tance, and is of too great magnitude for the parish Church. From the preceding anecdotes our readers will be prepared to expect considerable caution and a prudent system in the distribution of his charities. A main object with him in his own parish was to do nothing which might entail a permanent bur. then on his successor, whose cir eumstances might not enable him to bear it so well as his own. Ano ther rule was to avoid as much as possible absolute gifts, but to make the party relieved in some measure earn his charity by labour, or other compensation, however unequal in proportion. Thus he established a shop in the central part of his pa rish, for the sale of strong and com mon articles of clothing at a reduced price; he built a granary, in which he laid up corn at the cheap season, and sold it at a reduced rate to the poor in seasons of scarcity. The fuel of the lower orders of the parish is, in general, the turf and peat cut from Dartmoor, and there stacked to dry; but in wet seasons the ground is too soft to allow this to be brought home. On such occasions he stimulated all the farmers and the gentry to join in the supply of coals; the former, who were sufficiently obliged to him in the matter of tithes, freely rendered their assistance in drawing them home from Plymouth, a distance of eleven miles, while the latter willingly co-operated with him in supplying the means of purchasing them; and these were sold to the poor at as low a price as the turf and peat would ordinarily have cost. Education, food, and medicine for the ignorant, the poor, and the sick, he attempted to provide in his life-time, partly by a school, which he built and supported, and partly by his personal relief and attendance; and he left an estate in the parish, and a sum of money for the maintenance of the school after his death, and the supply of medical attendance for the sick and poor not receiving re lief from the parish. Mr. Yonge could not be called a deep scholar, his education had been too irregular, and his habits of life too practical and active to admit of that; but his general literary aequirements were very respectable. His reading was various and extensive, and in his own profession embraced the deepest authors; what he read, he understood clearly and remembered distinctly; the effects were visible in his sermons and conversation, though there was a total absence of all ostentatious exhibition of learning. He from time to time published short addresses to his parishioners and the lower or ders, in vindication of religious truths and practice, which were, like his own character, manly, sensible, and simple; he published also an admirable manual for the use of the prisoners in the county gaol *. We feel that we have already extended this Memoir to a great length, yet very interesting part of it remains to be written. In one of the extracts which we have given, it has been seen, that he acknowledges gratefully the blessing of good health; this he had enjoyed for more than seventy years, his great temperance strengthening a frame in itself but slender; when about November 1822, he began to perceive some difficulty of breathing; this was at first but occasional and trifling; but in the spring of 1823, it made considerable advances, and symptoms of a disease of the heart began to shew themselves. At this time it was thought proper to communicate to him the precariousness of his situation, which he easily perceived; and he had so lived, that death could not come upon him wholly unprepared. It was now, however, his main object to set his This latter Tract has been recently placed on the Catalogue of the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge. house in order, and to make himself ready for his departure, not merely by prayer and meditation, but by the active performance still of every duty to which his strength was equal. On a loose scrap of paper was found the following prayer, probably written at this time. "O merciful God, to whom I owe every blessing, which I have received, have mercy upon me; pardon, O Lord, for thy blessed Son Jesus Christ's sake, the manifold offences by which, in the frailty of my flesh, I have in thought, word, or deed, offended against thee. I heartily confess my transgressions both of omission and commission; let the blood-shedding of my Sa. viour blot them out, that they appear not against me at the day of judgment. And if it be thy good pleasure that my present sickness be unto death, strengthen and support me in the hour of trial, that I may bless thee to the last for all thy bounty, and resigned, without a murmur, to thy dispensation, hear tily pray that thy will may be done. Extend thy blessings to my wife and children, support them with thy aid in their affliction, nourish them through this life in all goodness, and finally bring them to everlasting happiness, through Jesus Christ." At the same time he was anxious, while his ztrength remained, to preach once more to his parishioners; in the execution of this trying task, he displayed the same simplicity, and manly good sense, which characterized him on every other occasion; he did not seek an opportunity to shed or excite useless tears, or to make a theatrical display; he was alone intent on producing a useful result. He did not once advert to his own situation, or take a formal farewell. His text was, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart," &c.; the love of God he considered the proper foundation of all religion, the proper motive of all actions, and he was anxious once more to press this doctrine upon those who had for so long a time been specially committed to his care. Once, for a moment, in exhorting his flock to this fundamental duty, his feelings overcame him; but the intensity of his spirit bore him up, and he delivered his last sermon with more than usual energy and power. During the summer his complaint increased upon him, and the members of his family assembled round him, but imperious duties prevented some of them from remaining long with him. On the same paper from which we copied the last prayer, we find also the following:-" 1 bless thee, O God, that I have lived to see my dear children once more all assembled together; O preserve them, I beseech thee, by thy Grace, from all evil that may endanger their everlasting salvation; watch over and protect my boys who have now left me, and train them up in virtue, truth, and righteousness; so guide them all by thy providence that they may set their hearts upon thee, their affections upon things above, and having in godly soberness and virtue passed through this life, receive them, O Lord, to thine eternal glory, through the merits of Jesus Christ.' In the rapid advances which his disorder made, his strength and bodily activity declined apace; so long as he was able, he persevered in dining with his family down stairs; but he had much suffering to undergo, the effects of the complaint, among others, being nervous and depres sing. He began to pray earnestly for his release, fearing that he might not have fortitude and patience enough for a protracted trial. For the last three months of his life he was confined to his bed-room, where he was too weak to interest himself in reading; but in discussing and en. forcing the doctrines of Christianity, in pointing out to his children the duties of life, and in dwelling on the goodness of God, he lost all sense of weakness, and seemed to exert increased earnestness and power. At the close of these conversations he would often say, "I cannot account for my feelings, I cannot express how comfortable, how composing are these conversations to me; I could go on for hours talking thus. Tedious and distressing as every minute commonly is, I am astonished to find how time has run on. Such tranquillity and absence of pain I did not expect while alive. I thank my God for it, my dear and merciful God and Saviour." Even at this time he neglected none of the duties of his parish which he was capable of performing in his bed-room; and only a very few days before his death he regulated the provision of fuel for the poor for the winter. His family preserve as a relic his last hand-writing; the subject of it was in character with all the rest that we have narrated; it was as follows:-"Faith-most firmly I believe that my Saviour Jesus Christ came into the world as the promised seed, through whom all nations of the earth should be blessed, according to the promise of God; and by his precious blood-shedding on the cross, confer on all the world the benefits of his Passion. Most firmly (almost with the faith of a martyr) do I believe his impressive declaration to Mary, whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die; he that believeth and is baptized shall be saved;' this is the"-here he laid down his pen through weakness, and said, "I can write no more." This was written on the 29th of November; his end was fast approaching. On the 2d of December several of his children, and one nephew, to whom he had been a father, and who loved him as a child, were assembled round his bed after dinner, and he renewed a conversation which he had engaged in on the morning; the subject was the necessity of making the love of God the motive of all our actions. This was his favourite doctrine, it had been, as we have seen, the text for his last sermon; and he had, in the course of a long life, well spent, gradually made it become the ruling principle of all his thoughts, words, and deeds. He founded it on the love of God to man; the inconceivable immensity of which, he would say, had more often brought him to a pause, than all the objections of all the sceptics which he had ever heard or read. Upon this occasion he said, "he was anxious they should all know what a different view he entertained of life and eternity, now that he was on the point of quitting the world, from that which he once had, though he had always endeavoured to look on life in its true light. Many of my actions," said he, "which were undertaken as commendable, which my reason seemed to approve at the time, now wear a very different aspect; for although they did not spring up from any bad impulse, yet they seem now to have been deficient in that true groundwork of Christian conduct, the love of God." Again and again he repeated, "I entreat you, my dearest children, always to love God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength, not partially and with uncertainty, but wholly and with all your heart. I," said he, " have not loved God on all occasions, as I hope I should do if life were to come over again, for my whole life has been one uninterrupted course of blessings. God, indeed, deserves our love in a way that far exceeds our comprehension, but still we may bring ourselves to love him far beyond all other things. He has directed us to call him our Fatherthese two words speak volumes; they are the most perfect representation of God's dealing towards us that can be conceived." After a pause, he entreated them always to make religion a cheerful service; "moroseness and austerity," said he, "are no parts of religion. Serve God and be cheerful, was Bishop Hopkins's exhortation, and it is the only way to be so. (This was a favourite saying of his.) I have myself always been brisk and cheerful I may say volatile-but I could never perceive much of real cheerfulness in the gaieties and nonsense of the world; be not conformed, but be ye transformed,' and I now see more than ever how deceitful they are." About this time a rattling in his throat was heard. "I may be mistaken," he said calmly, "but I think this tells me I shall not be much longer here, but I may be deceived. There is one point on which I now wish to lay a particular stress; and I entreat you all, whom I love to my heart, to attend to what I say; it is a very common fault, that cannot be too much discouraged; speaking ill of people behind their backs-evil speaking-all are prone to it; but considering how much we need forgiveness ourselves, surely we should be sparing to the faults of others." When he had dwelt on this for some time, and with great earnestness, he prayed for a blessing upon all; and taking each separately by the hand, prayed that the love of God might rest upon them. "I will not detain you longer with the palaver of a dying old man," said he, "though I could run on for hours on this subject." He then desired that little D(his eldest grandchild, a girl of 15) might be brought to him, and lifting up his eyes, when she was announced, said to her-" Ah, my little D, are you old enough to remember the words of your dying grandfather? Let me entreat of you to love God beyond every thing; to love him with all your heart, and all your soul, and all your strength; do not let any thing ever prevail REMEMBRANCEB, No. 63. with you to forget his love; let your religion always make you cheerful and lively." Again he would have dismissed his children, but they were unwil ling to leave him; after a few observations, he said, "that although he confessed the imperfections of his obedience, he still hoped for happiness, and anticipated it humbly, through the merits of a blessed Redeemer. That he had no fear to die, and trusted he should meet them all in the kingdom of heaven." Then with great fervour and animation he repeated several times, "God bless you all-God bless you all." As they left the room slowly, and deeply affected, he said, almost with a gaiety of manner and tone, "You see I am like old Seneca, moralizing at my last moments, and wishing for my release; i would not procrastinate it, if I could.” He did not sleep much that night, as his breathing was difficult; on the next day he was much weaker, and spoke but little; at two a more decided alteration became visible; two or three times in a whisper he said, "I am dying;" and at four be was found to have "fallen asleep ;" though at what particular moment it was difficult to say, so easy was his departure. It may easily be imagined that the death of such a man, though long expected, would excite a strong sen sation in his parish and vicinity. All ranks and classes were anxious to testify their sorrow, and do honour to his memory; on the day of the funeral the neighbouring clergy and gentry, at the request of the family, forbore, indeed, to come to the parsonage, but they fell in with the simple procession on foot in the road; the parishioners were all in their places in the church. It was an affecting sight, literally a weeping parish, with one heart and soul lamenting for their heavy loss. Nothing could exceed the decent and A a respectful exhibition of sorrow; the silence in so large an assemblage was only broken by the voice of the minister, and now and then the escape of bursting grief from some At quitting the grave, the people separated and went their way so mournfully and so quietly, that on looking up and seeing no one, it was diffi. cult for a moment to fancy so many had been there. one of the nearer mourners. We have now performed our task, an interesting task certainly to ourselves, we trust neither uninteresting or useless to others. It is hardly necessary to sum up the character we have have drawn, there is a singleness and uniformity about it which speak for themselves. His children and friends will doubtless remember, with gratitude and delight, how happy he was in his life, and how blessed in his death-that God gave him the good things of the world in sufficiency for his own comforts, and for distribution to the wants of others; a frame of body healthful and active; and a mind elas tic and industrious ; numerous friends; a united family, unsullied character; a heart penetrated with the love of God, faith unmoved by ridicule, unseduced by temptation, unawed by danger; hope that failed him- not even in the pains of death, and charity that was never exhausted. These will be their afterthoughts, their great and enduring consolations, consolations that survive grief, or turn it into pious joy ; for others, if we were to select the point of his character which might be most useful as a subject of imi tation, it would be his persevering endeavour to fill his whole soul with the love of God; for this endeavour, once successful, was the fruitful source of all his other virtues; the love of God, the contemplation of his goodness, the meditation of his promises, made him set the true value on all worldly objects; it made him bold in the face of vicious example, persevering under sinful temptation, cheerful in all trials, charitable and affectionate to all men as fellow objects of the Divine bounty and love. MONTHLY REGISTER. Society for Promoting Christian THE SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRIS- |