AMELIA BROWN, _Luton_. A Minister. Wife of Richard Marks B

Transcribed from the 1850 C. Gilpin, R. Y. Clarke, and Co. edition by

David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org

NEW SERIES, No 9.

THE ANNUAL MONITOR FOR 1851.

OR

OBITUARY

OF THE

MEMBERS OF THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS

In Great Britain and Ireland,

FOR THE YEAR 1850.

LONDON:

SOLD BY C. GILPIN, R. Y. CLARKE, AND CO., DARTON AND CO.,

AND E. MARSH: GEORGE HOPE, YORK.

1850.

INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.

We have again to present to our friends the Report of the Annual

Mortality in the Society of Friends, in Great Britain and Ireland. It

has frequently been observed, how nearly the number of deaths in each

year has approximated, but we have this year to notice a considerable

diminution in the annual return. We are not disposed, however, to

attribute the diminished numbers, chiefly to any special cause connected

with health, but consider it rather as one of those fluctuations which

are ever found to arise in a series of years, in the mortality of a small

community. The number of the dying, however, may be expected to bear, as

respects the average, a pretty uniform relation to the number of the

living. And if the fact be, as all our late inquiries lead us to believe

it is, that we are, though slowly, a diminishing body, we must expect

that our average number of deaths will also be found gradually to

diminish.

We have often anxiously pondered over the question,--Why the Society of

Friends should be a diminishing body? And we propose to give in this

place a few of the thoughts which have been suggested to us in the course

of our consideration.

In the first place, let us notice the natural causes which tend to the

decrease of our Society. We have formerly shown that the mortality among

our members is less than in the community at large, which so far as it

extends, is of course a reason for the increase rather than the

diminution of our numbers. But then we have, on the other side, the well-

ascertained fact, that whilst in the community at large, the registered

births exceed the deaths, by 45 per cent; in the Society of Friends, the

registered deaths actually exceed the births! The cause of this fact is

to be found, not only in connection with the number who marry out of the

Society, but also in the operation of that prudential check on entering

into the married state, which will always prevail amongst a moral people,

where the means of subsistence cannot easily and with certainty be

obtained. But to whatever we may attribute the cause, the fact itself is

a complete answer to the question--Why we are a diminishing rather than

an increasing people?

It may be said,--Why are not our religious principles aggressive?--Why,

if they be true, do they not find converts among the various Christian

communities of our land?--Why, as in the early times of our Society, are

there not numerous conversions, and fresh bodies of warm-hearted, and

sound-minded believers, added to our numbers?--These are deeply important

and very interesting questions, and we are willing to offer a few

thoughts upon them, with the seriousness and modesty with which it

becomes us to speak on the subject.

We believe, that a mistaken view prevails, in regard to the truest

Christian principle being that which will be accepted by the largest

number of persons. The experience of all the past ages of the Church

contradicts the assumption, and shows clearly that there is in man a deep-

seated opposition to the acceptance of divine truth in its purity and

simplicity. True vital religion has ever called for the service of man's

heart to God, and in every age, this allegiance has been the state of the

_few_, rather than of the _many_. The history of the ancient church is

full of illustrations of this truth. Whilst Moses lingered on the Mount,

whence the children of Israel knew that the law was to be given, and from

whence such evident demonstrations of the divine power had been manifest

to the people, they were employed in making the golden calf to go before

them, and crying "these are thy Gods, O Israel!" And when they had

received the law, written by the finger of God, and were somewhat humbled

under the correction of their sins, how few were there, who carried out

its injunctions in their genuine spirit, and how many were there, who

from time to time, defiled themselves by the idolatrous service of other

gods. Even when brought by a strong hand, and an outstretched arm,

attended by many palpable miracles which were wrought on their behalf,

they were seated in the "Land flowing with milk and honey," which had

been promised to their fathers; how prone were they constantly to desert

even the profession of their faith, and to serve the gods of the nations

which they were sent to destroy; yet in all these times there were a few,

and it was probably comparatively but a _few_, who had not bowed the knee

to Baal.

We have evidence of the same fact in the history of Christianity. The

beautiful example of the Saviour, and the wonderful miracles which he

performed--all for the good of man--failed to attract the high boasted

reason of the Greek, or the Roman, or to soften the obduracy of the blind

and hard Pharisaic hearted Jew: it was still the _few_ who had sympathy

with the character He exhibited, and the truths which He spoke, and who

found Him to be to their souls "the power of God unto salvation." And

even when these few were gathered together, and under the extraordinary

effusion of the Holy Spirit, many were added to them, and "the multitude

of them that believed were of one heart and one soul," they were still

comparatively but a _few_.

The further history of the Christian Church may appear to some to exhibit

a different view, but to us it seems not less clearly to illustrate the

same melancholy truth.

It is certain, that during the life-time of the Apostles, many by their

powerful preaching, under the influence of the Holy Spirit, were brought

to repentance and a living faith in Christ, and we know that not a few

sealed their testimony with their blood, yet the simplicity and the

purity of Christianity were soon more or less spoiled by the still

contracted spirit and notions of many of the Jews, or the false

philosophy, not entirely abandoned, of the pagan converts. We doubt not,

however, that notwithstanding these deteriorating admixtures, there may

be said to have been many--aye, a glorious multitude--who held the truth

in its primitive power, and in a large measure of primitive simplicity.

Still, when these are compared with the whole population of the countries

where the Truth was preached, the real converts must be spoken of as a

_few_, and thus was it evident that there was still an inherent

opposition in man to the restraining and purifying doctrines of the

gospel of Christ.

And when in later years, whole nations and peoples were said to become

Christians, it may well be doubted whether in such times there had not

been as great a reduction of the number of true converts of old standing,

as there was addition of this class amongst the new ones. Christianity

as professed in those days, had thrown off her simple garb, and had

decorated herself to please the corrupt taste of the people--as the sun

and other heavenly bodies were probably the earliest objects of adoration

to mankind, and were used in the first instance as striking symbols of

the light and power of the one Creator and Father, so did the professors

of Christianity, pretty early present to the people, some intermediate

objects of reverence and love, by which those who turned from the simple

affiance to the one Great Redeemer and High Priest, might find a rest

suited to their carnal, or at least imperfectly spiritual conception of

Christianity. And when the temporal church boasted of its universal sway

in Europe, and its entire unity, there were probably a smaller number of

true Christians within its pale, than existed in the midst of pagan

persecutions at the close of the apostolic age.

Let us now look at times nearer to our own, when Huss, and Luther, and

Zwingle, by a power not their own, caused many rays of the glorious light

of Truth to shine upon benighted nations, and disturbed the slumbers of

the corrupted church. Great were, and still are the blessings derived

from the great struggle. Many of the bonds of Satan were broken, and

many a heavy burdened soul found its long desired rest. Yet how soon was

even the brightness of this morning dimmed, and how little progress did

the cause of the Reformation make after the departure of the immediate

instruments in the great movement.

In Switzerland, not inaptly called the cradle of the English Reformation,

the Cantons which, in the first instance received the truth and joined

the Protestant cause, continue still to bear the same name, but not one

which at that time retained the designation of Catholic, has since become

Protestant: and at Geneva, where Calvin taught, and where his doctrines

are still professed, opinions which were not less abhorrent to him than

the worst of the errors of popery, are openly maintained. Those who now

preach the vital truths of the Reformation, are the _few_ not the _many_.

In England, the iron rule of Elizabeth in ecclesiastical matters, and in

particular her requirement of uniformity with respect to the "rags of

Rome," checked the real progress of the Reformation in the English

church, but by a reaction which in the ordering of Divine Wisdom, often

makes the wrath of man to praise him, it appears to have been the means

of raising up an increased antagonism to error, in the persons of men

willing to suffer and to die for the cause of truth. It will perhaps be

admitted that at many periods of the history of what is called the

English church, whilst its nominal members numbered a large proportion of

the whole population, the actual number of the genuine disciples of

Christ within its pale were in small compass. The revival in some

measure, of the spirit of its reformers, even in opposition to the letter

of many of its formularies, has, no doubt, in past times, done much to

increase its living influence and usefulness, but recent events have

shown how large a portion of its clergy instead of going forward in the

work of the Reformation, are rather desirous of retrograde movement, and

of approximating, if not of entirely returning to the errors of Rome.

Such, we ought ever to bear in mind, is the natural tendency of man, and

so prone is he, even when raised by the True Light to a perception of the

things which are most excellent, to sink again into the grovelling habits

of his own dark nature.

We come now to the threshold of our own religious history, and shall

endeavour to answer, in substance at least, the queries with which we

commenced the present inquiry. It was certainly an extraordinary period

of our national religious history, in which the Society of Friends

arose--a time in which old foundations were shaken, and an earnest

inquiry excited in many minds after the way of truth and of real peace to

the soul. We think that it is not assuming, to express our belief, that

a remarkable extension of spiritual light and energy was extended to the

people of England, in that day, when George Fox, and his early

associates, went forth through the length and breadth of the land, and

found so extraordinary a preparation for their service in the hearts of

their fellow-countrymen.

The first preachers knew a being made Christians themselves, before they

went forth to call others to Christ--what a deep sense of sin and of its

hatefulness in the sight of God--what earnestness, or rather agonizing in

prayer--what joy in the sense of the true knowledge of Christ, and of

communion with him in Spirit--what subsequent watchfulness and reliance

upon him in every step of their course--what zeal in making known the

truth which they had found, and what constancy in suffering for it, yea

thinking it all joy that they were counted worthy to suffer for the name

of Christ!--Such were the men who were heralds of our religious Society,

and by whose instrumentality thousands at least, were convinced of the

truth; large numbers of whom gave evidence that they were not only

convinced, but converted to God. Need we then wonder at their success?

though still compared with the numbers to which they preached, the

converts may be said to have been _few_. It was still the _many_, who if

brought to see as it were their face in a glass, went away and

straightway forgot what manner of men they were.

We believe that the number of persons who went under the name of Friends,

in Great Britain and Ireland, at the close of the 17th century, was at

least three times as great as it is at the present time.

It will be in accordance with our object, to endeavour to indicate what

may have been the chief causes of the suspension of those active measures

which we have called aggressive,--though full of love, and which marked

the early periods of our Society. An historian of the church, who was

not insensible of what constitutes true religious energy, has stated,

that extraordinary revivals of this kind, have rarely been maintained in

their primitive vigour more than about forty years. Rather more than

that time elapsed between the commencement of George Fox's labours and

their close, at the time of his death. About eight days previous to that

event, he attended a meeting of ministers, in London, and one of those

who was present says: "I much minded his exhortation to us, encouraging

friends that have gifts to make use of them; mentioning many countries

beyond the seas that wanted visiting, instancing the labours and hard

travels of friends in the beginning of the spreading of truth in our

days, in breaking up of countries, and of the rough ploughing they had in

steeple houses, &c., but that now it was more easy; and he complained,

that there were many Demases and Cains who embraced the present world,

and encumbered themselves with their own business, and neglected the

Lord's, and so were good for nothing; and he said, they that had wives,

should be as though they had none; and who goeth a warfare should not

entangle himself with the things of this world."

This characteristic extract will suggest, probably, to many readers, our

object in quoting it. If there was cause for the reproof conveyed in it

in that day, in which we know the primitive zeal still burned brightly,

what must we say of the subsequent, and of the present state of our

little church!

Long after the death of George Fox, there continued to be a large

increase to the numbers of friends; many who had been wise and great in

this world, were made to rejoice in the laying down of their outward

wisdom, and in sitting down in deep humility to learn of Jesus, by the

teaching of the Holy Spirit in the heart. These were prepared boldly to

declare God's controversy with sin, and the means by which it might be

subdued, not omitting to proclaim the alone ground of a sinner's pardon

through the propitiatory sacrifice of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

We believe certainly that it has never been permitted to our Society to

be without its faithful labourers in the gospel, or without many sincere

confessors of its doctrines, who, by life and conversation, have been

true preachers to their brethren, and to the world in general. Yet we

must confess, that whilst as a Society, we continue to profess the same

religious views as were held and promulgated by our early Friends, we

fear we do not come up in practice to that pure standard to which they

attained. The door is open to all the world, yet we sit at ease in our

ceiled houses. Many around us are hungering and thirsting for the

knowledge of God, yet we are occupied with our farms and our merchandise.

Let us not be inquiring, "What shall this man do," or what should the

other have done? but remembering the reproof, "What is that to thee,

follow _thou_ Me," submit ourselves to that humbling, but preparing hand,

which was so signally displayed in the cause of those who were engaged in

the planting and watering of our religious Society. Then might we again

hope to witness an increase of spiritual life and vigour in the body, and

thus become as "a city set upon a hill, that could not be hid."

THE ANNUAL MONITOR. OBITUARY.

Age. Time of Decease.

HANNAH ABBOTT, _Thorley_, _Essex_. 88 11mo. 19 1849

MARTHA ADY, _London_. 81 3mo. 23 1850

ELIZABETH AIREY, _Kendal_. Widow. 81 5mo. 6 1850

WILLIAM ALDERSON, _Winterscale_, _Garsdale_, _Yorkshire_. 69 5mo. 2 1850

REBECCA ALEXANDER, _Goldrood_, _Ipswich_. Widow of Samuel Alexander. 72

12mo. 13 1849

EDWARD ALEXANDER, _Limerick_. Son of the late Edward Alexander. 20 2mo.

1 1850

JOSEPH ALLEN, _Dunmow_, _Essex_. A Minister. 76 9mo. 21 1849

SARAH ALLEN, _Bristol_. A Minister. 77 6mo. 1 1850

ELEANOR ALLEN, _Ballitore_. Wife of Henry Allen. 49 3mo. 4 1850

ANN ALLIS, _Bristol_. Wife of Hagger Allis. 65 8mo. 30 1850

JOHN ALLISON, _Durham_. 57 6mo. 1 1850

ROBERT ALSOP, _Maldon_, _Essex_. A Minister. 72 7mo. 21 1850

SOPHIA APPLETON, _Stoke Newington_. Wife of John Appleton. 49 3mo. 28

1850

WILLIAM ASHBY, _Hounslow_. 61 1mo. 7 1850

HANNAH C. BACKHOUSE, _Polam Hill_, _Darlington_. A Minister. Widow of

Jonathan Backhouse. {2} 63 5mo. 6 1850

GEORGE BAKER, _Askham Field_, _York_. An Elder. 71 1mo. 26 1850

He was one who remembered his Creator in the days of his youth, and who

proved in his own experience, that "the fear of the Lord" is not only

"the beginning of wisdom," but that it is also "a fountain of life

preserving from the snares of death." His earnest desire was to be found

walking acceptably before God; and while a young man, he became greatly

distressed at being overcome by drowsiness in meetings for worship. On

one occasion, when this had been the case, he retired to a secluded spot,

under a hedge, where, with many tears, he poured forth his prayers for

deliverance from this besetment. Many years afterwards, when

accompanying a friend on a religious visit to the families of that

meeting, he pointed out the place, and remarked with expressions of

gratitude, that from that time, he did not remember having been overcome

in the same manner.

He was deeply impressed with the words of his Saviour: "All things

whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them,"

and he so carried this precept out into practice, as to become remarkable

for his uprightness of character, and for his consideration for others.

The following circumstances present instructive examples of the kindly

sympathy of this "good Samaritan:"

On the occurrence of a malignant fever, in one of the eastern dales of

Yorkshire, while he resided in that district, he left his own home for

several weeks, to nurse some of his neighbours who had become affected

with the disease, devoting his whole time to the sick, while dread of

infection rendered it difficult for him to obtain assistance in this

office of mercy.

After his removal into the neighbourhood of York, and at a time when many

persons were returning past his premises from a contested Election, and

some of them so much intoxicated as to be incapable of taking care of

themselves; fearing lest any severe accident should befall them while in

this condition, he took several of them from the highway, and lodged them

in one of his outhouses, dismissing them on the following morning with

suitable but kind admonition. And when numbers of the Irish poor were

driven from their own country by famine, and wandered about in this land

"for lack of bread," he sheltered many of them in his out-buildings and

ministered to their necessities.

George Baker occupied the station of Elder for many years, exercising a

fatherly care in the church, and extending counsel or encouragement, as

he saw occasion, with a simplicity and godly sincerity which gave him

great place amongst his friends. He was often applied to by his

neighbours for counsel, and as a peace-maker; and in serving them was

remarkable for his patience, self-denial, and success. In his latter

years, his powers both of body and mind failed greatly, in consequence of

an accident which he met with, while in the pursuit of his occupation as

a farmer; but having "worked while it was day," he was preserved through

a period which might be spoken of as "a night, in which no man could

work;" so that love, that badge of discipleship with Christ, shone

brightly in his last moments, as from under the margin of a dark cloud,

and a solemn feeling of peace with God, through Jesus Christ, pervaded

his dying hours.

ELIZABETH G. BARCLAY, _Walthamstow_. Daughter of Joseph G. Barclay. 2

8mo. 31 1849

ROBERT BARKER, _Cheadle_, _Manchester_. 62 9mo. 28 1850

THOMAS BAYNES, _Bainbridge_, _Yorkshire_. 70 5mo. 14 1850

THOMAS BEAKBANE, _Liverpool_. 50 4mo. 14 1850

RACHEL BEEBY, _Allonby_. 65 12mo. 15 1849

MARY ANNE BELL, _Belfast_. Daughter of Thomas and Sarah Bell. 39 2mo.

23 1850

MARY BENINGTON, _Wakefield_. A Minister. Wife of George Benington. 55

6mo. 8 1850

ELIZABETH BENNIS, _Clonmel_. Daughter of the late William Bennis of

Limerick. 16 2mo. 24 1850

PHOEBE BENT, _Sutton-in-Ashfield_, _Nottinghamshire_. Widow of Joseph

Bent of Stockport. 85 8mo. 15 1850

ELIZABETH BENTLEY, _Ipswich_. Daughter of Thomas F. and Maria Bentley.

16 11mo. 28 1849

MARY BENWELL, _Sidcot_. 50 1mo. 13 1850

ELIZABETH BEWLEY, _Rockville_, _Dublin_. Daughter of Thomas and Rebecca

Bewley. 3 1mo. 16 1850

WILLIAM BINNS, _Poole_. An Elder. 81 4mo. 10 1850

We have often had to observe, that many of our friends, who have lived to

a good old age, and who have been loved and honoured in their respective

stations, as upright pillars in the church, have left but few written

memorials of their course for the instruction of others; whilst

encompassed with infirmities, and looking for the help of the Lord's

Spirit to resist their manifold temptations and easily besetting sins,

they have been enabled to pursue the even tenor of their way, seeking

through divine grace to fulfil the day's work, in the day time, and

hoping to hear at last the call of mercy into one of the many mansions

prepared by Him, who has loved them and died for them. We love to dwell

upon this class of our departed friends, and without undervaluing those

whose gifts have been more prominent, or whom circumstances have rendered

more conspicuous in our pages, we sincerely desire that these more

hidden, but not less valuable parts of the spiritual building, may ever

be honoured amongst us. Such an one was our late friend, William Binns.

It was during his apprenticeship that, under the ministry of two women

friends, engaged in a family visit, he was powerfully awakened to the

eternal interests of his soul, and through divine grace, the impression

made, was of so decided a character, that putting his hand to the

Christian plough, he looked not back.

He was greatly concerned for the true welfare of our religious Society,

and in the district in which he resided was eminently useful; caring for

the flock over which the good Shepherd had made him an overseer.

Sterling integrity and uprightness marked his character; his judgment was

clear and sound, and was frequently given in comprehensive and pertinent

language, free from all superfluous expression.

He took a very low estimate of his own attainments, and was humbled under

a sense of his shortcomings; as the shadows of evening were closing

around him, he frequently and feelingly intimated, that there was for

him, but one ground of faith and hope, the free mercy of God in Jesus

Christ his Saviour; such was the subject of his frequent expression to

his friends, and they rejoice in the belief that having in his long

pilgrimage taken up his cross, and sought above all things to follow

Christ, so in the end he was prepared to enter into the eternal joys of

his Lord.

GEORGE BINNS, _Bradford_. 52 8mo. 26 1850

EMMA BINNS, _Sunderland_. Daughter of Henry Binns. 6 8mo. 22 1850

WILLIAM BLACK, _Cockermouth_. 71 9mo. 20 1849

JOSEPH BLACK, _Lisburn_. 22 5mo. 23 1850

THOMAS BOWRY, _Stepney_. 67 4mo. 27 1850

ROBERT WM. BRIGHTWEN, _Newcastle-on-Tyne_. Son of Charles Brightwen. 4

3mo. 6 1850

THOMAS BROWN, _Cirencester_. A Minister. 84 10mo. 13 1849

AMELIA BROWN, _Luton_. A Minister. Wife of Richard Marks Brown. 62

12mo. 7 1849

This beloved friend was privileged beyond many in the pious care

exercised in her religious training. She became early acquainted with

the teachings of divine grace, and from childhood, appears highly to have

valued the holy scriptures. It was frequently her practice to set apart

some portion of the day for private retirement and meditation, and in

thus seeking to wait upon the Lord for the renewal of her spiritual

strength, she was favoured to know "times of refreshing," and a growth in

"pure and undefiled religion."

She loved the truth in sincerity, and her mind was enriched in the

instructive contemplation of its order, excellence and beauty, and the

benign and salutary influence it has on those who obey its requisitions:

fervently she craved for an increase of faith and strength, that she

might be found among the "called, and chosen, and faithful." "I felt,"

she remarks on one occasion, "as if I could make any sacrifice called

for; the language of my mind is almost continually, what shall I render

unto the Lord for all his benefits."

Under the apprehension that it would be required of her publicly to bear

testimony to the power and sufficiency of divine grace, her mind was

greatly humbled, and under the pressure of religious exercise, she thus

records her feelings: "Sweetly tendered in my room, and craved for

strength, fully and unreservedly, to yield all to Him, who still in mercy

visits me; if consistent with divine goodness, may my mind be more

illuminated, that I may more clearly distinguish between my own will and

the Lord's requirings." She was recorded a minister in 1823; and on this

important event she observes: "Feeling some quietude, humble desires are

prevalent that I may indeed be watchful. Dearest Lord! be pleased to

hear my feeble though sincere aspirations after increasing strength and

wisdom. Thou knowest that I feel awfully fearful lest I should bring any

shade on thy blessed cause."

Her connection in married life, introduced her into a large family, the

duties of which she cheerfully performed with maternal solicitude, and

she became closely united in bonds of affection to the several branches

of the domestic circle, anxiously promoting their religious and moral

welfare.

In ministry, this dear friend was pertinent and edifying, at times close

and searching; in the exercise of her gift, she travelled at different

intervals in several of the English counties. In the summer of 1848 her

health began to decline; her demeanour under pain and suffering evinced

her humble dependence upon the Lord, and the language of her soul was,

"not my will, but thine, oh Father, be done!" Some alleviation was

permitted, and she so far recovered as to be able to assemble with her

friends for divine worship; on these occasions, her communications

evinced her undiminished interest in the cause of truth and

righteousness. In the last meeting she attended, she bowed the knee in

solemn supplication, craving for herself and those present, the

attainment of perfect purity and holiness, and that this might be the

chief concern of their lives. A few days after, she was seized with

paralysis, and although consciousness was not entirely effaced, she said

but little; she retained a grateful sense of her many mercies, and a

fervent affection towards her husband and near connections. Gradually

declining, she passed away as falling into a sweet sleep, and we cannot

doubt exchanged the tribulations of time, for the blissful joys of

eternity.

JOSEPH STANDIN BROWN, _Hitchin_. 60 6mo. 27 1850

SARAH BROWN, _Preston Crowmarsh_, _Oxon_. Wife of Richard M. Brown,

junior. 36 3mo. 31 1850

GEORGE BRUMELL, _Scotby_. 72 2mo. 23 1850

ASH BUDGE, _Camborne_, _Redruth_. Wife of John Budge. 53 4mo. 10 1850

In an unexpected hour, and in the enjoyment of usual health, it pleased

our heavenly Father to lay his hand of affliction upon this dear friend,

and after a severe illness of about four weeks, to gather her, as we

reverently believe, into "the rest which remaineth for the people of

God."

It appears, that in early life, "the grace which bringeth salvation,"

wrought effectually in her heart, so that her surviving relatives cannot

recall the time when the fear of God did not influence her conduct; her

pious mother, who for many years filled the station of Elder in our

Society; was deeply interested in the religious welfare of her children,

and earnestly sought, in the morning of their day, to imbue their minds

with the principles and precepts of the gospel of Christ, and her labours

of love in reference to this beloved daughter were graciously owned. From

her childhood, she was more than commonly dutiful and affectionate to her

parents, rarely giving them any cause for uneasiness; an aged grandmother

also, who resided for many years with them, she waited on with such

tender care, as to call forth the expression of her belief, that a

blessing would rest on her on that account.

Great meekness, tenderness, and humility clothed her mind, not only

throughout the season of her affliction, but for a long course of

previous years, binding her in very tender bonds to her husband and

children, as well as to her other endeared relatives and friends.

It appears, from the first day on which her illness assumed a more

serious character, that an impression pervaded her mind, that it would be

unto death, and accompanying this impression, a deep and earnest desire

for entire resignation to the divine will; and this desire was graciously

answered; for during the period of her illness, her resignation, and

consequent tranquillity, were indeed remarkable; attended by a precious

measure of "the peace of God which passeth all understanding." So fully

was this the case, and so little of the appearance of death accompanied

her illness, that a lively hope of her restoration to health, was, even

to the last day of her life, earnestly cherished by those around her, and

in addition to this, such was the nature of her disease, that great

stillness and uninterrupted rest were considered necessary; thus

circumstanced, whilst both her mind, and their minds, were abundantly

satisfied with the precious evidence of the love of God in Christ Jesus,

shed abroad in her heart, they were not anxious for much expression, or

careful to commit to writing what, from season to season, fell from her

lips; feeling that her mind "wore thanksgiving to her Maker."

She evinced, throughout her married life, a deep interest in the well-

being of her tenderly beloved children, making it her frequent practice

to spend some portion of her time in retirement with them, in reading the

holy scriptures and in prayer; and this interest increasingly appeared as

she lay on the bed of affliction, having them daily in her chamber, and

again and again, in tender affection, impressing on their minds the

importance of divine and eternal things, urging them to walk in the way

of God's commandments, and to regard his favour and approbation as the

one thing, beyond all other things, necessary both to their present peace

and everlasting salvation: similar counsel was also extended to the other

members of her household and family, to the friends who kindly visited

her, to her medical attendants, and to her neighbours. More might be

said in reference to the Christian graces which marked the character of

this beloved friend, but the object is not to magnify the creature, but

to set forth the excellency and sufficiency of the "grace which is from

God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ," and by the effectual

operation of which, she was what she was. The last words she addressed

to her tenderly beloved husband were: "All is well:" and again, shortly

before the final close: "My foundation is on the Rock;" that Rock, we

undoubtingly believe, which "no tempest overthrows."

REBECCA CANDLER, _East Hill_, _Colchester_. 55 5mo. 8 1850

SARAH CARSON, _Liverpool_. Wife of William Carson. 59 2mo. 21 1850

HANNAH CARTER, _Preston_. Daughter of Thomas and Mary Carter. 4 7mo. 12

1850

HANNAH CASSON, _Hull_. Daughter of Benjamin Casson. 14 8mo. 22 1850

HANNAH CATLIN, _London_. Died at York. 62 3mo. 26 1850

WILLIAM CHANTLER, _Lewes_. 78 2mo. 15 1850

DANIEL CHAPMAN, _Reeth_. 24 12mo. 29 1849

WILLIAM CHESELDEN, _Ipswich_. 85 12mo. 17 1849

JOHN CHRISTMAS, _Colne near Earith_. 87 7mo. 7 1850

MARY CHRISTY, _Woodbank_, _Lurgan_. Daughter of the late John Christy,

of Stramore. 33 1mo. 23 1850

THOMAS CLARK, _Bridgewater_. A Minister. 91 6mo. 16 1850

SAMUEL CLARK, _Lower Grange_, _Ireland_. 68 12mo. 28 1849

JOSEPH CLARK, _Southampton_. An Elder. 85 5mo. 25 1850

SUSAN CLEMES, _Ackworth_. Daughter of Samuel and Jane Clemes. 1 4mo. 1

1850

JOHN BARCLAY CLIBBORN, _Duner Mills_, _Clonmel_. 80 3mo. 22 1850

JOSHUA COLEBY, _Alton_. An Elder. 73 3mo. 25 1850

MARY COOKE, _Liverpool_. Widow of John Cooke. 68 12mo. 9 1849

MARY COOPER, _Brighouse_. A Minister. Widow of Thomas Cooper. 79 4mo.

20 1850

MARTHA COOPER, _Lockwood_, _Huddersfield_. Widow of John Cooper, of

Brighouse. 65 9mo. 14 1849

JOSEPH COVENTRY, _Stoke Newington_. 70 2mo. 17 1850

ELIZABETH CRAPP, _Truro_. 64 1mo. 22 1850

MARY CRAWE, _Norwich_. Widow of Spicer Crawe. 77 3mo. 8 1850

TABITHA CROSLAND, _Bradford_. Wife of Robert Crosland. 45 10mo. 29 1849

RACHEL CURCHIN, _Ipswich_. Died at York. 50 1mo. 20 1850

WILLIAM CURTIS, _Alton_. 79 10mo. 13 1849

FRANCIS DARBY, _Sunniside_, _Coalbrookdale_. 67 3mo. 20 1850

SAMUEL DAVIS, _Aldershaw_, _Garsdale_, _Yorkshire_. 81 5mo. 30 1850

EDWIN DAWES, _Stoke Newington_. 38 10mo. 27 1849

ANNA MARIA DAY, _Saffron Walden_. 68 11mo. 8 1849

GULIELMA DEANE, _Reigate_. Daughter of James and Sarah Deane. 18 11mo.

4 1849

SARAH (_Sally_) DEAVES, _Eglantine_, _Cork_. Daughter of Reuben and

Sarah Deaves. 22 10mo. 3 1849

The sudden death, by Cholera, of this dear young friend, caused at the

time a very lively emotion among a wide circle of friends. She was the

only and much beloved child of her bereaved parents;--naturally of a most

amiable disposition, and of that lively temperament which gives a

peculiar zest to life and all its passing enjoyments, she diffused around

her somewhat of the buoyancy and sunshine which seemed ever to attend her

own steps. Thus attractive and admired, and drinking largely of the cup

of present pleasures, the thoughts of the future appear to have had but

little place in her mind. In a state of excellent health, she had gone

to Mountmelick to pass a few weeks with some near relatives, when she was

seized with the disorder which, in a few hours, closed her life. Those

hours were passed in much bodily suffering, but sorer still were the

conflicts of her mind. The scales which had prevented her from seeing

the real worth of life and the awful realities of the future, at once

fell from her eyes, and she saw or rather felt with indescribable

clearness, that the great truths which appertain to the welfare of the

soul belong alike to the young and the healthy, to the sick and the

dying. She saw that she had been living to herself and not to God, and

this, whatever particulars she might lament, was the heavy burden of her

awakened spirit. In the depths of contrition, and in the earnestness of

faith, she was enabled to pray to her heavenly Father, and Saviour, to

draw near and to have mercy upon her.

Thus passed some hours never to be forgotten. The rapid progress of her

disease hardly allowed time for much further mental exercise or

expression. She sank into a state of quietude of body and of mind. And

when all was over, the sorrowing parents were condoled in the hope, that

the prayers of their beloved child had been heard, through the mercy of

Him who never turned away his ear from the truly repentant suppliant.

What lessons does this brief narrative offer to survivors. Awfully does

it speak to the children of pleasure, of the inestimable value of the

soul--of the importance of time--of the folly of living in forgetfulness

of God, and unmindful of their high destiny as immortal beings. What a

light does it throw on the responsibility of parents; and whilst

affording no encouragement to delay in the hope of a death-bed

repentance, what a view does it open of the infinite mercy of our

heavenly Father in Christ Jesus.

MARTHA DELL, _Birmingham_. Widow of Joseph H. Dell, of Earls Colne. 78

4mo. 30 1850

SAMUEL DICKINSON, _Denbydale_, _Highflatts_, _Yorkshire_. 79 2mo. 19

1850

EDWARD DOUBLEDAY, _Harrington Square_, _Westminster_. 38 11mo. 14 1849

ISABELLA DOWBIGGIN, _Preston_. Widow. 75 7mo. 26 1850

JOSEPH DOYLE, _Calledon_, _Kilconnor_. 60 7mo. 6 1850

THOMAS DUNBABBIN, _Chorlton-on-Medlock_. 68 3mo. 29 1850

CHARLOTTE EDMUNDSON, _Kingstown_, _Dublin_. Widow of Joshua Edmundson.

76 10mo. 18 1849

JANE EUSTACE, _Hampstead_, _Dublin_. 56 12mo. 10 1849

ROBERT FARR, _Birmingham_. Died at Worcester. 36 3mo. 10 1850

ANNE FAYLE, _Enniscorthy_. Widow of Josiah Fayle. 54 1mo. 18 1850

ELEANOR FELL, _Uxbridge_. Wife of John Fell. 41 10mo. 15 1849

SUSANNAH FERN, _Rochdale_. Widow of Joseph Fern. 76 7mo. 24 1850

SUSANNA FINCH, _Reading_. 78 12mo. 6 1849

SUSANNAH FINCHER, _Evesham_. Widow of John Fincher. 78 12mo. 16 1849

SARAH MARIA FISHER, _Newport_, _Tipperary_. Daughter of Benjamin C. and

Mary Fisher. 18 4mo. 16 1850

SARAH FOWLER, _Higher Broughton_, _Manchester_. Widow of William Fowler.

87 6mo. 28 1850

CATHERINE FOX, _Rushmere_, _Ipswich_. An Elder. Wife of Thomas Fox. 62

10mo. 6 1849

ELIZABETH FREELOVE, _London_. Wife of James Freelove. 40 12mo. 17 1849

LUCY FREETH, _Birmingham_. 53 1mo. 19 1850

ANN FULLER, _Yarmouth_. Widow of John Fuller. 77 5mo. 20 1850

ANNE GALE, _Racketstown_, _Ballynakill_, _Ireland_. Widow. 73 6mo. 10

1850

JOHN GAUNTLEY, _Bakewell_. 72 7mo. 28 1850

MARY COOKE GELDART, _Norwich_. Wife of Joseph Geldart. 55 5mo. 24 1850

ROBERT GOSWELL GILES, _Oldford_, _Middlesex_. An Elder. 80 8mo. 23 1849

JOSEPH GILLETT, _Banbury_. Son of Joseph A. and Martha Gillett. 21 3mo.

2 1850

THOMAS GOODYEAR, _Adderbury_. 75 8mo. 14 1850

BENJAMIN GOOUCH, _Greenville_, _county Kilkenny_. 84 5mo. 2 1850

ISABELLA GRACE, _Bristol_. Daughter of Josiah and Mary Grace. 9 9mo. 28

1850

ELIZABETH GREEN, _Trummery_, _Ballinderry_. Widow of Thomas Green. 96

4mo. 8 1850

ELLEN GREEN, _Gildersome_, _Yorkshire_. Widow of David Green. 70 4mo.

25 1850

MARY GREENWOOD, _Stones_, _Todmorden_. 72 11mo. 12 1849

JAMES GREENWOOD, _Plaistow_. 79 5mo. 9 1850

THOMAS GRIMES, _Chelsea_. 52 5mo. 20 1850

ABRAHAM GRUBB, _Merlin_, _Clonmel_. 73 11mo. 7 1849

JOHN GULSON, _Leicester_. 89 5mo. 26 1850

THOMAS HAGGER, _Hoddesdon_. 85 7mo. 11 1850

RACHEL HALL, _Greysouthen_, _Cumberland_. 69 1mo. 30 1850

MARY HARKER, _Bristol_. Widow of John Harker. 81 11mo. 5 1849

ADAM HARKER, _Darlington_. 76 4mo. 3 1850

MARGARET HARKER, _Cowgill, Dent_, _Yorkshire_. Wife of Thomas Harker. 63

2mo. 23 1850

MARY HARRIS, _Peckham Rye_. Wife of John Harris. 61 10mo. 7 1849

JOHN HARRISON, _Poole_, _Dorset_. Son of Samuel and Sarah Harrison. 3

9mo. 29 1849

ELIZABETH HARRISON, _Southgate_, _Middlesex_. 60 3mo. 26 1850

MARY HARTAS, _Sinnington Grange_, _near Kirby_, _Yorkshire_. A Minister.

Widow of Thomas Hartas. 74 3mo. 2 1850

JOHN HARTAS, _Westerdale_, _Castleton_, _Yorkshire_. 49 9mo. 26 1850

WILLIAM HARTLEY, _Dunfermline_, _near Edinburgh_. 43 4mo. 23 1850

JOHN HASLEM, _Rosenalis_, _Mountmelick_. 81 1mo. 5 1850

MARY HAWKSWORTH, _Thorne_. Wife of John Hawksworth. 64 1mo. 5 1850

ELLEN HAWORTH, _Todmorden_. Wife of William Haworth. 57 12mo. 10 1849

BENJAMIN HAYLLAR, _Dorking_. 83 10mo. 6 1849

HANNAH HAYTON, _Penrith_. 70 3mo. 24 1850

MARY ANN HEAD, _Ipswich_. 33 4mo. 18 1850

ANN HERBERT, _Tottenham_. 72 9mo. 24 1849

ISAAC HEWITSON, _Penrith_. 82 8mo. 28 1850

ELIZABETH HILL, _Hillsborough_, _Ireland_. 87 9mo. 18 1849

RICHARD IVEY HOCKING, _Truro_. 49 10mo. 5 1849

MARY HODGKIN, _Shipston-on-Stour_. 78 12mo. 8 1849

JAMES HOGG, _Portadown Grange_, _Ireland_. 51 1mo. 2 1850

ANN HOLMES, _Huddersfield_. 31 5mo. 21 1850

SARAH HOOWE, _Edenderry_. 67 8mo. 30 1850

MARTHA HORNE, _Tottenham_. An Elder. 85 9mo. 2 1850

ELIZABETH HORSFALL, _Leeds_. 50 1mo. 17 1850

RICHARD HORSNAILL, _Dover_. 48 7mo. 23 1850

In endeavouring to pursue faithfully the path of manifested duty, we

believe it was peculiarly the aim of this dear friend, "to do justly, to

love mercy, and to walk humbly with his God." He was of a very diffident

disposition, and cautious in giving expression to his religious feelings,

lest he should thereby make a profession beyond what he thought his

attainments warranted.

For many years he laboured under a disease, which was attended with much

suffering; but this proved a means of weaning him from the world and its

pursuits, and of inducing him more earnestly to "seek first the kingdom

of God and his righteousness," with the unshaken belief that all things

necessary would be added.

He manifested a deep interest in the prosperity of our religious Society,

and according to his measure, especially in the latter part of his life,

willingly devoted himself to its service. He likewise took great delight

in promoting the best interests of the juvenile portion of the population

in the neighbourhood in which he resided; and the counsel he gave to

those of this class, often gained their good will and respectful

attention. He also exhibited a very humane disposition toward the animal

creation, and rarely allowed a case of ill-treatment or oppression to

pass without attempting to redress the wrongs inflicted. For some years,

he took great interest in supplying the crews of foreign vessels,

resorting to the port of Dover, with copies of the holy Scriptures and

religious tracts; and from his kind and unassuming manners, his efforts

were almost universally well received.

His last illness, of four months' duration, was attended with extreme

bodily suffering; but the nature of his complaint being very obscure, he

entertained a hope that he might be restored to his former state of

health, and expressed some anxiety for length of days, in order that he

might be more useful to his fellow-creatures. But as his strength

declined, this desire gave way to quiet submission to the will of his

God; and it was evident, that his soul was anchored upon that Rock, which

alone can support in the hour of trial.

Soon after he was taken ill, he remarked in allusion to his business,

that he had thought it right in one instance, to decline the execution of

an order, where more display of taste was required, than he could feel

satisfied with; and this sacrifice, with some others of a similar kind,

had afforded him peace: adding, "I do want to come clean out of Babylon."

He said, the language had been much upon his mind: "Purge me with hyssop,

and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow:" and also

the words of our Saviour,--"If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with

me."

Being in great pain, he said,--"You must pray for me, that my patience

may hold out; I have indeed need of your prayers, for my sufferings are

very great; but, bye and bye, perhaps I may be able to say, I have not

had one pang too many." At another time, he supplicated thus: "Merciful

Father, be pleased to grant me a little ease, O! Thou that makest the

storm a calm, and sayest to the waves, Peace be still." Soon after which

he lay quiet; and whilst tears of gratitude flowed down his cheeks, he

said, "Do not disturb me; all is stillness,--what a mercy!"

On one occasion, when feeling exceedingly depressed, he remarked, that

the vessels he had visited, and the poor sailors were brought mentally to

view, one after another, with much sweetness, and whilst he took no merit

to himself, he desired to encourage others to do what they could for the

good of the poor. At another time, after giving instructions to one of

his sisters, to make some selection of tracts for the sailors on board a

German vessel, then lying in the harbour, he observed: "Oh, what a field

of labour there is! how I do wish that some one would take this up, for I

feel as though I should be able to do very little more in it."

His mind, during his illness, seemed filled with love and gratitude. He

remarked, "I never felt so much love before, both to my family and

friends; I do believe this illness will bind us more closely together

than ever." And again: "Oh, how kind you are to wait upon me so; the

Lord will reward you!" At another time, he said, "I had not thought to

have been taken at this time of my life, but I am in such a critical

state, that life hangs on a thread;--the pains of the body are what I

seem most to dread."

On inquiring one day, where that line was to be found, "At ease in his

possessions," he remarked, "I do not think I have been at ease in mine, I

have endeavoured to live loose to them." A hope being expressed that his

illness would be sanctified to him, he quickly replied, "Yes, and not to

me only, but to all of you." He gave some directions, in the event of

his death, with much composure, observing: "It seems an awful thing for

me to say thus much, but a great favour to be so free from anxiety." In

the night he was heard to say: "No merit of mine, it is all of mercy,

free unmerited mercy!" On a young man in his employment coming to assist

him, previous to going to his own place of worship, when about to leave

the room, he thus addressed him: "Mind and make a good use of the time,

and do not be afraid of looking into thy own heart, but suffer the

witness to come in and speak, whether it be in the language of

encouragement or reproof. Many persons go to their places of worship,

where much of the time is spent in singing and in music, which please the

outward ear, but this is not religion! It is when we are brought to see

ourselves as we really are, sinners in the sight of a holy God, that we

are led to seek a Saviour, and to cry, in sincerity, 'A Saviour, or I

die! A Redeemer, or I perish for ever!'"

On its being remarked to him, that it was consolingly believed, he was

one of those who had endeavoured to occupy with his talent, which, if

only one, it was hoped, had gained an increase, he replied,--"That will

only be known at the great day of account, when weighed in the balance."

On Seventh-day evening preceding his decease, he remarked to a beloved

relative, that it seemed the safest for him to say but little in regard

to his own attainments, adding,--"My desire is, for a continuance of kind

preservation." And on the day before his death, he remarked with

gratitude, that his intellects had been preserved clear throughout his

illness. During the night, he was much engaged in prayer; his bodily

powers were fast sinking, but his mind appeared preserved in peaceful

serenity. In the morning, he expressed a desire that his sister would

remain by him, affectionately inquired for his father, and soon after, we

reverently believe, exchanged a state of suffering for one of

never-ending rest and joy, in the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and

Saviour Jesus Christ.

ALBERT GEORGE HORSNAILL, _Rochester_. Son of George and Maria Horsnaill.

4 5mo. 22 1850

JAMES HOTHAM, _Leeds_. 44 2mo. 7 1850

JOHN HULL, _Ramsgate_. Died at Cheltenham. 55 6mo. 3 1850

MARY HUNT, _Almondsbury_. A Minister. Widow of James Hunt. 79 12mo. 7

1849

DAVID HURST, _West Houghton_, _Lancashire_. 35 2mo. 19 1850

HANNAH IRWIN, _Deptford_. Wife of Thomas Irwin. 55 2mo. 9 1850

JOHN CLARK ISAAC, _Studminster_, _Newton_, _Marnhull_. 67 2mo. 12 1850

ELIZABETH PIM JACOB, _Newlands_, _Dublin_. Daughter of the late Joseph

Jacob. 17 10mo. 30 1849

ELIZABETH JACOBS, _Folkstone_. Widow of Jacob Jacobs. 76 6mo. 9 1850

CAROLINE JACOBS, _Maidstone_. Daughter of Jacob and Lydia Jacobs. 6

8mo. 15 1850

MARY ANN JEFFERIES, _Melksham_. Daughter of Thomas and Martha Jefferies.

38 12mo. 14 1849

EMMA JEFFREY, _Folkstone_. Daughter of the late John and Eliza Jeffrey.

11 10mo. 6 1849

SARAH JEPHCOTT, _Coventry_. Wife of Enoch Jephcott. 72 3mo. 26 1850

SAMUEL JONES, _Hoxton_. 39 5mo. 10 1850

SARAH JONES, _Hereford_. Daughter of Joseph Jones. 22 7mo. 17 1850

JUDITH KING, _Castle Donington_. 86 8mo. 11 1850

JOHN LESLIE, _Wells_, _Norfolk_. 66 10mo. 14 1849

The Annual Monitor for 1851 or, Obituary of the members of the Society of Friends in Great Britain and Ireland, for the year 1850 · 第 1 / 6 段