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%\t €mBmmtm of a iooir Pan's fife. 
 
 A SEEM ON, 
 
 DELIVERED IN THE 
 
 FIRST CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH, NORWICH, CONN., 
 
 HAY 2S, 1856, 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF 
 
 JAIES'STEDIAN, Esq. 
 
 BY H. P. ARMS. 
 
 •■'•"''•-■• ■•- Btquiat of tfie Jamilff. 
 
 NORWICH : 
 
 W. D. MANNING, PRINTER, 15J SHETUCKET STREET. 
 1856. 
 
PI Cornell University 
 J Library 
 
 The original of tiiis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924104035864 
 
C|t C0ttsttmmati0tt 0f a §00^ Pan's lift 
 
 A SERMON, 
 
 DELIVERED IN THE 
 
 FIRST CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH, NORWICH, CONN., 
 
 KAY 25, 1856, 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF 
 
 JAMES STEDIAN, Esq. 
 
 BY H. P. ARMS. 
 
 !utili8$etr is Bcrjuest of i^e JTanttlj)- 
 
 ~ NORWICH : 
 
 W. D. MANNING, PRINTER, 15J SHETUCKET STREET. 
 1856. 
 
SERMON. 
 
 PSALM xxxvii : 37. — " mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, 
 
 FOR THE END OF THAT MAN IS PEACE." 
 
 The Psalmist here points us to the consummation of a 
 good man's life. It is in striking contrast to that of the 
 wicked. The one is driven away in his wickedness; the 
 other hath hope in his death. The one shall perish; the 
 inheritance of the other shall be forever. The end of the 
 one is cut off ; the end of the other is peace. Nor is this an 
 arbitrary distinction. 
 
 The peaceful happy death of the righteous man is the le- 
 gitimate fruit, the logical result of his upright, godly life. 
 
 Such is the sentiment of the text. In proof of it, David 
 appeals to the common observation of men. The passing 
 events of God's providence demonstrate that a life character- 
 ized by integrity and uprightness is usually crowned at the 
 close with serene and bright anticipations of the future. 
 
 I. Mark the character of the righteous, described in the 
 text as perfect and upright. 
 
 These terms are employed as synonymous, and explanato- 
 ry of each other. The perfection here predicated of the 
 
righteous man is not entire freedom from sin. No man liveth 
 and sinneth not ; and yet the Scriptures ascribe perfection to 
 men. Job was a perfect man, and yet he sinned. He had 
 the elements of moral excellence, but uot in sufficient strength 
 to secure him from all error. Scriptural perfection consists 
 rather in completeness of parts, and symmetry of the whole, 
 than in perfect holiness. One may be endowed with all the 
 graces of the Spirit, and yet those graces may be immature, 
 and wanting that fullness of strength which belongs to the 
 highest grade of Christian piety. The perfect man is in the 
 text equivalent to the upright man ; one who is truly under 
 the control of right moral principles, who loves God supreme- 
 ly, and aims at obedience to our Saviour's golden rule in all 
 his intercourse with men. 
 
 In the beginning uprightness was man's birthright. He 
 was made in the image of God, and for a season adorned 
 himself with perfect holiness. All the passions of his soul 
 were in harmony with the divine will. All his powers, phys- 
 ical, intellectual and moral were in perfect subjection to the 
 divine command. As he came from the hand of his Maker 
 he was good, very good. 
 
 But man has fallen. His physical frame indeed still stands 
 erect, with countenance looking heaven- ward, to indicate his 
 former excellence ; but his moral powers are prostrate in the 
 dust. That higher life which was his birthright, and which 
 pervaded all the faculties of his soul, is extinct. In the day 
 that he transgressed God's law, and thus severed himself from 
 the parent stock, he died, and he remains dead in trespasses 
 and sins until, created anew in Christ Jesus, he is born again. 
 Then the moral image of God reappears in his soul. Love 
 to God, supreme, though not perfect as at the first, resumes 
 its dominion over him. This inward renewing of the Holy 
 Ghost, this washing of regeneration reveals itself in his out- 
 
ward conduct. While it restores his alliance to God, it re- 
 kindles in his soul love to men. And where true benevo- 
 lence reigns in the heart, it will find expression in acts of be- 
 neficence. " Love is the fulfilling of the law." The man 
 who owns its sway will walk humbly with his God, and up- 
 rightly toward his fellow men. The worship of God is his 
 delight, and practical obedience to the divine commands 
 his daily food. As a father, he will train his children to hab- 
 its of virtue and piety. He is the priest of his own house- 
 hold, and oflfers up their daily devotions. He imbues their 
 minds with the knowledge of God, and goes before them in 
 the path to heaven, teaching them by example as well as by 
 precept, that man's true happiness consists in doing good. 
 
 As a citizen, he will make his private interests yield to the 
 public good. He is the friend and patron of all those" educa- 
 tional, charitable and religious institutions, on which the wel- 
 fare of the community depends. 
 
 In the church he labors for its increase in purity, spiritual- 
 ity, efficiency and strength. In short, his influence is every 
 where felt for good. He makes his mark on the world. 
 
 But it is the end of the perfect, the upright man, to which 
 special reference is had in the text — for he has an end, a calm, 
 serene and joyful end. Yes, the end of that man is peace. 
 
 II. Let us then, in the second place, mark the peaceful 
 end of the righteous. 
 
 As he approaches the close of life, as he ascends the high- 
 lands which separate the visible from the invisible world — ^as 
 Moses went up to the top of Pisgah to view the promised 
 land and die — ^he is permitted to retrace the straight and ever 
 onward path by which he has reached the summit of these 
 delectable mountains, and at the same time to catch a glimpse 
 of the bright world on whose very confines he stands. In 
 
the review of his past course, in his present surroundings, and 
 in his future prospects, is much to inspire him with peace. 
 
 1. In the retrospect of his life is much to console and give 
 comfort to his departing spirit. 
 
 The most prominent object which meets his view, and oc- 
 cupies his thoughts, is the goodness of God. The tokens of 
 his Father's love are manifold and constantly recurring. 
 Goodness and mercy have followed him all the days of his 
 life. O, how good, how kind the Lord has been to him ! His 
 cup has overrun with blessing. Not that God has given him 
 perpetual sunshine, and uninterrupted prosperity. Trials he 
 has had in common with other men, and conflicts, which 
 have at times put to the test his power of endurance. But 
 in all these he finds nothing to regret. The adversities of 
 life have been so many blessings in disguise. The toils of 
 life have strengthened him for service and for suflTering in the 
 cause of his divine Master. The sorrows of life were neces- 
 sary to chasten his spirit and discipline it for heaven. He 
 now understands the meaning of the apostle James, where 
 he says : " Blessed is the man who eudureth temptation, 
 (i. e. trial,) for when he is tried he shall receive the crown of 
 life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love him." 
 Untried virtue is of little worth. Even Christ was tempted 
 in all points as we are, and the Captain of our salvation was 
 made perfect through suffering. The trial of the believer's 
 faith is much more precious than of gold that perisheth, and 
 will be found unto praise and honor and glory at the appear- 
 ing of Jesus Christ. It is necessary to give vigor and matu- 
 rity to his character. 
 
 The remembrance of his trials cannot disturb the serenity 
 of the closing scene. It will rather enhance his joys.* Like 
 the veterem warrior of a hundred battles, now reposing on his 
 
 ' Haec oKm tneminisse juvdht. 
 
laurels, he can look back to the conflicts of life as past and 
 never to return. He has fought a good fight, he has finished 
 his course, he has kept the faith. The contest may have 
 been severe, but this cannot move him, for he is conqueror 
 and more than conqueror. He has won the prize, and the 
 crown is ready to be placed on his brow. 
 
 He is at peace with the world. The conflicts of opinion 
 with men from whom he was compelled to differ, have left 
 no scars on his soul. He can now look out benignantly up- 
 on the world, and recognize in every man a brother. If one 
 feeling of resentment ever found a momentary lodging in his 
 breast, it has long since taken its flight, and love now reigns 
 supreme. By his integrity, kindness and beneficence he has 
 won the confidence and esteem of the community. The 
 world honors him for his uprightness, and is ready to ac- 
 knowledge its indebtedness to him for the many benefits 
 which he has bestowed upon it. It is grateful to his feelings, 
 as he draws toward the close of his career, to see those 
 whom he has benefitted by his counsels, his prayers, and his 
 benefactions, gather round him with tokens of respect and 
 gratitude, to cheer his departing spirit, and smooth his path- 
 way to the grave. 
 
 It affords him no little satisfaction to know that he has 
 helped to form the mind, and mould the character of men now 
 distinguished for their virtues and their usefulness ; so that 
 while he dies, he still lives in those who come after him. and 
 who will propagate the generous impulses of his soul to gen- 
 erations yet unborn. 
 
 Not even the remembrance of past errors can disturb his 
 peace, nor for one moment hide from him the light of God's 
 countenance ; for he calls to mind also the superabounding 
 grace which gives him assurance of pardon and acceptance. 
 Thus the review of the past ministers comfort and joy to his 
 departing spirit. 
 
8 
 
 2. In his present surroutulings, in the closing scene itself, 
 of a good man's life, is much to inspire him with peace. 
 
 True, it costs him a pang to sever the tie which has so 
 long bound him to a circle of loving friends. But while 
 death separates him from loved ones on earth, it reunites him 
 to those who have gone before to glory. And those who 
 survive will soon follow, so that all with whom he has had 
 christian fellowship on earth, will, after a momentary separa- 
 tion, rejoin his happy spirit in a brighter world. This hope 
 of a speedy reunion reconciles him to the present parting, and 
 plucks away the sling of death. 
 
 The pains of dissolution have little terror for him. They 
 are but for a moment, and are often much less severe than 
 they seem to anxious friends. Besides, where the soul is 
 stayed upon God, and cheered with a Saviour's presence, no 
 pains external to the mind, no sufferings of the flesh, can dis- 
 turb its peace. 
 
 The fact that his departure is at hand awakens no solici- 
 tude, for the love of life is giving place to a desire to depart 
 and be with Christ. He would not live-always. He has had 
 enough of life's toils and burdens, and with an unshaken hope 
 of heaven, he knows that " to die is gain." As the objects 
 of sense gradually fade from his sight, and the voices of earth 
 are no more heeded, brighter scenes open to his view, and the 
 music of heaven ravishes his ear. He now sees with other 
 eyes, and hears with other ears than pertain to mortality. 
 His spirit has already visions of heaven, while struggling to 
 free itself from the flesh. Sometimes he so far returns from 
 these confines of the heavenly world as to be able to tell of 
 the wonders he has seen, and the seraphic sounds he has 
 heard. Sometimes the only token of the rapture he experi- 
 ences, as he enters the threshold of bliss, is the celestial smile 
 which plays upon his countenance ; and sometimes it is in the 
 
incoherent half uttered sentences, which his friends mistake 
 for indications that his mind is wandering. His mind is in- 
 deed wandering, and far away — it is wandering from earth to 
 heaven. And while still cleaving to the body, it seems to 
 hold converse with the invisible world, and to commune with 
 those ministering spirits who are sent to bear him to his final 
 home, and to the bosom of his Saviour. 
 
 Here is seen tlie value of faith. It enables the believer 
 almost to put on immortality before he puts off the mortal. 
 It gives him firm foothold, even while the billows of death 
 roll over him. It fills his soul with peace and joy, and heav- 
 enly serenity ; while all around him is agitation, weeping and 
 distress. Earth does not elsewhere present so sublime a spec- 
 tacle, as that of the Christian thus meeting the king of terrors 
 undismayed, and rejoicing in hope full of immortality. This 
 is the hour of his triumph. The joys which cluster here are 
 worth a life time of toil and self denial. " Let me die the 
 death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his." 
 
 3. In addition to the rich consolations which the past and 
 the present pour into his bosom, the future also reveals to the 
 believer its choicest treasures. Allusion has already been 
 made to this topic, while speaking of present joys. It could 
 hardly be avoided, for the present, in itself considered, has no 
 duration. It is but the separating point between the past 
 and the future. From these two sources it mostly derives its 
 pleasures. While the past has much precious treasure laid up 
 in the store»house of memory, hope crowns the expiring saint 
 with bright anticipations of the future. All his joyful expe- 
 riences in this life are but the pledge of richer blessings to 
 come. As he approaches the borders of the promised land, 
 even before he crosses the narrow stream which ends his pil- 
 grimage, he gathers some rich clusters of its abounding fruit. 
 2 
 
10 
 
 It is no foreign land which he seeks, it is his own native 
 home, his paternal inheritance, confirmed to him by the prom- 
 ise and oath of God. For he is " born not of blood nor of 
 the will of man, but of God." The years of his minority 
 are ended, and he now comes in possession of the promised 
 inheritance. He is about to be clothed upon with his house 
 which is from heaven. A few hours more, perhaps a few 
 moments only, and he shall appear with Christ in glory — like 
 Christ, and recognized by this resemblance among all the 
 hosts of heaven, as belonging to Christ. 
 
 The Scriptures exhaust the power of language in deline- 
 ating the heavenly world. But its bliss is all summed up in 
 this likeness to Christ. To be near and like him who is al- 
 together lovely, this is the consummation of the believer's 
 wishes. Of this he has the promise and the foretaste. His 
 near proximity to all this glory and blessedness lifts him above 
 the fear of dissolution, and inspires him with " peace as a 
 river." 
 
 Thus do we see the past, the present and the future, all 
 conspiring to pour their treasures at the feet of the dying 
 Christian, and to fill his heart with joy unspeakable, and full 
 of glory. Truly, " the end of that man is peace." 
 
 In thus delineating the consummation of the believer's 
 course, we have no occasion to draw upon fancy. God in 
 his providence is furnishing us illustration of the truth which 
 constitutes the theme of the present discourse. 
 
 Last Sabbath morning, at about the hour when our Sav- 
 iour is supposed to have left the sepulcher, the senior ofiicer 
 of this church was summoned to meet that Saviour in his 
 temple above. 
 
 On the first Sabbath of the present month he was minis- 
 tering to you the symbols of the body and the blood of Christ. 
 Little did you then think it was the last time you should 
 
11 
 
 ever receive these sacred memorials at his hand. Had we 
 known how near he stood to heaven, and how soon he would 
 be a partaker of the glory shadowed forth in the holy supper, 
 it would have added solemnity and sacredness to the occa- 
 sion. Yet so it was. He was doing his last work, perform- 
 ing his last service to the church on earth. He might have 
 said to us in the words of our Saviour : " I will not drink 
 henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until the day when I 
 drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom." 
 
 The Lord had need of him for higher and holier offices 
 than serving tables, and he has left us to mourn that we shall see 
 his face no more. Among the last of the generation to which 
 he belonged, he has fallen asleep, and is gathered to his fathers. 
 
 An irreparable breach is made in his family, in the church, 
 and in the community. And yet we would not if we could, 
 call him back to earth. It was a kind, a merciful decree, 
 which released him from the toils of earth, and welcomed 
 him to the heavenly rest, before the infirmities of age had 
 become a burden. 
 
 " Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end 
 of that man is peace." 
 
 It is not my purpose to pronounce his eulogy. His family 
 do not wish it; he has no need of it. Yet it is due to the 
 position which he occupied as a public man, as well as to his 
 private worth, that a brief outline be given of his history, 
 and some facts noted in his long and useful life, for the in- 
 struction of survivors. 
 
 James Stedman was descended from a pious ancestry. He 
 was the son of Thomas Stedman, of Hampton, in this State ; 
 a man who is still remembered in that region with the high- 
 est veneration for his stern integrity, and unbending Christian 
 principles. He had ten children, of whom James was for 
 some years the sole survivor. He designed him for the 
 
12 
 
 Christian ministry, and in early life offered to educate him for 
 that purpose. But the lad, with characteristic self-diffidence 
 declined the offer, on the ground that he wanted evidence of 
 his regeneration, and of that decided Christian character, 
 which he justly regarded as an essential pre-requisite to the 
 sacred office. 
 
 He could appreciate, however, the advantages of a liberal 
 education, and when he was seventeen years of age, he en- 
 tered Yale College, where he distinguished himself for his 
 scholarship, under the presidency of Dr. Dwight. 
 
 Among his class mates, still living, are Thomas K. Brace, 
 Henry Dwight, Joseph Trumbull, and Joseph Wood ; and of 
 the dead, Peter Hitchcock, and John W. Peril. 
 
 Among his cotemporaries and intimate friends in college, 
 he numbered Isaac C. Bates, Jeremiah Evarts, Ssimuel Hub- 
 bard, Pelatiah Perit, and other names distinguished both in 
 Church and in State. His early association with such men, 
 and the lasting friendship which subsisted between them, 
 contributed not a little to the formation of his character. 
 
 He was graduated with the honors of his cltiss in 1801. 
 The two subsequent years were spent in teaching a school in 
 Charlestown, Mass., during which time he was an inmate of 
 the family of the late venerable Dr. Morse. 
 
 At the expiration of this time, he was appointed Tutor in 
 Yale College. This chair of instruction he occupied three 
 years. Among his associates in office were the late Prof. 
 Kingsley, Prof. Stuart, and Prof. Silliman who still survives. 
 
 He numbered among his pupils men who have distinguish- 
 ed themselves in the various learned professions. By his in- 
 structions and kind discipline he helped to form the charac- 
 ters of such men as Thomas H. Gallaudet, Thomas S. Grimke, 
 Heman Humphrey, Gardner Spring, Richard S. Storrs, 
 and Nathaniel W. Taylor. In these men, and in their con- 
 
13 
 
 tributions to sound learning and true religion, he still lives, 
 and will' continue to live, long after that manly form which 
 we have committed to the grave shall have mouldered back 
 to dust. 
 
 The impressions made upon a young man's mind, and the 
 impulses given to it during his college course, are usually 
 permanent. Fifty years ago these impressions and impulses 
 were more dependent than now upon individual influence. 
 In those days, one tutor had almost the entire charge of a class 
 during three years of their residence in college, and thus had 
 opportunity to impress his own image on their plastic minds. 
 The respect and veneration which the pupils of Mr. Stedman 
 are known to cherish for him, bear witness to his fidelity as 
 a teacher. 
 
 He was an accurate scholar, and had great facility in com- 
 municating instruction. He loved the employment, and since 
 he established himself here in the practice of the law, he has 
 had the training of many young men, both professional and 
 general students, some of whom are now occupying posts of 
 influence and usefulness in the country. Others have finish- 
 ed their course and gone before him to their final rest. 
 Among the latter is the late Henry Strong, who cherished 
 for him to the last, the respect and affection which are due to 
 an elder brother. 
 
 His own professional studies he pursued under the tuition 
 of the late Theodore Dwight, of Hartford. 
 
 In his domestic relations he was peculiarly happy. Forty- 
 five years of conjugal life can testify to his aff"ectionate fidel- 
 ity as a husband ; and it must afford to the bereaved widow 
 a mournful pleasure to recall, . in her loneliness, the remem- 
 brance of his private virtues. Thus she may find consola- 
 tion in the very topics which remind her most vividly of the 
 greatness of her loss. 
 
14 
 
 As a father, he was what Paul required a ruler in the church 
 to be : " one that ruled well his own house, having his chil- 
 dren in subjection with all gravity." The reins were in his 
 own hands, and yet the subjects of his domestic rule had no 
 occasion to complain of undue rigor in its administration. 
 He bound them to him by the strong ties of confidence and 
 affection. He was a fond father. He lived for his children 
 as well as in them, and they are ail ready to-day, those of 
 them who survive, (for one is not.) to rise up and call him 
 blessed, and to ascribe their success in life very much to their 
 early training. 
 
 He was a friend to the poor, to the fatherless, and him 
 that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was 
 ready to perish came upon him, and he caused many a wid- 
 ow's heart to sing for joy. Few men could with more pro- 
 propriety adopt the language of Job, and say, " I was eyes 
 to the blind, and feet was I to the lame. I was a father to 
 the poor, and the cause which I knew not I searched out. 
 And I brake the jaws of the wicked, and plucked the spoil 
 out of his teeth." His professional services, his private chari- 
 ties, and the almost unbounded hospitality of his house, were 
 put in requisition to relieve the unfortunate, and to vindicate 
 the oppressed. 
 
 He had often represented the town in our State Legisla- 
 ture, and had been at the time of his death, for many years, 
 Clerk of the Courts of New London County. 
 
 The confidence which the public reposed in his legal at- 
 tainments, his sound judgment and tried integrity, caused him 
 to be frequently selected as arbitrator in difficult cases, and to 
 be employed in the settlement of estates. 
 
 Of the fidelity and ability with which he discharged the 
 various trusts reposed in him, I have no need to speak. The 
 integrity and trustworthiness with which he managed the 
 
15 
 
 public interests that he had in charge, have never been ques- 
 tioned. The financial affairs of the Church and of the Soci- 
 ety have for many years been in his hands, and the prosper- 
 ous condition in which he leaves them, testifies both to his 
 wisdom and faithfulness in their administration. 
 
 It only remains to speak of him as a Christian. 
 
 Of his early religious impressions I am not informed. It 
 would seem however, that under the training of Christian 
 parents, his conscience was educated aright, and that from his 
 youth up, the convictions of his understanding were on the 
 side of evangelical, experimental religion. When he had a 
 family of his own he at once instituted family worship, which 
 he ever after scrupulously maintained. He was careful to in- 
 struct his children in the knowledge of the Bible, and of the 
 Assembly's Catechism, — two volumes which have done more 
 to form the character of New England, than all the other 
 books which were ever written. So exemplary was his de- 
 portment in these respects, long before he made a profession 
 of religion, that persons trained in his own family never 
 doubted his piety, or suspected that he was not a member of 
 the church. 
 
 Soon after the Sabbath School was organized in this place, 
 he became one of its most efficient teachers. During a sea- 
 son of special religious interest, in 1830, his whole class, it 
 is believed, under his faithful instruction, became hopeful 
 converts to Christ. This fact, by the blessing of God, 
 awakened deep solicitude in his mind respecting his own 
 spiritual condition, lest, after having taught others, and led 
 them to Christ, he should himself be a cast-away. The re- 
 sult of this anxiety was a decided and open avowal of his 
 faith in Christ, and a public profession of religion, which he 
 has ever since faithfully maintained. From this period of his 
 life he dated his saving experience of religion, and his hope 
 of heaven. 
 
16 
 
 In his theological views he was a Calvinist of the New 
 England School, and a firm believer iu those doctrines of 
 grace which underlie the cheiracter of the sons of the Pil- 
 grims. 
 
 His views of ecclesiastical polity were iu accordance with 
 the fathers of New England. The principles of our Con- 
 gregational Churches he adopted and defended as most in ac- 
 cordance with primitive usage, and best adapted to our re- 
 publican institutions. And yet he was no bigot. He would 
 exclude none from his Christian fellowship, who gave evi- 
 dence of piety, though they could not subscribe to every 
 iota of his creed, or adopt the simple forms of worship and 
 church organization which he preferred. Such exclusive- 
 ness was alike foreign to his own convictions, and to the 
 principles of the Church which nurtured him. 
 
 The estimate in which his Christian character was held by 
 his brethren may be inferred from the trust which they re- 
 posed in him. In 1837 he was unanimously elected to the 
 office of Deacon. He had previously been the treasurer of 
 the Church, and a member of the standing committee. All 
 these offices he held at the time of his death. Nor had the 
 Church ever occasion to regret the confidence thus reposed 
 in him. 
 
 It will be seen from this brief sketch, that he bore an im- 
 portant part in our public affairs, and that many interests are 
 affected by his removal. 
 
 A word touching the closing scene and I have done. 
 
 His end was peace. It came with little premonition, and 
 yet it found him ready. His work was done, and well done ; 
 his mission on earth was accomplished. He had only to bid 
 a brief adieu to friends and kindred, and then cheerfully 
 obey the summons which called him to his final rest. As 
 he saw the time of his departure at hand, he showed no 
 
17 
 
 symptom of alarm, but reposing like a little child on the bo- 
 som of his Saviour, quietly sunk to rest. 
 
 The language of the twenty- third Psalm, which from his 
 earliest recollections had been imprinted on his heart, and 
 which he had taught to his children, as one of the first les- 
 sons to be learned, now afforded delightful utterance to his 
 trust in God, and the overflowing of his gratitude and love. 
 A member of his family repeated to him : 
 
 " The Lord is my Shepherd." 
 
 Immediately he responded : 
 
 " I shall not want." 
 
 The next clause was recited : 
 
 " He maketh me to lie down in green pastures." 
 
 Agaiii he responded : 
 
 " He leadeth me beside the still waters." 
 
 In this way the whole Psalm was rehearsed. 
 
 At a later hour, just as he was sinking in the embrace of 
 . death, among the last words which were heard to fall from 
 his lips, feeble and indistinct, were these : " rod — staff — com- 
 fort — " and that voice was hushed to perpetual silence. But 
 the departing spirit had a rod and a staff on which to lean, 
 and hence feared no evil. 
 
 " Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the 
 end of that man is peace." 
 
 Here was no scene got up for effect, no hallucination of a 
 mind unconscious of its own acts, but the calm self-posses- 
 sion of a good man passing through the great crisis of his 
 existence, with humble confidence in God, and unshaken re- 
 liance upon the mediation and atonement of Jesus Christ. 
 
 The esteem in which he was held by his fellow citizens 
 was expressed in the throng which assembled at his burial, 
 and followed his remains in long procession to the grave. 
 3 
 
18 
 
 As we laid him dowa in his quiet resting place, and then 
 turned in sadness away, could the sentiment of the retiring 
 crowd have found utterance in a single word, it would have 
 been : 
 
 " Peace to the memory of a man or worth." 
 
 And now, my hearers, in conclusion, would you encounter 
 death with a like serenity of mind, would you have your en- 
 trance to eternity divested of all terror, meet your Saviour in 
 the dark valley and find him the rod and the staff of your 
 soul, you must shape your present course with reference to 
 such an end. Would you have the presence of Christ to 
 cheer you in death, you must walk with him while you live. 
 Think not to spend your life in pursuit of the vanities of the 
 world, and in the end to enjoy the consolations of religion. 
 
 Men die as they live. A peaceful, happy death, is not a 
 special dispensation of God's providence. It is the legiti- 
 mate result of a life devoted to his service. It is the perfect 
 man, and the upright, whose end is peace. 
 
 Walk in the footsteps of those who through faith and pa- 
 tience inherit the promises, and you too shall triumph over 
 the last enemy. You shall find him disarmed of his sting, 
 and powerless to harm you. Angels shall minister to your 
 departing spirit, while it yet lingers on these shores of mor- 
 tality ; and as it wings its way to the upper world, Christ will 
 own you among his chosen, welcome you to the green pas- 
 tures, and bid you repose forever beside the still waters of 
 Paradise. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 REMARKS AT THE GRAVE. 
 
 " The fathers, where are they ?" One after another has 
 fallen, till the dead far outnumber the living. 
 
 The venerable man, whose remains we are depositing in 
 the grave, was one of the few survivors of the generation to 
 which he belonged. We had hoped that he might be spared 
 to us for a few years longer. We needed the counsels of his 
 age and of his experience. He was a pillar of the Church, 
 and for nineteen years its oldest office-bearer. Though he 
 had passed the period of three score years and ten, he had 
 not outlived his usefulness. He was still in the vigor of a 
 green old age, and in the active discharge of the various of- 
 fices of trust, which the confidence and good judgment of 
 his fellow citizens and his fellow Christians bestowed upon 
 him. 
 
 Let these mourning relatives console themselves with the 
 thought that their friend, father, husband, fell with his armor 
 on, in the active service of his country and of his God. 
 
 In the last conversation which it was my privilege to have 
 with him, he expressed the determination, should he recover, 
 
22 
 
 his profession in Xorwich, in the year 180G. He remained in Norwich till 
 the time of his death, and was honored by his fellow citizens with various 
 offices of trust in the State and the Church, which were ever fulfilled by 
 him with the high integrity of a Christian man. Mr. Stednian, tliough 
 actively engaged in the duties of his profession, retained his love for tJie 
 studies of his early life, and was always a classical scholar of accurate and 
 varied endowments. As an educator of youth, he was remarkably apt and 
 successful ; and not a few of our eminent public men acknowledge the debt 
 they owe him for the skiU and care with which he directed their early 
 studies. As a man he was eminent for noble virtues ; his unbounded gen- 
 erosity, his hatred of oppression, his scorn of meanness of whatever kind, 
 his mmute integrity, the strength of his attachments, the fervor of his 
 feelings, which age itself never lessened, made him a man to bo both trust- 
 ed and loved. As a Christian he was a pillar in the Church, where for 
 many years he was a Deacon, and active and earnest in works of niorcy 
 and piety. He died in the fulness of years, while yet his eye was not 
 dimmed nor his natural force abated. Death met him suddenly, but could 
 not meet him unprepared. Whep made aware that his end was near, he 
 liad no thought of making preparation, but said that he was, through 
 Christ's love, even now ready; and passed into heaven while the words of 
 faith were yet lingering on his dying lips. 
 
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