JOHN SMITH, _Winchmorehill_. 77 7mo. 11 1850
ELIZABETH SNOWDEN, _Bradford_. Daughter of John and Ann Snowden. 21
7mo. 21 1850
MARY ANN SPARKES, _Exeter_. 41 2mo. 3 1850
ELIZA COLE SPARKES, _Exeter_. Daughter of Thomas and Esther Maria
Sparkes. 1 4mo. 29 1850
JOSEPH SPENCE, _York_. An Elder. 75 9mo. 26 1850
CHARLES SPENCE, _Darlington_. Son of Charles and Hannah Spence. 6 12mo.
8 1849
MARY SPENCER, _South Lodge, Cockermouth_. 69 6mo. 30 1850
WILLIAM SQUIRE, _Stoke Newington_. 59 3mo. 24 1850
DORCAS SQUIRE, _King's Langley_, _Hempstead_, _Herts_. 67 1mo. 9 1850
CATHERINE DYKE STADE, _Aberavon_, _Glamorgan_. Daughter of J. and R. D.
Stade. 6 11mo. 26 1849
SUSANNA STANILAND, _Hull_. 78 8mo. 26 1850
JAMES STEEVENS, _Basingstoke_. 59 2mo. 25 1850
MARY STRETCH, _Nantwich_. Widow of Richard Stretch. 80 3mo. 25 1850
ELIZABETH STRETCH, _Finedon_. Widow of Samuel Stretch, of Hortherton,
Cheshire. 75 2mo. 27 1850
SARAH TACKABERRY, _Ballygunner_, _Waterford_. Widow. 88 5mo. 12 1850
GEORGE NORTH TATHAM, _Headingley_, _Leeds_. 78 5mo. 19 1850
JAMES TAYLOR, _Heston_, _near Brentford_. 79 2mo. 7 1850
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, _Spring Hill_, _Lurgan_. 77 3mo. 19 1850
THOMAS THOMSON, _Dublin_. Son of Benjamin and Sarah Thomson. 23 11mo.
21 1849
PHILIP H. L. THORNTON, _Sidcot_. Son of William and Catherine Thornton.
22 6mo. 5 1850
The subject of this memoir was a native of Kingsbridge, Devonshire; and
was educated among Friends. He was not by birth a member of our Society,
but was received into membership a short time previous to his death.
Having been adopted by his uncle, he was taken to Ireland, when about
fourteen years of age, as an apprentice to one of the Provincial Schools,
of which his uncle was the superintendent.
Endowed with natural abilities well adapted for the acquisition of
knowledge, and possessing a taste for various branches of literature and
science,--gifted, too, with engaging manners and affability of
disposition, he became, as he grew up, a general favourite amongst those
with whom he associated, and his immediate relatives indulged in fond
hopes of his becoming an honourable and useful charter. His best
friends, however, were sometimes anxious on his account, lest the
caresses of the world should turn aside his feet from the path of safety,
and prevent that entire surrender of heart and life to the requirements
of the gospel, which alone consists with true Christian discipleship, and
affords a well-grounded expectation of real usefulness and permanent well-
being. But he was open to receive the admonitions of his friends, and
there is reason to believe that the voice of Christian counsel was
instrumental to his good.
He was never very robust; and his application to study, in addition to
his stated duties, was, perhaps, not favourable to bodily vigour. Before
the expiration of his apprenticeship, he became so enfeebled, as to cause
his relations much anxiety; and as his uncle and aunt had withdrawn from
the Institution, the Committee of the School kindly acceded to their
proposal to remove him to their own house. Here he soon rallied; and in
the summer, of 1848, applied for the situation of teacher of Sidcot
School. He entered upon the duties of the station with earnestness and
zeal; and the notice and encouragement which he there received, tended
both to render his occupation a delight, and to draw forth the more
hidden depths of his character. His heart was in his work, and the field
of labour particularly congenial to his taste.
A few months, however, sufficed to bring on a return of delicacy, and
rendered it advisable that he should retire for a while from active duty;
but the following year, apparently with renovated powers, he again
resumed his post. For a while, he appeared to think that his health was
becoming confirmed; but about the commencement of another year, he was
rapidly brought low, and nearly disqualified for the performance of his
school duties. He was however retained in his office, with delicate
attention to his known wishes, until in the 4th month, 1850, he was
obliged to withdraw, and again make his uncle's house at Mountmelick his
home. The following extracts from letters and memoranda written previous
to his leaving Sidcot, show the state of his mind at that period.
2nd mo. 10th. "I often feel,--oftener than ever, that the thread of life
is in me weak,--very weak; and, oh! I am sometimes almost overwhelmed
with the retrospects, and prospects, this feeling opens to my view. I
feel that I have been pursuing false jewels, sometimes those which have
no appearance even of external brilliance, and the _Pearl_ has escaped my
notice. I have, I believe, earnestly desired that I may be enabled to
see the true and real beauty of the Pearl, and its inestimable value, in
such a light, that nothing may again warp my attention from it."
2nd mo. 23rd, 1850. "My weakness of body, and frequent illnesses, have
brought before my mind the great uncertainty of my continuing long in
this scene of probation. I feel that I have lived hitherto 'without God
in the world,' plunged in sin and darkness; that my sins are a greater
burden than I can bear; and unless my all merciful God and Father,
through his dear Son, forgive them, and relieve me from them, I fear they
will draw me with them to the lowest grave."
"I believe my heart's desire is, to walk in the narrow way,--to be the
Lord's on his own terms, and to be humbled even in the dust. The evil
one suggests, that I can never be forgiven, and fills my soul with doubts
and fears; but, oh Lord! thou hast said, 'He that cometh to me, I will in
no wise cast out.'"
2nd mo. 24th. "Strong desires are in my heart, that I may be favoured
with an assurance of forgiveness; but, oh! I fear that my repentance is
not sincere, that the pride of the world still holds place in my heart.
Oh Lord! I pray thee that thou wilt use thy sharp threshing instrument,
and break in pieces all that is at variance with thy holy will."
"This is First-day. Be pleased to keep the door of my lips, Oh Father!
and reign absolutely in my thoughts; grant that meeting may be a time of
favour and visitation, and that I may be enabled to wait patiently for
thee. Oh! that I could keep the world from pouring on me as a flood, at
such times: Thou, gracious Father, canst enable me to do this."
3rd mo. 1st. "Struggles seem to be my portion, in which the world, the
flesh, and the devil often seem likely to get the victory. Lord, grant
through the blessed Saviour, that if I have found the good part, nothing
may be permitted to take it from me. I greatly desire an increase of
faith. Alas! I feel the little I have fail sometimes."
6th. "Oh! that none of the Lord's intentions respecting me, may be
frustrated by my disobedience and unwatchfulness. Oh! I feel that I am
indolent and very lukewarm, if not cold altogether, in attending to my
soul's salvation, and in doing all for the Lord's glory. Thou knowest,
oh Lord! that I am very weak in body; but, oh! grant that I may not make
that a cover for indolence and lukewarmness. Thou hast known my peculiar
trials, and I thank thee that thou hast, through the dear Lamb, granted
me strength to bear them."
After his return to Mountmelick, this dear youth lived seven weeks, and
during this time his company was most sweet and instructive; the tenor of
his conduct and conversation being beautifully regulated by the influence
of the divine Spirit, bringing, in great measure, as there was reason to
believe, every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ; and the
composure and serenity of his countenance, clearly indicated the sweet
peace which pervaded his mind.
About the end of Fifth Month, it became evident that the final change was
drawing near. This he was enabled to look to without dismay; saying,
when a fear was expressed that he could not continue long: "I cannot say
that I have any fear."
On the night of the 2nd of 6th Month, he said: "I wish I could feel a
stronger assurance of acceptance with the Almighty;" and afterwards he
requested to have the 23rd Psalm read to him.
The next morning, sitting up in his bed, he remarked: "There remaineth a
rest for the people of God;" and, after a pause, "I want more of that
faith, of which I fear I possess so little; and yet, when I have asked
for what was proper and needful for me, it has not been denied. I desire
to be enabled to pass through the valley of humiliation, without much
conflict; and then comes the valley of the shadow of death:--only a
shadow! the finger of God will guide safe through, all those who put
their trust in him: 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow
of death, I will fear no evil; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.'
The rod to chasten, the staff to support! Oh! all that is of the world,
and all that is in it, are worthless in my sight. If the Lord has any
work for me to do on earth, I trust I am willing to do it; but if not, I
have no wish to stay."
In the afternoon, the beloved invalid broke forth with the following
expressions: "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want;" emphatically
adding, "What a very precious promise!" and, after a short pause,--"Come
now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord, though your sins be as
scarlet, they shall be white as snow, though they be red like crimson,
they shall be as wool," remarking, "and this was under the old
dispensation. Oh! I hope my sins are gone beforehand to judgment; but
there seem to be so many fresh sins, I have so much time that I do not
improve as I ought; but the poor weak body and this weak mind too!" On
its being remarked, that we did not serve a hard master, he seemed
comforted, and continued, "Oh! that I could see the pearl gates; but I
fear I have not faith enough, nor love enough to love Him perfectly who
first loved me, and died for me, yes! even for _me_! Oh! I desire to
throw myself at his feet; how I wish I could love him better, and serve
him more."
The whole of Fourth-day he seemed fast sinking, and calmly spoke of death
as very near. He craved for patience, again and again, making use of
many sweet expressions as his end drew near. "O Jesus! sweet Jesus,
come!" and placing his hands together, supplicated thus: "Oh, dear Lord!
if it be thy will, be pleased to take me, for the sake of thy dear Son."
And, again, "Thy will be done." He remarked, "I believe I am passing
through the dark valley of the shadow of death;" and on the hope being
expressed that he would be supported through, he responded, "Through
mercy!" Soon after this, he sank into a quiet sleep, which lasted some
hours; and, shortly after waking, the unfettered spirit took its flight
so gently, as scarcely to be perceptible to those around.
FRANCES HENSHAWE THORPE, _Overbury_, _Tewkesbury_. Widow of Thomas
Thorpe. 65 10mo. 5 1849
WILLIAM TODHUNTER, _Dublin_. 46 1mo. 19 1850
SUSANNA TODHUNTER, _Dublin_. Widow of John Todhunter. 74 2mo. 2 1850
SUSANNA TODHUNTER, _Dublin_. Daughter of Thomas H. and Hannah Todhunter.
1 8mo. 30 1850
CATHERINE TOMS, _Amersham_. 67 1mo. 8 1850
ALEXANDER TOWNSEND, _Rathrush_, _Kilconnor_. 70 12mo. 7 1849
CROUDSON TUNSTALL, _Alvaston Grove_, _Nantwich_. An Elder. 68 11mo. 17
1849
Dedication to the cause of truth, marked the character of our dear
friend; and divine grace wrought effectually in him--breaking the
obstructions of the natural mind--smoothing the rugged path of life, and
enabling him to rejoice in the mercy which followed him, and which was
his support through many tribulations.
It was his earnest desire to know _in himself_ a growth in the truth, and
to have his building firm on the Rock of ages. His diligence in the
support of our meetings for worship and discipline, and the reverent
frame of his spirit in these meetings, was animating and exemplary to his
friends, as was also his daily circumspect walk. The chastenings of
divine love produced profitable experience, and being accepted by him,
with humble gratitude and prayerful submission, his heart was enriched by
spiritual blessings. When near the confines of time, and the power of
utterance nearly gone, he was reminded by a friend of the faithfulness
and tender mercy of our Saviour, when he emphatically replied,--"_That_
is my only comfort." Thus under the rapid decay of the outward man, he
possessed a peaceful mind, in that blessed hope which had been in his
day, as the anchor to his soul--"sure and steadfast."
THOMAS WADDINGTON, _Penketh_. 49 9mo. 3 1850
JOHN WAITHMAN, _Yealand_. 49 11mo. 2 1849
MARIA WALKER, _Wooldale_, _Yorkshire_. Daughter of Samuel Walker. 24
10mo. 18 1849
HANNAH WALKER, _Dirtcar_, _Wakefield_. Wife of Robert Walker. 68 4mo. 3
1850
BARBARA WALLER, _York_. 70 11mo. 13 1849
The quiet acquiescence of this dear friend, in the divine will, under
changes of circumstances involving, to her energetic and lively mind,
much suffering, appeared to many of her immediate friends, deeply
instructive. In early life, she was, for several years, resident in the
family of her brother Stephen Waller, at Clapton; and during the long
continued illness of his wife, took charge of the family, including an
interesting group of young children, between whom and herself the
tenderest affection subsisted. On the restoration of her sister's
health, she came to reside with her brother Robert Waller, of York.
In the First month, 1829, at the solicitation of the committee, she
consented to undertake, for a time, the domestic care of the Boys'
School, then first established by York Quarterly Meeting, in that city.
Though in delicate health, and with a voice which she could rarely raise
above a whisper, she soon became so warmly interested in the institution,
as to prevent the necessity for further inquiry for a female head. Her
active and executive mind, found here a large field of usefulness, which
she well occupied. Her kind interest in the institution, the scholars
and the officers, increased from year to year. Her ability in providing
for and securing the comfort of all around her, always conspicuous, was
eminently so in times of sickness, whether of more or less severity. On
these occasions, besides her power of skilfully ministering to physical
comforts, her quiet spirit, knowing where she herself had sought and
found consolation, could direct others to the same unfailing Source.
At the close of the year 1836, in consequence of the decease of her
sister Hannah, the wife of Robert Waller, she was called from the scene
of her arduous, yet to her, pleasant labours; the beneficial results of
which were, the establishment of orderly arrangement, and plans of
domestic comfort, essential to the well-being of a school. She remained
with her brother at Holdgate, till the time of his second marriage, when
change was again her allotment. After a short absence from York she
finally settled there. Her declining health rendered repose needful,
although the liveliness of her spirits enabled her greatly to enjoy
frequent intercourse with her friends;--and the school, the scene of her
former labours, was an object of continued affectionate interest.
In recording these few incidents, which we well know, of themselves, are
of little importance, perhaps entirely insignificant to the general
reader, we believe, nevertheless, that a useful lesson may be conveyed.
The path of our dear friend was, remarkably, not one of her own choosing;
most of the changes of place and circumstance which she experienced,
involved much that was painful; yet under all, the quiet, peaceful,
thankful resignation which she was enabled to attain, shewed where her
hopes were anchored, and proved the power of divine grace to make hard
things easy. For many months previous to her decease, she was confined
to her couch, and latterly to her bed. During this period, she bore with
unrepining patience, much bodily suffering; but her cheerful and
energetic mind still retained its characteristic vigour. In this, her
last illness, the kind attentions, and tender cares, which she had so
often ministered to others, were abundantly repaid to herself. In
addition to the assiduous and faithful services of the family with whom
she had taken up her abode, and who became warmly attached to her, she
had for many weeks previous to her decease, the tenderest attention of
one of her affectionate nieces, of whose infant years she had been the
watchful guardian.
A friend who frequently visited her on her bed of suffering, says, "In
some of my last visits to her, her expression of firm and loving reliance
upon the Lord, whose support she had been wont to seek in the time of
health, as well as in that of suffering, was a sweet testimony to the
blessedness of having made him her portion. She told me how comforted
she had been under great bodily weakness, when she felt unable definitely
to put up her petitions, in the lively remembrance that she had a never-
failing Advocate with the Father, touched with a feeling of her
infirmities, ever living to make intercession for her. 'Oh!' she
remarked, 'the sense of it has been precious to me.'" Thus peace and
thankfulness were the frequent clothing of her spirit, till her earthly
house of this tabernacle was quietly dissolved, and exchanged, we
reverently believe, for 'a house not made with hands, eternal in the
heavens.'
ALICE WALLER, _The Howe_, _Halsted_. Widow of Robert Waller, of York. 76
6mo. 25 1850
Of the childhood of our friend we know but little. Her parents were
members of our religious Society, and brought up their children in
conformity with its practices. She was, at rather an early age, placed
at the school for girls at York, which had, at that time, some peculiar
advantages in regard to the religious and moral care of the pupils. But
from this enclosure she was soon recalled, to be the companion of her
invalid mother; and at the early age of sixteen, when her beloved parent
was removed by death, she took the charge of her father's domestic
concerns, and resided with him till her marriage with Benjamin Horner of
York.
Although the shortness of the period she remained at school, might be
disadvantageous to her in several respects, yet it is highly probable
that, in her mother's sick chamber, some impressions were made, and
lessons learned, which were as seeds sown to bring forth fruit in a
future day.
Her husband's circle of acquaintance was an extensive, and, in its
character, a much varied one; and, for some years, Alice Horner mingled
much in gay society, occasionally frequenting with her husband places of
amusement, especially those in which music formed the chief attraction.
But during this period, in which she may be said to have lived to
herself, she was not without compunctuous visitations; and as the
responsibilities of a mother came upon her, she increasingly felt the
seriousness of life, and the duty, as well as the privilege, of living to
God, and being enabled to look unto Him as a Father and a Friend.
These feelings appear to have gradually gained ascendancy in her mind,
and her prevalent desire became, to be a Christian upon Christ's own
terms. She felt herself as one who had been forgiven much, and therefore
loved much,--striving to be no more conformed to this world, but
transformed by the renewing of her mind. Her conscience became not only
enlightened, but tender; and yielding to what she believed to be her duty
to God, she not only refrained from all the public amusements in which
she had formerly taken pleasure, but acted in her associations with
others, consistently with her views as a Friend. If in this strait path;
walking much alone and inexperienced in the way: she sometimes erred, we
believe it was rather on the side of decision, than on that of undue
yielding. She seemed to live under a sense of that saying of the
apostle, "Whatsoever is not of faith is sin." And whilst the course
which she pursued could not fail to restrict, in some degree, her
intercourse with the world, those with whom she still associated, (and
her circle continued to be a wide one,) appeared in general to estimate
her motives; and many of them entertained an increased love and respect
for her character; and He who, above all things, she desired to serve,
was pleased abundantly to comfort and strengthen her in all her trials.
The death of her only daughter, at the age of nineteen, as well as that
of her husband after a short illness, a few years subsequently, were
close trials to her; but she bowed in humble submission to these
dispensations, and, under the chastening hand of the Lord, it became
increasingly evident, that the "one thing needful" was steadily kept in
her view. She was diligent in her attendance of our religious meetings,
and often remarked, that she had been permitted to find in them "a
resting place to her soul."
After her second marriage, with Robert Waller of Holdgate near York, her
health, which for a long time had not been strong, began more rapidly to
decline, and at the death of her husband, after a long and protracted
illness, she was so complete an invalid, as to be chiefly confined to her
bed for many months together. This was a great trial upon her faith and
patience; but her hope and trust in her Saviour's love never forsook her,
and often through her long illness, she was enabled to look forward with
hope and joy to that time, when "absent from the body," she should be
"present with the Lord."
Six months after her husband's death, she was removed, in an invalid
carriage, to the residence of her eldest son in Essex, whose house
continued to be her home the remainder of her days. In writing to a much
beloved friend, from this quiet retreat soon after her arrival, she
remarks,--"Every comfort and every indulgence is allotted to me by my
attentive children. Oh what boundless demands upon my gratitude are thus
poured forth. I would gladly hope not without a heartfelt acknowledgment
to that Almighty Giver, who is the author of all our manifold mercies.
For all things I reverently thank my God and Saviour, remembering you my
dear friends, whom I have left, with the truest affection." To the same
friend, who herself was suffering from illness, she again writes, "Oh,
dearest ---, how many of His dear children does the Lord keep long in the
furnace, yet if he do but grant his presence there, and watch over the
refining process he designs to be accomplished, there ought to be no
complaining either of the length of time, or the severity of the
operation, but through all, the full fruits of resignation should be
brought forth in perfection, to his praise, and his glory. That so it
may be, my dear friend, forms a wish on my own account as well as on
thine, day by day. The time has appeared long to me, that I have been
required to lay under the rod, but when we measure time as did the
Apostle of old, and think of it as a vapour that quickly passeth away, or
as a shadow that abideth not, we see that it is but for a little moment
that our chastening can endure. I cannot forbear beholding my day as far
spent; but I do rejoice to see heaven as a place of rest for me,--yes,
even for me! through the blood shed for my sins on Calvary's Mount. This
mercy in Christ Jesus, how precious it is to dwell upon."
Alice Waller loved the company of all those that loved the Lord Jesus,
and especially the messengers of the gospel were acceptable to her. On
one occasion when receiving a visit from a friend, whilst laid upon her
bed of suffering, she, in great contrition, expressed her sense of her
heavenly Father's love and mercy to _her_, a poor creature, adding, "I
feel bound to tell of His marvellous goodness to me, even to me, by night
and by day upon my bed, in seasons of trial I have been comforted by my
Saviour's presence."