended her, when nothing in the conversation had the least reference to the subject. "Do you know, Sir," says she, that I have a soul to be saved? And she said this with such an earnestness of expression, as struck every one around her with astonishment. I have no doubt in my own mind, but that it was from very strong prepossessions of this nature, that she so frequently made it a matter of request to her friends to pray for her. Her expressions on this occasion were exceedingly remarkable. Pray for me," says she," to my Saviour, that he may intercede for me with the Father. Of that I had but three minutes' ease to pray myself: if but three minutes," says she, repeating the words, "that I might pray properly." The reader will do well to remark the most extraordinary instance of this child's apprehension of the intercessorship of Christ. From whence, or by what means, she had acquired this knowledge, I have no conception; but the exercise of such a prin ciple of grace in a season so interesting and critical, and by such a child, is ant object peculiarly meriting the regard, and fit to call up the adoration of God in the breast of all the faithful. 46 The rapid advance of her disorder, and the hasty steps which the messenger of death made towards her, from the first moment of her seizure, to the finat convulsions of nature, when she fell to rise no more, were such as to afford bus little opportunity for making observations on the progress of grace in the heart, which a case less oppressed with disease, in an instance like her's, would otherwise have furnished. The pleasing presage of her departure to an hap py eternity is more to be gathered from the detached views of her conduct is her illness, than from any regular tracings of the operations of Divine love in her heart. That she felt and confessed the burden of sin; that she had lively views of mercy through the righteousness of a Saviour; that she wished to eek this mercy, by prayer through Christ; and desired to interest every.one to pray for her; all these circumstances are abundantly evident from what hath been related. And it should be added, that her mind had acquired a cer tain confidence and hope in the Divine mercy, is a reasonable conclusion from several expressions which dropped from her occasionally, and particularly towards the close of life. She comforted her mother in the prospect of her departure with the consolation, that by death she should escape a thousand evils; and once, in a very expressive manner, said, "I long to see God's face;" so that, upon the whole, I venture to abide, by my original idea, that a more striking proof of the gracious dealings of God with his people, and particularly in so youthful an instance, hath not occurred in these later ages of his church It may not perhaps carry equal conviction to every mind; but great regard should be had to the disadvantages of situation under which it was found, as well as to the want of the means of grace in the time prior to her illness. For my own part, I hesitate not to believe, that what the prophet says of the church in Gospel days, at the first dawn of the morning, may, by a parity of reasoning, with equal truth be said of the experience of the believer in a similar situation: "In that day the light shall not be clear nor dark, but it shall be one day, which shall be known to the Lord; not day nor night, but i shall come to pass that at evening toe it shall be light." Zech. xiv, 6, 7. must I must not trespass further. Instructive and highly interesting as the subject is for raising reflections of the most pious nature, I rather retreat in si lence, to leave every reader to the comments of his own heart upon the occasion under divine awakenings, than add a single observation of my own. I. hope in God, indeed, that the perusal, through his grace resting upon it, whọ alone can commission it to improvement, will in no instance prove barren or anfruitful. The affectionate parent, in particular, will find a volume of . the most persuasive arguments, in the short page of this child's history, to awaken attention to the everlasting concerns of her household. There is no thing, I am most awfully convinced, can reconcile the breaches made in our families by death, but the pleasing hope that our departed children, or friends, . are asleep in Christ. When God is pleased to make such an incursion in our houses, and death enters in at the window, the mind is consoled in viewing. the vacant place, and the unfilled seat at the table, if Faith affords a wellgrounded assurance that the dear departed object, though “absent from the body, is present with the Lord and is sitting down with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdon of heaven." ut what an accumulation of woe must every instance of a contrary effect induce in a tender breast, concerning the everlasting fate of our children, where the strongest probabilities exist that the departure is in an unprepared state, unawakened by grace, unwashed in the blood of Jesus, unregenerated by the Holy Ghost! The bitter exclamations of Job on his birth, awful and expressive as they are, are not half enough expressive of the real state of such a case. The portrait, though highly coloured, is paleness indeed to the original (see Job, iii.). Happy that parent, who, on committing the ashes of a beloved child to the humiliation of the grave, can answer the anxious question of the soul's eternal welfare in the Language of the Shunamite, “Is it well with the child ?” And she said, “ Ii is well." I am, Rev. Sir, your's, &c. MR. JOSIAH PRATT. MARCH 5, at Birmingham, in his 64 year, Mr. Josiah Pratt. He died, as he lived, an eminent example of the power of genuine Christianity, and witness of the truth of that "faith which is the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen." This faith enabled him, through a long life of great bodily weakness, during which he laboured under frequent attacks of severe and sharp affliction, to maintain the regular discharge of every public and private duty becoming a Christian with an uniformity and consistency of conduct which will never be forgotten by those who were faYoured with his friendship. REV. MR. MERCHANT. ON Wednesday, the 8th of March, 1797, died, at Shaftsbury, Dorsetshire; the Rev. Mr. Merchant, Independent Minister of that place. He was a learn ed and pious man, and of a catholic benevolent spirit. We have requested friend to collect some memoirs of him, and doubt not but they will be both pleas→ ing and instru@live. On Thursday, the 1st of March, died, the Rev. Mr. Aldridge, minister of Jewry-street chapel. |