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 PREACHED AT 
 
 KINGSCHAPEL, BOSTON. 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES FREEMAN 
 
 SAMUEL GARY. 
 
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 .^rota^y of Cort^^^^ 
 
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 BOSTON : 
 
 PRIXTED BY SE^yELL PHELPS, NO. 5, COURT STREET. 
 
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SERMON I. 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF MRS. SUSAN BULFINCH, 
 RELICT OF THOMAS BULFINCH, M. D. 
 
 REVELATION xiv. 13, 
 
 blessed are the dead who die in the lord from 
 
 henceforth: yea, saith the spirit, that they may 
 rest from their labours j and their m'orks do fol- 
 LOW THEM. 
 
 THE life of every human being is a trust con- 
 fided to hira by his Creator, to be withdrawn at his 
 pleasure, and to be used well, while it is permitted 
 to continue. We know that our powers must be 
 laid down in the grave. And that we can look 
 forward to such an event without insupportable 
 terrour; that we can overcome the reluctance with 
 which the body submits to dissolution by consid- 
 erations that affect the mind, by animating views 
 of futurity, by hopes that are well founded, and 
 promises that cannot be violated or forgotten — is a 
 privilege for which we are indebted to Christianity. 
 
4 SERMON 1. 
 
 From henceforth they who die in the Lord are 
 blessed. From henceforth^ that is, as I understand 
 it, from the time when Christ overcame death, and 
 tore off the veil which enveloped him, and taught 
 mankind that the change they so much dreaded, 
 was a mere introduction to an improved state of 
 existence ; — the fears of the upright and their un- 
 certainty should cease. The life, which is about 
 to be withdrawn, will be restored, a more valuable 
 gift, hereafter. The perishable form, whose uses 
 on earth are ended, will revive and be immortal. 
 The internal sources of felicity, the powers, the 
 affections, the virtues, which are to be closed up 
 by death, will again send forth streams, forever 
 fresh and inexhaustible. 
 
 The change which is effected by death is, how- 
 ever, considered by the text as a blessing to those 
 only, who die in the Lord. Who then are these per- 
 sons, and why is their departure out of this life a 
 blessing ? These are the topics of my discourse. 
 
 I. Ft is probable that these words have some 
 particular reference to those heroic Christians of 
 antiquity, who defended the cause of their Master 
 through the miseries of a most sanguinary perse- 
 cution, and who laid down their lives, expecting to 
 be rewarded with the crown of martyrdom. But 
 the language is applicable to all, who have lived 
 
SERMON I. 5 
 
 and died in the faith and hope of the gospel ; who 
 have reverenced the God and Father of Jesus, and 
 kept his commandments, and ingrafted his spirit 
 upon their own hearts. To die in the Lord, or 
 which is the same thing in the Christian faith, in 
 such manner as to be entitled to the Christian pri- 
 vileges at the resurrection, it is necessary to have 
 acted worthy of this faith, to have maintained an 
 invariable love of Christ, and to have devoted life 
 to his service. 
 
 Now the love, which a true Christian cherishes 
 for his Master, is founded on a regular, devout 
 contemplation of the excellence of his character, 
 and of his sublime acts of beneficence. Jesus has 
 gone whither our senses cannot reach him. He is 
 known to us only by what he has done for our 
 felicity, and by what he taught. His disciples 
 therefore delight to dwell upon his image, as they 
 find it delineated in the scriptures ; they seek to 
 imbibe some portion of his spirit ; they aim to walk 
 in their different vocations, as he himself walked, 
 or as he would have directed them ; they treasure 
 up his precepts in their memories ; they suffer no 
 day to pass by, without recurring to this favourite 
 subject of contemplation, and without additional 
 efforts to resemble their venerated model more 
 perfectly. 
 
6 SERMON 1. 
 
 Their love is steady, profound, sincere ; — uncon- 
 querable by adversity or by death. They find 
 themselves perhaps compelled to endure more se- 
 vere sufleiinfrs than fall to the lot of others : their 
 bereavements may be peculiarly afflictive, their 
 hearts frequently and deeply vrounded, their means 
 of beneficence abridged or cut off, their fidelity and 
 perseverance requited unjustly. Yet none of these 
 things ever move them. The spirit of the apostles 
 and martyrs, that pure love of Christ, which for- 
 bade them to shrink for a moment from their duty, 
 attaches these Christians to his cause with equal 
 enthusiasm. They remember the exalted charac- 
 ter of him whom they serve, the intimate commu- 
 nion which subsisted between him and his Father, 
 the unrivalled powers with which his Father in- 
 vested him ; — that he was a mediator or messenger 
 of kindness from the Supreme Being to a depraved 
 world, qualified most amply and most perfectly to 
 reconcile sinners to their offended Creator, to save, 
 as it is expressed, to the utmost all who come unto 
 God by him; that he is the appointed Judge of 
 mankind at the last day, and will be the author of 
 eternal salvation to those who obey him. 
 
 They delight to consider what Christ has actu- 
 ally added to their enjoyments, how much they 
 owe to his voluntary humiliation, his victory over 
 the world and its temptations, his submission to a 
 
SERMON I. 7 
 
 life of misery. They foel that whatever safety is 
 to be found under the influence of an immaculate 
 system of moral and religious truth ; whatever 
 consolation in the assurance that the repenting 
 sinner will find forgiveness in heaven; whatever 
 support is given to our virtue, and comfort to our 
 sorrows in the certainty of a future state of letri- 
 bution and felicity — are the gift of this great ben- 
 efactor of the human race, who did not hesitate for 
 their sakes to sacrifice his life. — They who live in 
 Christ and are devoted to Christ, are familiar with 
 these truths. Their reverence and their gratitude 
 make them habitually attentive to his honour. 
 They are jealous with a godly jealousy, lest it 
 should be wounded by the neglect of friends or by 
 the scorn of enemies. They feel an attempt to 
 diminish that exalted veneration, which they believe 
 to be his due, more sensibly than an indignity offer- 
 ed to themselves. 
 
 With such views, and such love to their Saviour, 
 these Christians are assiduous in studying the 
 books which contain his instructions, that their 
 faith may be confirmed, that they may be able to 
 give a reason for what they believe, that their views 
 of Christian truth may be distinct and enlightened. 
 They do this with a fair and faithful application of 
 the powers which God has given them ; conscious 
 that there are difficulties in the search for truth ; 
 
8 SERMON I. 
 
 fearful lest undue prepossessions may Influence 
 them too strongly ; and with hearts raised to the 
 Fountain of all wisdom to guide their inquiries, 
 and save them from falling into any dangerous 
 errour. They are humble, because they feel that 
 human beings can know but in part ; they are 
 tolerant, from a sense of their own fallibility and 
 infirmities ; they are candid and affectionate to 
 those who view the gospel with other eyes, be- 
 cause this was the very spirit of their benevolent 
 Master. 
 
 Their love of truth leads them to encourao;e all 
 judicious endeavours to clear up the obscurities of 
 the scriptures. They are interested in those an- 
 cient manners and customs and traits of character, 
 those modes of speaking and thinking and acting, 
 which were familiar to the sacred writers, and to 
 which there are continual allusions. They delight 
 to trace the progress of the divine dispensations 
 to mankind ; to observe the manner in which the 
 love of God has been manifested in different peri- 
 ods ; the progress of human society, of its know- 
 ledge and its virtue, till that star at length arose in 
 the East, by whose influence the nations are healed, 
 by whose light they are guided, — that star which 
 can never set and never be extinguished. 
 
 This devotedness of heart to Christ is the source 
 of innumerable good actions and of the most es- 
 
SERMON 1. 9 
 
 tlraable moral qualities. They know that Jesus 
 did not prove his love to God by mere habits of 
 contemplation, but by activity and usefulness. His 
 example, his diligence, the virtues which he loved 
 and the course which he pursued, are constantly 
 before their eyes. They are dissatisfied with them- 
 selves when time has been consumed in indolence, 
 and soraethino; which oufxht to have been done, 
 has been neglected. This feeling always rouses 
 them to exertion. They call to mind their duties 
 and their responsibility. They feel the trust which 
 God has committed to them in their children, their 
 connexions, their dependants ; in the vicious, whom 
 it is in their power to reform, the ignorant, whom 
 their knowledge can enlighten, the indigent, whom 
 their affluence can relieve. They consider that 
 the life of Jesus was a life of beneficence, and they 
 seek to promote the cause in which he laboured, 
 the cause of virtue, the cause of social happiness, 
 by their instructions and their example. 
 
 They know that their influence in society is one 
 of those talents which is given by God to be used 
 well, and for which they are responsible ; that their 
 good or bad actions, their language, their deport- 
 ment is observed and imitated ; that it is important 
 therefore to be guarded and circumspect in their 
 behaviour, to encourage no malignity, no danger- 
 ous or unsocial habits by expressions of approba- 
 2 
 
10 SERMON I. 
 
 tion or smiles of complacency ; to be condescend- 
 irio' to the weak, and kind to those Avhose intentions 
 are pure though their manners may be repuLsive ; 
 to bring forth excellencies that are concealed by 
 timidity ; to be attentive to the necessities, the in- 
 iirmities, the feelinfj-s and the rii>;hts of all around 
 them. They feel it their duty to display the power 
 of Christian principle in their personal as well as 
 social dispositions, in their habitual temperance and 
 moderation, tenderness and good will, in their 
 firmness, their integrity, their submission to the 
 will of the Supreme Being, their respect for reli- 
 gious institutions, their cheerfulness, their forbear- 
 ance. Whatsoever things, in one word, are true, 
 honest, just, lovely, and of good report, these 
 things it is their most fervent desire to remember 
 and to practise, — holding the faith of their Master 
 in unity of spirit, in the bond of peace, and in 
 righteousness of life. 
 
 II. These then are the persons who live and 
 die in the Lord Jesus, and whose death is blessed. 
 It is blessed because they rest from their labours. 
 We know that Christians, however sincere in their 
 faith, are not exempted from the calamities incident 
 to human nature. They never have been thus 
 exempted. The immediate followers of Jesus 
 were taught to prepare themselves for a life of 
 
SERMON I. 11 
 
 suffering ; and to look beyond this world for rest 
 and uninterrupted felicity. They encountered tri- 
 als, more difficult, it is true, than are imposed upon 
 us, and rendered necessary by the state of the 
 world at that time and by the nature of their em- 
 ployments. But they were neither promised nor 
 did they expect an adequate recompense on earth. 
 They laboured, that the rest which succeeded their 
 labours might be more sweet ; they used the pow- 
 ers committed to ihem, for tlie sake ot laying thera 
 down in due time honourably ; they thought less 
 of the means than the end, less of life and its en- 
 joyments than of their departure i[) peace and 
 hope, less of the race than the crown. 
 
 The life of a Cliristian is not necessarily a life 
 of disquietude, and contention with the vicious ; 
 because in an improved state of society virtue is 
 generally estimated as it deserves, and is allowed 
 to be the safety and the ornament of man. Yet 
 whose virtue can save him from grief and disap- 
 pointment, from unexpected poverty, from accidents 
 that throw a cloud over the path of life, from the 
 pains of a lingering disease ? The upright often 
 find life a gift, from which they derive no pleasure, 
 and from which they would willingly be released. 
 They find themselves alone, the survivors of their 
 friends, of their dearest sympatliies, of their pow- 
 ers of enjoyment. Their understandings may be- 
 
12 SERMON I. 
 
 come feeble, and doubts and perplexities may op- 
 press them. There is the I'ear that they have 
 gained too little or that tliat little may be lost ; the 
 painful vigilance with which they are obliged to 
 guard their conduct and restrain their passions ; 
 the temptations and trials which beset them in 
 every step of their pilgrimage, — from all these 
 they are relieved by death. The conflict is over ; 
 the weary are at rest ; the bustle and the care and 
 the anijuish is ended. 
 
 They are blessed too, because their works do 
 follow tlum. They carry with them to another 
 world the moral excellencies which they have 
 acquired in this, and which have prepared them 
 for a state of perfect purity. What they have 
 done is not lost. Their acts of beneficence, their 
 piety, their personal righteousness, the fidelity and 
 courage with which they have kept the faith, com- 
 pose the bright robe, which admits them to the 
 society of angels. They pass into a state of ex- 
 istence, where their good dispositions will be called 
 into perpetual exercise, and their intellectual vigour 
 and their love of knowledge will forever increase ; 
 where truth will be unveiled, and the design of 
 God in creating the universe, and the end of his 
 mysterious dispensations, and the perfections of his 
 own character, will be seen more clearly. They 
 who have cultivated an ardent love of truth, and 
 
SERMON I. 13 
 
 they who have taught their hearts to feci the 
 charms of virtue, will enter into a state congenial 
 with their habits, and in which these habits will be 
 an endless source of felicity. No prejudices, of 
 which it is as hard to be sensible as to be divested, 
 will obstruct the mind in its progress ; no unsocial 
 affection will obtrude itself, nor doubts, nor false- 
 hood : for the Lamb, that is in the midst of the 
 throne, will guide his followers, and lead them to 
 fountains of hving water. 
 
 This is a consummation, my friends, to which we 
 should all aspire, and which we may gain, by living 
 in the faith of Christ and in the practice of his 
 precepts. Let us endeavour to be followers of 
 them, who sustained this character while living, 
 and have departed in peace. When we see the 
 righteous, as we have recently seen, passing from 
 our eyes and our aifections to inherit the Christian 
 promises, let us remember what they once were, 
 and what they have gained, and comfort one anoth- 
 er with these words. S. C. 
 
SERMON II. 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF MRS. SUSAN BULFINCH. 
 
 PSALM XXXVn. 10. 
 
 THE LORD KNOWETH THE DAYS OF THE UPRIGHT. 
 
 IN this psalm David takes a view of the dif- 
 ferent states of the righteous and the wicked. The 
 language appears to refer to the rewards, which 
 God bestows, and to the punishments, which he 
 inflicts, in the present world ; not in that world, 
 which is beyond the grave. For it was addressed 
 to a nation, which was chosen by the Lord to be 
 his peculiar people ; which was under a theocracy, 
 that is, of which God was the king, and who sanc- 
 tioned his laws by temporal happiness and misery. 
 But by such an interpretation as we, who are en- 
 lightened with the revelation of Christianity, are 
 accustomed to make of the Old Testament, the 
 
16 SERMON n. 
 
 psalm may be apj)lled to the rewards and punish- 
 ments, which are future. In this sense its promises 
 and threats are strictly true in the present age ; 
 whilst in many instances they fail of being any longer 
 applicable in the sense, in which they were origi- 
 nally expressed. Adopting this explanation, one 
 of the most consoling passages of the psalm is 
 contained in the words, which I have chosen for 
 my text. The Lord knoweth the days of the up- 
 right. I purpose to discourse on these words ; 
 and I will endeavour to show what is implied in 
 them, and what uses may be made of the truths 
 which they teach. 
 
 I. By the days of the upright, in this passage, 
 is to be understood the life of the righteous, as it 
 flows on from day to day. God is acquainted with 
 their life ; that is, with all that they act, or speak, 
 or think. 
 
 He observes their actions. Their deeds of pie- 
 ty are seen by him. Their acts of charity, though 
 many of them are secrets to the world, are per- 
 formed under the eye of God. He regards the 
 fidelity, with which they discharge the various du- 
 ties arising from the relations, in which they stand 
 to their families, and to the societies with which 
 they are connected. He beholds their acts of 
 self-denial, which leads them to prefer virtue to 
 
 ?i." H 
 
 y 
 
SERMON II. 17 
 
 pleasure ; of humility, which induces them to hon- 
 our others more than themselves; of patience, 
 which enables them to endure with cheerfulness 
 the evils sent by Providence; of benevolence, 
 which causes them to take an animated and inte- 
 resting part in every thing, that concerns the hap- 
 piness of their fellow creatures. 
 
 God observes their words. He sees with what 
 discretion they govern their tongues; and how 
 carefully they avoid uttering any thing, which 
 might dishonour religion, sully the purity of the 
 innocent, give pain to a virtuous mind, or injure the 
 reputation of an absent brother. Though the 
 temptations to offend here are stronger, than in 
 almost any other instance of moral conduct, and 
 the crime apparently less; yet their Maker with 
 complacence observes, that they never suffer vani- 
 ty, or self-love, or jealousy, or envy, to give a 
 loose to their speech ; or to entice them to trans- 
 gress the bounds, which devotion, chastity, or 
 charity prescribe. 
 
 God in particular observes their thoughts. 
 These motions of the mind, which for the most 
 part are unknown to the world, are not unknown 
 to that allwise Being, who penetrates the human 
 heart. He sees the secret devotion, which inhabits 
 their breast; the deep contrition, which they feel 
 for the offences, that they have been led to commit 
 3 
 
18 SERMON II. 
 
 by the infirmity of human nature ; the care, with 
 which they watch over their thoughts; their ar- 
 dent wishes for perfection ; their fervent resolu- 
 tions to correct whatever is wrong in themselves, 
 and to assimilate themselves still more to the di- 
 vine image; the good will, which they cherish to 
 all their fellow creatures; and the sympathy and 
 tenderness, which are excited within them by a 
 view of the miseries of mankind. 
 
 God observes these thinfrs with delio;ht; but 
 this is not all: he notes them in his book; and he 
 determines to reward them with peace of heart in 
 the present world, and with everlasting happiness 
 in another state. The Supreme Being is a specta- 
 tor of every thing ^vhich passes here below; but 
 he is not an indifferent spectator: he looks at the 
 upright with the eye of benevolence, that he may 
 support and bless them; that by the joy, with 
 which he fills their souls, he may encourage them 
 to persevere, and inspire them with new motives 
 to increase in piety and virtue. 
 
 II. Such are the truths, which are taught in 
 the text. Important uses may be made of them. 
 
 The good man, who is conscious that he is act- 
 ing under the eye of God ; that an omniscient 
 Being beholds all that he does, and all that he 
 thinks; and that he will assuredly bless his virtu- 
 
SERMON II. 19 
 
 ous exertions ; must be inspired with a courage 
 and zeal, which no obstacle can resist. In the 
 venerable presence of his Judge, he is afraid to 
 transgress any of his laws; under the inspection 
 of his Father and Friend, gratitude and love re- 
 strain him from forgetting for a moment that affec- 
 tion, which is due to the best of beings. 
 
 In particular, the belief, that the Lord knoweth 
 his days, supports the good man under the various 
 temptations and trials, to which he is subjected in 
 the present state ; for he is convinced that they 
 are sent upon him, not in cruelty, but mercy. The 
 temptations, to which he is exposed, are designed 
 to give strength to his resolutions and firmness to 
 his virtue; to render him a vigilant, active, and in- 
 trepid servant of God. The trials and afflictions, 
 through which he is made to pass, are intended to 
 purify his soul from every thing which is earthlv, 
 to associate it with heavenly objects, and to raise 
 it to the Being, who is the fountain of ineffable 
 bliss. 
 
 The text then contains important meanings and 
 uses. You will not be surprised, my brethren, 
 that I have selected it on this occasion ; for you 
 perceive its application to the respectable woman, 
 whose remains in the past week we conveyed to 
 the tomb. The high rank, which she had attained 
 
20 SERMON ir. 
 
 in the church of Christ by her piety and sanctity, 
 her venerable old age, my long acquaintance with 
 her character, and the strong ties of friendship and 
 gratitude, with which I have been bound to her, 
 will justify mc in taking more particular notice of 
 her, than has been usual from this pulpit. You 
 would not pardon me, if I should suffer so excellent 
 a christian to pass off the stage, without giving her 
 my applause ; for you believe with me, that the 
 contemplation of her example will be useful to you 
 and your children. 
 
 Our respected friend was the daughter of an 
 eminent merchant, who was distinguished for his 
 honour, his probity, and his generosity. He was 
 a pillar of this society, a strict, conscientious, ra- 
 tional, and devout churchman. At the period in 
 which he flourished, the church of England might 
 be considered as one of the most liberal religious 
 institutions in the country. It had adopted none 
 of the peculiar doctrines of Geneva ; but its 
 preachers inculcated good morals, and laid little 
 stress on mere faith. This is evident, not only 
 from tradition, but from the sermons, which are 
 left in print by the episcopal clergymen of that 
 age. Such was the religion, which her father 
 believed ; and this he taught to his children. He 
 was a man of piety ; and he spent much time with 
 his family, not only in church, but in his house, in 
 
SERMON II. 21 
 
 devotional exercises. Her mother was a devout 
 and accomplished woman; and she educated her 
 daughters in the strictest principles and manners 
 of purity, delicacy, and virtue. Thus our friend 
 was good and religious from her infancy; but her 
 goodness had nothing in it, which was repulsive; 
 and her religion, nothing, which was sour or 
 austere. Born in the former part of the last cen- 
 tury, she received the education, which was usually 
 bestowed on refined women at that period. In 
 her might be seen what is sometimes styled the 
 manners of the old school : her deportment was 
 erect and dignified ; it inspired respect, and fre- 
 quently awe. 
 
 But her intimate friends, attracted by her affa- 
 bility, and charmed with the sprightliness of her 
 conversation, soon lost the uneasiness of constraint; 
 for she was the child of fancy, and she had receiv- 
 ed from nature a large portion of wit, which flash- 
 ed in coruscations, unexpected and beautiful. Wit, 
 which is always delightful, is peculiarly so, when it 
 is restrained by modesty, candour, and religion; 
 when, like hers, it discloses new beauties in the 
 object, on which it shines ; but neither dazzles with 
 an offensive flame the sight of the innocent, nor is 
 hurled with impious boldness against the throne of 
 God. Her conversation was not only entertaining 
 by its wit, but also instructive by its good sense. 
 
52 SERMON II. 
 
 Her memory being tenacious, she had treasured up 
 in her mind a large stock of knowledge, which she 
 knew how to clothe in the graces and elegances of 
 language. In her observations there was frequent- 
 ly an ingenuity and originality, which industry may 
 in vain attempt to reach, but which genius only 
 has power to bestow on her favourite sons and 
 daughters. Such appeared the character of her 
 mind, when more than thirty years ago I became 
 first acquainted with it. Its lustre undoubtedly 
 was in some measure dimmed by age ; but its light 
 still shone, though with enfeebled rays, till the last 
 years of her life. 
 
 As she had endeavoured from her earliest youth 
 to make herself well acquainted with her duty, she 
 was sensible that the principal part, which she had 
 to perform, was to discharge with fidelity the obli- 
 gations, imposed on her by the situations and rela- 
 tions, in which she was placed by divine Provi- 
 dence ; and these were her domestick obligations. 
 In neatness, order, industry, and skill in the man- 
 agement of a family, she may justly be proposed 
 as a model; 1 have never heard of an instance, 
 which was better entitled to approbation ; and I 
 cannot conceive of any thing more perfect. Good 
 wives are so common in this country, that great 
 merit in this relation does not excite any distin- 
 guished applause ; it is sufficient to say of her 
 
SERMON II. 23 
 
 therefore, that she held an honourable station 
 among this numerous class. The view, in which I 
 have always contemplated her character with most 
 delight, is that of a mother. In her attention and 
 affection to her children she was constant and un- 
 remitted. She lived chiefly for them j and the 
 principal object of her cares and endeavours was 
 to make them good and happy. An exquisite sen- 
 sibility, which filled her heart, rendered them the 
 source to her of great joy, but unhappily also of 
 great sorrow; for death frequently entered her 
 house, and tore from it her children. The loss in 
 particular of one daughter, who sunk into the 
 grave at the interesting age of fifteen, whom I re- 
 member only once to have seen, but who is describ- 
 ed by all who knew her, to have been as good as 
 she was lovely, imbittered many years of the 
 mother's life. But God educed many blessings 
 from this afflictive event ; and doubtless much of 
 that kind sympathy toward others, for which she 
 was distinguished, flowed from this fountain of her 
 own grief. 
 
 In another relation, that of a mistress, she shone 
 with equal lustre. Merit is not as common in this 
 character, as in that of a mother ; and is therefore 
 the more highly to be prized. There are many 
 mistresses, who satisfy themselves with paying 
 their wages to the young women, placed under 
 
24 SERMON U. 
 
 their care, and with treating them with general 
 kindness and indulgence ; but who do not think 
 themselves under obliorations to watch over their 
 morals, or to instruct them in the doctrines and 
 duties of religion. This was not the view, which 
 was entertained by our enlightened friend : she 
 gave to her domesticks the same religious and mo- 
 ral instruction, which she bestowed on her chil- 
 dren. The consequence was, that her house was 
 the school of piety and virtue ; and that many 
 young women, whom she had trained up, became, 
 after they were settled in life, as respectable for 
 the stations which they held in society, as they 
 were for their purity and goodness. 
 
 That her active virtue was not confined within 
 the walls of her own house, the poor of this church, 
 as well as many other distressed persons, will bear 
 witness. They will say, that charity to the indi- 
 gent was the grace, which was most conspicuous 
 in her character : to them it appeared that her 
 chief employment was to take care of the wretch- 
 ed. The duty of compassion had been so long 
 practised by her, that it had become a habit. She 
 was constantly seeking objects, on whom she might 
 bestow her alms ; or contriving means for the re- 
 lief of those, with whom she was acquainted. 
 But her sympathy was not excited only by the 
 poor J she took a tender part in all the sorrows of 
 
SERMON II. 25 
 
 her friends, whatever might be their source. She 
 wept with them, when they wept ; and she rejoic- 
 ed with them, when they were prosperous and 
 happy; for her heart was as benevolent, as it was 
 enlarged: God dwelt in it; and he it was, by 
 whom it was filled and expanded. 
 
 1 have already suggested, that she began her 
 life with the practice of religion ; and I would now 
 add, that piety continued to adorn her character, 
 as long as consciousness remained. She spent 
 much of her time in acts of devotion, and in read- 
 ing the sacred scriptures and other religious books. 
 This was her frequent employment in the days of 
 health and prosperity ; and it constituted almost 
 her sole occupation during the last year of her life, 
 which was passed in bodily pain, but which was 
 alleviated by prayer and devout meditation. Hap- 
 pily she died at last without distress, and glided 
 insensibly to the grave, her countenance brighten- 
 ing more and more with the light of heaven, as 
 she approached the celestial regions. 
 
 I pretend not to say, that she was exempt from 
 faults. Those, who have heard of her eminent 
 purity, charity, and devotion, may perhaps be ready 
 to suspect, that though she was free from all other 
 weaknesses, yet that she might be proud of her 
 religion and sanctity. But those, who judge in 
 this manner, are unacquainted with her character. 
 4 
 
26 SERMON II. 
 
 If she was distinguished for any virtue, it was for 
 humility. She thought not highly of her attain- 
 ments in piety and goodness. So far from obtain- 
 ing a full assurance that God approved her, she 
 was frequently alarmed with the apprehension, 
 that she was not the object of his complacence ; 
 and these fears she entertained, not only in the last 
 years of her life, when it may be supposed that 
 her mind was in some degree impaired by age and 
 disease, but in many former moments of ease and 
 health. These alarms were not occasioned by 
 superstitious notions, but by the consciousness, 
 which she appeared to possess, of the imperfection 
 of her moral and religious character. She had 
 undoubtedly exalted her standard of duty to an 
 elevated point, to the height which Jesus reached, 
 but which probably no man or woman ever attains 
 in the present world ; and it is no wonder, when 
 she compared her life with the life of her Saviour, 
 that the perfection, at which she aimed, was be- 
 yond her acquisition. I do not condemn her 
 doubts ; for I believe that they are apt to enter 
 every mind, which is accustomed to self-examina- 
 tion. The best consolation, which even the most 
 pious and virtuous can obtain in this world, is the 
 persuasion, that God is good, though they are im- 
 perfect ; and the utmost, which they can expect in 
 
SERMON II. 27 
 
 their last moments, is, like this excellent christian, 
 to hope with trembling. 
 
 Her life and character inculcate several useful 
 lessons. I have taken this view of them, not only 
 that I might pay the tribute of respect, which is 
 due to her memory, but that I might impress these 
 lessons on your minds. 
 
 Her example teaches the benefit of early piety 
 and virtue. The full advantage of these acquisi- 
 tions cannot be enjoyed, except by those who have 
 made them in the morning of their days, and who 
 have never lost them. This is in particular true 
 of the female sex. When women deviate into vice, 
 it is in their power to repent; and there is no 
 doubt, when they do repent, their Maker will for- 
 give them: but repentance can only heal them; 
 it cannot restore the native blush of innocence ; it 
 cannot remove the scars of deformity, which vice, 
 even when it is expelled, always leaves in the cha- 
 racter. No, my young friends, you cannot become 
 completely respectable in this world, unless, like 
 the departed saint, who was so much the object of 
 your veneration, you have been always good and 
 always pious. 
 
 Finally, another lesson, which her example in- 
 culcates, is, that though virtue must not look for 
 its perfect reward, till it reaches paradise ; yet 
 
28 SERMON II. 
 
 that God seldom fails to crown it with honour even 
 in the present scene. Its natural tendency is to 
 produce tranquillity, cheerfulness, health, long life, 
 the love of friends, the esteem of the wise, and 
 the admiration of all. Our departed friend enjoy- 
 ed in a great measure all these blessings ; and 
 there can be no doubt that they were the fruits of 
 her moral and religious qualities. The attention 
 of her children in particular, which contributed so 
 much to the comfort and happiness of her latter 
 years, was the necessary effect of her own good 
 conduct as a parent: it was the unavoidable result 
 of that gratitude which was due to the care and 
 tenderness, with which she had watched over 
 them in their infant and youthful days. You have 
 then, my hearers, every motive to be virtuous. 
 Goodness and piety render you respectable in this 
 world; and still greater rewards are to be ex- 
 pected in another world ; they will fdl you with 
 immortal bliss, and irradiate you with immortal 
 glory. 
 
 I hope these motives will have their proper 
 effect on the minds of the youth of this society, 
 particularly on the minds of the younger branches 
 of the family ; and that it will induce them to copy 
 her virtues. But the instruction is addressed not 
 only to them, but to us all. It is a voice from the 
 tomb, solemn and affectionate ; and it is the only 
 
SERMON II. 29 
 
 one, which we can now hear : for we shall no 
 more see her in the house of prayer ; we shall not 
 agrain meet her at the table of the Lord ; God has 
 laid his hand upon her, and she sleeps ; but we 
 trust she sleeps in Jesus ; and that we shall meet 
 her again in the city of the great King, when it 
 has been renovated by the power of the Almighty. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 The following Notices of Mrs. Bulpinch appeared 
 in the publick news-papers. 
 
 Extract from the Boston Gazette of Feb. 20, 1815. 
 
 On the evening of the 15th instant depart- 
 ed this life, Madam SUSAN BULFINCH, aged 
 81 years, relict of the late Dr. Thomas Bulfinch, 
 and daughter of Charles Apthorp, Esq. former- 
 ly a distinguished merchant of this town. Few 
 persons have acted their part in life more honoura- 
 bly, or left behind them a more revered and che- 
 rished memory, than this respectable lady. Nature 
 had given her intellectual powers of uncommon 
 vigour; and she had cultivated them in early life 
 with great assiduity, and adorned them by various 
 reading, and by habitual intercourse with improved 
 society. There was a propriety and decorum in 
 her manners, a strength, richness, variety, know- 
 ledge of life, candour, and cheerfulness in her con- 
 versation, which endeared her to all who had the 
 
NOTES. Si 
 
 privilege of her acquaintance. Her reverence for 
 the Supreme Being was unfeigned and constant. 
 This principle supported her through severe afflic- 
 tions, and became the parent of many virtues. She 
 was a Christian from conviction, from a careful 
 study of the Scriptures, from an enlightened and 
 upright mind. She was a Christian too, with- 
 out an exclusive spirit or bigotry, conscious of 
 her infirmities, and looking to Heaven for light 
 and assistance and forgiveness. In the relations of 
 ])rivate life, as a wife, a mother, a friend and patro- 
 ness of the poor, an attentive consoler of the sor- 
 rowful, a friend to all practicable modes of bene- 
 ficence, she exhibited the divine spirit of Chris- 
 tianity. Her life, thus adorned with moral and 
 intellectual graces, terminated in a serene, dignifi- 
 ed and venerated old age. Death advanced slow- 
 ly and without terrours, and this ripe shock of corn 
 was at length gathered in its season. S. C. 
 
 Extract from the JVew-England Palladium of Feb. 
 21, 1815. 
 
 Departed this life, on the 15th inst. in the 
 81st year of her age. Madam SUSAN BUL- 
 FINCH, relict of Dr. Thomas Bulfinch, and 
 daughter of Charles Apthorp, Esq. formerly a 
 
32 NOTES. 
 
 distinguished merchant and eminent citizen of this 
 town. — Her remains were yesterday respectfully 
 deposited in the silent tomb. 
 
 This exemplary woman was endowed, by the 
 Giver of all Good, with a firm mind and ex- 
 traordinary powers of understanding, which were 
 cultivated with care by education, and exercised 
 and increased through life by dihgent reading and 
 accurate observation. Long will her numerous 
 and extensive acquaintance dwell with pleasure on 
 the recollection of her distinguished social powers ; 
 on the brilliancy of her conversation, marked by 
 candour and sincerity, and enriched from the stores 
 of an extensive memory; and on the solid instruc- 
 tions of her matured and well-regulated judgment. 
 Persons of all ages and of both sexes, can bear 
 testimony to the charm of her manners, and to the 
 dignity, softened by the smile of benevolence, with 
 which she, as it were, presided in the centre of the 
 social circle. Her clear sense of duty, warmed 
 by the feelings of a most alTectionate heart, led her 
 to acquit herself with zeal in the various relations 
 of an attentive child, of an affectionate wife, of the 
 instructive and devoted mother, of the cordial and 
 sympathising friend. Her religion was sincere 
 and fervent, but not gloomy. With an unshaken 
 trust in the providence of God, she enjoyed the 
 favours he bestowed, with cheerful piety ; and en- 
 
NOTES. 33 
 
 dured the troubles and varied cares of a long life 
 with firmness and pious resignation. Of a consti- 
 tution of body naturally delicate, she bore with 
 patience the numerous pains with which she was 
 tried, and seemed always a living evidence of a 
 superiour and immortal part, rising above the 
 weakness of human nature. 
 
 Her last and distressingr illness was borne with 
 such composure, such patience, that her chamber 
 exhibited a fit temple for religion, and the true 
 portal of a heavenly world. With benevolence 
 toward every member of the Christian family, 
 her warmest feelings were reserved for those of 
 her own communion. By her punctual and regu- 
 lar attendance on the services and ordinances of 
 religion, she displayed her thorough conviction of 
 its truth and her confidence in its promises. The 
 poor of all descriptions found her an able adviser 
 and a bountiful friend. To pass through the suc- 
 cessive stages of life with propriety, exhibiting in 
 each, a bright display of the virtues most appro- 
 priate thereto ; to give an example to immediate 
 descendants and to society at large ; to glorify 
 God, by making the existence he has bestowed, an 
 universal blessing, and by evidencing a correct 
 model of the Christian character; these are the 
 purposes for which human beings are sent into this 
 transitory and lower world ; and where these 
 5 
 
34 NOTES. 
 
 duties are well performed, as they uniformly have 
 been by the subject of this memoir, the survivers 
 should not sorrow as those who have no hope : but 
 may rest assured, that her reward will be great, in 
 a higher and better state of existence. C. B. 
 
 We have also received the following from another 
 hand. 
 
 This estimable lady was distinguished for 
 her superiour powers of mind, her clear and deci- 
 sive judgment, her strong and regulated affections, 
 her fine literary taste, and for her consistent and 
 charitable religious sentiments. In her, society 
 loses no uninterested spectator of passing events 
 whether public or private ; — the poor lose the 
 friend whose ready and attentive ear was open to 
 their griefs, and whose active mind was never tired 
 of affording relief 
 
 To her family she has been a dignified and dis- 
 tinguished ornament and head, to society an exam- 
 ple of a life spent in the constant practice of those 
 important duties, which ennoble the Christian cha- 
 racter. Her course is completed. Nothing which 
 mortality could do was left undone, and she is now 
 gone to receive the reward of her labours. 
 
 S.B. 
 
SERMON III. 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF THE REV. SAMUEL 
 CARY. 
 
 JOB XIV. 19. 
 
 THOU DESTROYEST THE HOPE OF MAN. 
 
 THE fatal tidings, which during several 
 weeks you, my brethren, have anticipated with 
 fearful apprehension, have at length reached your 
 ears: your young pastor is dead. Neither the 
 balmy air of the land, nor the healthful breezes of 
 the ocean, the skill of the physician, the tender 
 care of affectionate relatives, nor the prayers of 
 numerous friends could save his life : he is fallen, 
 and lies buried in a foreign clime. It is thus, O 
 God, that thou destroyest the hope of man. 
 
 God has destroyed the hope of the publick ; 
 another young and learned minister is gone to the 
 
36 SERMON III. 
 
 grave, whither Buckminster descended before him. 
 The enlightened citizen, the patriot, who was num- 
 bered among those, on whom the honour of his 
 country depended, and who was continually exert- 
 ing his talents and industry to advance its reputa- 
 tion and welfare, is cut off, not long after he had 
 commenced his successful career. The expectation 
 of the aid, which this liberal and well instructed 
 divine was to afford to the cause of rational reli- 
 gion, is frustrated. He no longer lives to defend 
 Christianity against the attacks of the infidel. His 
 solid and luminous arguments are no longer pro- 
 duced for the assent of those, who delight to follow 
 a chain of reasoning through the connected links 
 of demonstration. 
 
 God has destroyed your hope, my brethren of 
 this church. You looked forward with fond antici- 
 pation to many years of instruction and usefulness 
 on his part, and of pleasure and improvement on 
 yours. A body which appeared so firm, a voice 
 which resounded in your ears like the voice of 
 health itself, loud, penetrating, and commanding, 
 promised a long continuance on earth. You mark- 
 ed with delight his rapid growth in knowledge, and 
 his facility in communicating its treasures. To the 
 strong reasoning powers, which first attracted your 
 attention, you observed him daily adding the 
 graces, which render them more impressing. His 
 
SERMON III. 37 
 
 imagination, which was always lively, became con- 
 tinually more animated ; his taste, which was always 
 correct, became more refined ; and his heart, which 
 was always warm, became more affectionate, and 
 made the tones of his voice and his language still 
 more pathetick. As he knew more of you, he lov- 
 ed you still more. He was duly sensible of his 
 happiness ; and he frequently thanked the benevo- 
 lence of Providence for placing him in this town, 
 the paradise of clergymen, and in this church, one 
 of its chosen walks. He highly approved the 
 state of society, which exists among you. It would 
 be an endless task to mention the many individuals 
 of you, whom he has been heard to commend. He 
 rejoiced in your prosperity; but your adversity fill- 
 ed his bosom with throbs and his eyes with tears. 
 When the amiable youth, the venerable father, the 
 respectable matron have died, he has not been able 
 to command his agitation ; but his broken voice 
 and convulsed features have testified how deeply 
 he was affected with your grief In removing from 
 you a pastor of such talents, of so much acquired 
 knowledge, of such an increasing reputation, and 
 of such tender sensibility, God has blasted your 
 expectations ; and there is an end of all the im- 
 provement, which you promised yourselves from his 
 labours, and the pleasure which you anticipated in 
 his sympathy and friendship. 
 
38 SERMON III. 
 
 God has, in particular, destroyed the hope of 
 the youth of this society. You promised your- 
 selves a longer continuance of his instruction. As 
 he advanced in life, you were to advance v^ith him ; 
 and every new year was to strengthen your mutual 
 friendship. By his persuasion many of you were 
 induced to join him at the table of your Lord, 
 to commemorate there the death of your benevo- 
 lent Redeemer. But he will never again present 
 to you the bread of life or the cup of salvation. 
 The voice of a brother will no more sound in your 
 ears. The charm, which divine truths receive from 
 being uttered by one of your own age, has ceased ; 
 for he, whose manly form, vigorous tones, and 
 graceful delivery commanded your attention, lies 
 cold in the grave. 
 
 God has also destroyed the hope of the children 
 of this society. To their religious instruction your 
 deceased pastor was peculiarly attentive. He not 
 only by his exhortations greatly increased the num- 
 ber of communicants among the young, but he 
 also spent much time in catechising the children ; 
 and it was he who first taught their sweet voices 
 to repeat in publick the devout hymn. The cus- 
 tom has been attended with happy effects. Whilst 
 it has delighted the children, it has, I doubt not, 
 rendered them more mindful of the duty, which 
 they owe to God, to their parents, and to one 
 
SERMON III. 39 
 
 another. They will hear therefore with tender 
 sorrow of the death of their much loved pastor, 
 whose face they cannot see again, till they shall be 
 transported to that pleasant country, where the 
 good, whether old or young", dwell forever in the 
 presence of their Redeemer. 
 
 God, by the death of this ardent and affectionate 
 man, has destroyed the hope of his intimate friends. 
 How sweet has been your communion with him ! 
 How delightful has it been to impart to him your 
 thoughts, and to receive his in return ! His gene- 
 rous zeal, his disinterestedness, the sacrifices which 
 he has made for you, have won your hearts. But 
 whilst you were flattering yourselves, that you 
 should enjoy the pleasures of his friendship for ma- 
 ny long years, he is snatched from your sight. 
 His voice will not again utter the notes of affec- 
 tion ; his eye will no more beam on you with be- 
 nignity. 
 
 God has destroyed the hope of a more tender 
 friend. When this interesting young woman ap- 
 peared among you, by her accomplishments, her 
 discretion, her gentleness, her loveliness, she 
 charmed every heart; and happy were you, when 
 she gave her hand to your esteemed pastor. She 
 entered the conjugal state with the fairest pros- 
 pects before her. She became the wife of a wise, 
 respectable, and honourable man ; and whilst she 
 
40 SERMON III. 
 
 had reason to rejoice in the fervour of his affection, 
 and to be satisfied with the esteem, in which he 
 was held bj society, she was placed in a situation, 
 in which she was the object of the attention and 
 kindness of numerous friends. Might she not 
 without presumption look forward to a long life of 
 felicity ? But how is her hope destroyed ! — Called 
 to bury her husband in a foreign land, at a distance 
 from her parents, at a distance from her infant; a 
 widow in the bloom of life ; sunk from light and 
 cheerfulness to a gloomy state, the pangs of which 
 can be felt, but not described ! 
 
 God has destroyed the hope of the parent. 
 The pastor, whose death you lament, was the only 
 son of his mother; and she is a widow. With the 
 aid of her enlightened husband, she had carried 
 him on from infancy to youth, and from youth to 
 manhood. He had passed unhurt through those 
 dangerous paths, where so many of the young fall 
 a prey to temptation ; and her delighted eye be- 
 held him in the vigour of life, learned, virtuous, and 
 pious, discharging the duties of an important sta- 
 tion with honour to himself and benefit to others, 
 and rising continually in reputation with the wise 
 and good. But whilst she is rejoicing in his pros- 
 perity with the fondness of maternal love, he is 
 hurled from the summit of usefulness and happi- 
 ness ; and nothing is now left for her, but to de- 
 
SERMON III. 41 
 
 scend mourning to tlie grave, the dark abode of 
 her husband and son. 
 
 It is thus, my brethren, that God has destroyed 
 your hope. But is the Creator of the world, the 
 author of every blessing, a destroyer ? Does he 
 afflict the children of men.-^ Does evil, as well as 
 good, proceed from him ? Yes ; this is the doc- 
 trine, which is taught in the sacred scriptures ; but 
 you ought not to be offended with it, or to con- 
 ceive that it detracts any thing from the benevo- 
 lence of the Supreme Being. In truth this doc- 
 trine is the only source of comfort under the 
 afflictions, which you suffer. Whether God could 
 have created the world, without permitting evil to 
 have a place in it, is not the question. The fact 
 is, that evil exists ; and it behooves you to view it 
 in the light, which renders its weight the most 
 tolerable. To what cause then will you attribute 
 your afflictions; to chance and blind fate, or to 
 God ? If you choose the former supposition, what 
 hope or consolation can it afford you ? Chance and 
 fate are unintelligible causes, the operations of 
 which cannot be traced. You have been unhappy 
 to-day; and you hope that a fortunate accident 
 will take place, and render you happy to-morrow : 
 but you have no foundation for such hope ; for 
 accidents may continue to be unfortunate, and only 
 plunge you deeper in misery. 
 6 
 
42 SERMON III. 
 
 In particular, what consolation can chance or 
 fate afford you, when you are deprived of a belov- 
 ed friend ? Can chance restore him to life ? Can 
 fate remove from his eyelids the shadow of death ? 
 There are friends, who are too dear to you, to be 
 given up forever. Nature cannot support the idea, 
 that they are never to be seen again. Scarcely 
 can you resign them for the few years, in which 
 they precede you. Your hearts would break, 
 would burst with anguish, if you did not believe, 
 that you should once more behold their face, that 
 you should once more hear the sound of their 
 voice. Chance and fate however consign your 
 friends to everlasting destruction : they are not the 
 authors of immortality ; they have no power to 
 raise them from the grave. But when you believe 
 that it is God, who hath killed the object of your 
 love, you believe also that it is God, who will 
 make him alive. He can once more breathe life 
 into the sleeping dust ; and he has promised, that 
 all who are in the grave, shall hereafter come forth 
 at the voice of his Son. This truth diminishes 
 your affliction, and causes light to break on your 
 disconsolate hearts. You say, the friend, whose 
 death we are lamenting, is not taken from us for- 
 ever : he is only gone to a place, whither we shall 
 soon follow him : and thouofh even a short absence 
 from so beloved an object is painful ; yet the ex- 
 
SERMON III. 43 
 
 peclatlon of seeing him again revives our droop- 
 ing spirits, and enables us calmly to resign ourselves 
 to the will of Heaven. 
 
 The doctrine, which we are vindicating, affords 
 you also the highest consolation in affliction, be- 
 cause it teaches you, that it is sent by a Being, 
 who is infinitely wise and merciful. Chance and 
 fate possess no moral qualities : they are neither 
 intelligent nor good : they pursue no plan ; and 
 trouble and pain proceeding from their hands can- 
 not be intended to promote the final good of those 
 who endure them. But all the dispensations of 
 God are governed by the rules of wisdom and 
 benevolence. True it is, that he destroys your 
 hope ; that the evil which you suffer comes from 
 him. He sends it not however as evil, but as a 
 real and essential good. The afflictions, with 
 which he visits you, are designed to produce some 
 benevolent purpose of happiness, either to your- 
 selves or others. You behold in them all, not the 
 hand of a tyrant, not the hand of a merciless exe- 
 cutioner, who delights in the torments of his vic- 
 tims, but the hand of an affectionate Father. This 
 is the endearing title, by which he commonly makes 
 himself known : he is the Father of mercies, and 
 the God of all consolation. The scriptures do 
 well therefore, — and you do well in believing 
 them, — when they attribute evil to God ; for in this 
 
44 SERMON III. 
 
 view it ceases to be evil, and is converted into an 
 unchangeable and everlastino' £;ood. There is 
 now nothing wrong in the world, except the moral 
 evil, which men wilfully introduce, and with which 
 they only are justly chargeable. Every thing 
 which God does is right and benevolent ; and he 
 is as much your friend, when the gloomy clouds of 
 affliction surround you, as when he lifts upon you 
 the light of his countenance. 
 
 You cannot, it is true, always explain fully the 
 reasons of his conduct, nor discern all die motives, 
 from which he destroys your hope ; but as you 
 can clearly perceive many of these reasons and 
 motives, you ought to dismiss your complaints, 
 believing that what now appears dark will here- 
 after be illuminated, and that when this terrestrial 
 scene shall be closed, every thing, which God has 
 ordained, will be found to be wise, and just, and 
 good. 
 
 With similar arguments I doubt not your de- 
 ceased pastor would address you, if it was now in 
 his power to speak ; for he was accustomed to see 
 God in every thing; and he was always prepared 
 to console the afflicted. You recall to mind with 
 melancholy, but aifectionate, recollections these and 
 other valuable parts of his character: and you 
 will not be displeased, if 1 exhibit them in one 
 view before your sight. 
 
SERMOT^ III. 45 
 
 The early life of Mr. Gary was innocent, active, 
 and well-disciplined. It was passed under the care 
 of parents, who were distinguished for their good 
 sense, knowledge, liberality, urbanity, discretion, 
 and virtue. In this domestick school he acquired 
 those correct principles and pure habits of morali- 
 ty, which continued to the last. At college, in the 
 midst of a class, several of the members of which 
 were then eminent for their talents, and who are 
 now araono- the most brilliant stars that adorn our 
 hemisphere,* he was conspicuous for his taste, his 
 diligence, and his love of sound learning. At 
 Commencement there was assigned to him a hon- 
 ourable part, by which he excited attention and 
 acquired reputation. In a subsequent perform- 
 ance, at the inauguration of President Webber, lie 
 rose still hiijher. His oration on that occasion has 
 rarely been equalled, perhaps never excelled. The 
 pronunciation of certain words was in such thrilling 
 tones of eloquence, that it charmed every classical 
 
 * One of Mr. Gary's classmates, who was in the author's mind, 
 when he wrote the above, is the late Rev. Samuel C. Thacher of 
 Boston, a gentleman distinguished among the clergy of Massachusetts 
 for mildness of character, unaffected politeness, correct taste, ele- 
 gant style, and classical learning, purity of morals, charity, and piety. 
 As specimens of his talents, and of the interesting manner in which 
 he was able to write, the reader is referred to his Oration delivered at 
 the inauguration of President Kirkland, his Memoir of Mr. Buck- 
 minster, his Essays and Reviews in the Anthology, and his printed 
 Sermons. 
 
46 SERMON III. 
 
 ear. The skill and the genius, which he display- 
 ed in these compositions, led in some measure to 
 his settlement in this church. You had heard of 
 his fame, and when he appeared before you, you 
 thought him worthy of becoming your instructer. 
 His talents in the pulpit, after the hints which have 
 been given in the first part of this discourse, I need 
 not farther describe. They met your approbation, 
 which you have often been heard to express. He 
 was held in high estimation on account of them, by 
 judicious persons, who are not members of this so- 
 ciety. The qualities, which they most admired in 
 him were clear conceptions, and the power of com- 
 municating them in a forcible manner. 
 
 As a man his excellent virtues entitled him to 
 your respect and affection. The moral quality, 
 which predominated in his character, was integrity : 
 he was upright in speech, and upright in action. 
 He sought after truth with zeal and diligence ; and 
 when he thought he had discovered it, he was hon- 
 est in declaring it without disguise. In his conduct 
 he was honourable; he was superiour to meanness 
 of every sort; and he always paid a just regard to 
 the rights of others. There was nothing about 
 him of the conceit of egotism, or the flippancy of 
 vanity. His deportment was grave, his conversa- 
 tion reserved, his manners dignified : the excel- 
 lent parts of his character were chiefly the ef- 
 fects of self-reverence, which he esteemed one of 
 
SERMON III. 47 
 
 the best guards of virtue. He was far however 
 from thinking himself infaUible or impeccable. He 
 knew, that like other mortals, he was frail and 
 liable to err: he was not ashamed therefore, when 
 he had committed it, to acknowledge a fault : his 
 mind was open to conviction ; and he was ever 
 ready to yield up his own opinion, when it was 
 proved to him, that the opinion of others was more 
 correct. His heart was exempt from the narrow 
 prejudice, which leads some persons to suppose, 
 that wisdom and virtue are confined to the men of 
 their own party. He has often been heard to speak 
 favourably of the talents and performances of those, 
 who diflfered the most from him in their creeds. 
 
 As his virtues were all of a manly cast, he was 
 distinguished for his generosity, his disinterested- 
 ness, his gratitude : it appeared as if he was afraid, 
 that he never could return kindness and respect 
 enough to those, from whom he had received fa- 
 vours. His mind was free from jealousy : he was 
 willino; that others should shine and be admired : 
 he listened to their praises without envy; he be- 
 stowed on them the applause which was their due ; 
 and he was the first to discover their merit, parti- 
 cularly the merit of his contemporaries, by whose 
 brilliant talents he was in most danger of being 
 thrown into the shade. His heart being gene- 
 rous, expansive, ardent, communicated some of its 
 warmth to his temper, which perhaps was too apt 
 
48 SERMON III. 
 
 to be inflamed ; but he was not, like some weak 
 men, proud of a fault, because it was accompanied 
 by generous qualities : he was conscious of it, and 
 endeavoured to correct it. He looked into his own 
 heart, accustomed himself to self-disciphne ; and 
 was daily improving in moderation and gentleness, 
 as well as in sympathy, benevolence, and piety. 
 
 He loved his profession, devoted himself with 
 zeal to its various duties, was ambitious of shining 
 in it, and of storing his mind with a knowledge of 
 the other sciences, which contribute to the welfare 
 of society, and add to the reputation of a liberal 
 and enlightened clergyman. Beside reading many 
 books, and carefully composing many sermons, he 
 undertook a theological work, which he intended 
 to publish, but of which he completed no more 
 than the introductory chapter. Intense study im- 
 paired his health ; and he sacrificed his life in the 
 cause of learning and religion. Like other young 
 men among us, who are undermining their constitu- 
 tions by their literary toils, and sinking into an 
 untimely grave, he appeared to forget that mid- 
 night vigils and labours of the brain, however they 
 may enlarge the mind, are destructive to the body; 
 and though he knew so many things, yet he seemed 
 not to know, that death lurks unseen in the pen of 
 the nocturnal scribe. 
 
 When this king of terrours entered his bosom, 
 he felt his presence within him ; he knew that his 
 
SERMON III. 49 
 
 case was hopeless; but he submitted to his fate 
 with the calmness of a philosopher and the forti- 
 tude of a christian. Though it was hard in the 
 bloom of Hfe to quit this pleasant world, where he 
 was placed in so conspicuous a station ; to quit this 
 church, where he was so much admired and loved, 
 and where he did so much good ; to leave the 
 friends who were dear to him ; his mother, of 
 whose declining years he was the support and con- 
 solation ; his amiable and affectionate wife, and his 
 darling and promising infant : — yet he was ready 
 to obey the summons of his heavenly Father, and 
 to pass through the dark cavern of death, if it was 
 the will of his Creator. The entrance into this 
 gloomy mansion was not to be here, but in a dis- 
 tant land. He embarked for England, overwhelm- 
 ed with tenderness and gratitude by the kindness, 
 which you showed him at his departure. He ar- 
 rived at the desired port, but did not long survive. 
 All hope of seeing him again in this world is now 
 destroyed. His body is buried in the country of 
 his ancestors ; but his memory is deposited in your 
 hearts ; where it will long remain, the object of 
 your fervent and grateful love. 
 
 %* Mr. Gary was the son of the Rev. Thomas 
 Gary, and was born at Newbury-port in Massa- 
 chusetts, November 24th. 1785. He graduated 
 
 7 
 
50 NOTE. 
 
 at Harvard University in the year 1804, and was 
 ordained minister of Kingschapel in Boston, Janu- 
 ary 1st. 1809. He died at Royston, October 22d. 
 1815, and was buried in the Unitarian Burying 
 Ground at Hackney. There is an inscription, 
 written by his classmate. Professor Norton, on the 
 monument which covers his remains. At his re- 
 quest, signified to his wife just as Hfe was departing, 
 the Rev. Mr. Belsham of London read the funeral 
 service over him. The friends of Mr. Gary grate- 
 fully acknowledge this attention, as well as the 
 numerous acts of sympathy and kindness, which 
 he and the Rev. Mr. Aspland of Hackney perform- 
 ed to Mrs. Gary during her residence in England. 
 In the month of May of the present year, (1820,) 
 the burial place at Hackney was visited by two 
 friends, Mr. Francis Boott and Mr. Joseph Goolidge. 
 Whilst they gathered the wild flowers, which en- 
 circled the grave of the man, " whom they had 
 known, and loved, and admired," to be sent to 
 Mrs. Gary and another friend in Boston, they 
 " were both impressed with feelings of deep sad- 
 ness ;" but they soothed their melancholy by plant- 
 ing other flowers in the room of those, which thej 
 had removed. 
 
SERMON IV. 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF JOSEPH COOLIDGE, ESQ. 
 
 PROVERBS X. 7. 
 THE MEMORY OF THE JUST IS BLESSED. 
 
 AMONG the afflictions, to which human beings 
 are subject, one of the greatest is the death of a 
 dear and valuable friend. It is an evil, which is 
 thought to admit of no remedy ; because when his 
 body is laid in the dust, he cannot be recalled. 
 No art of man can reanimate him : we shall sfo 
 to him, but we cannot bring him back to us. If 
 he is the head of a family, the centre on which its 
 motion depends, the whole domestick machine is 
 disarranged by his removal. There is an end of 
 all that confidence, which was derived from the 
 certainty of his vigilant superintendence, of the 
 happiness, which his cheerfulness inspired, of the 
 
52 SERMON IV. 
 
 tenderness, which met his love ; and the surviving 
 family are compelled to enter on an untried and 
 melancholy state, calling for new exertions and 
 new duties, for which they had not prepared their 
 minds ; and whilst their strength is broken by dis- 
 tress, they have a more laborious part to perform, 
 than when they were aided by the courage, the 
 knowledge, and force of him, who heretofore guid- 
 ed their actions. It is not to be wondered at 
 therefore, that on the decease of such a friend the 
 heart should throb with anguish ; and that in the 
 first tumults of grief it should be supposed that 
 every prop of felicity is taken away. And yet 
 under the severest trials, the Supreme Being, who 
 never willingly afflicts the children of men, but 
 who has always a benevolent purpose to answer in 
 the sufferings, which he inflicts on his creatures, 
 lifts up the light of his countenance, and diffuses 
 consolation into the heart of the mourner. This 
 consolation is derived from many sources which 
 religion opens, and among others, from the truth, 
 which is taught in the text, that the memory of the 
 just is blessed. It is no small part of our comfort, 
 that the friend whom we have lost, was a just man, 
 that his life was stained with no crime, but adorn- 
 ed with many eminent virtues ; and that now he is 
 gone, his memory is blessed ; that all who survive 
 him speak of him with affection and respect. J 
 
SERMON IV. 53 
 
 request jour attention to this subject, which ap- 
 pears to me applicable to our situation at this time, 
 when we are lamenting the loss of one of the most 
 useful members of our society. It is my design, 
 first, to describe the character of a just man ; and, 
 secondly, to show that his memory is blessed. 
 
 I. By the just in the sacred scriptures is meant 
 the righteous, the good, and the merciful ; or a 
 man, who performs all the duties of a child of God 
 and a member of society with as much diligence 
 and fidelity, as is consistent with the frailty of hu- 
 man nature. The just man loves his Maker and 
 his fellow creatures. He is pious and devout. He 
 endeavours to learn the will of the Supreme Be- 
 ing ; and he obeys as far as he can all the commands 
 which he has given, whether they are of a positive 
 or moral kind. He discharges the relative and 
 social duties with propriety. He is an affectionate 
 husband, an indulgent parent, a kind master, a 
 faithful friend, a patriotick citizen, an active, zeal- 
 ous, and beneficent member of the church, and of 
 the other societies, to which he has joined himself. 
 He strives not only to promote the interest of 
 those, with whom he is connected, but to give them 
 pleasure. He avoids therefore every thing which 
 is harsh and offensive In manners. In the bosom of 
 his family, and in the circle of his friends, he is 
 
54 SERMON IV. 
 
 cheerful and pleasant: he is respectful to the aged, 
 particularly to an aged parent, and he smiles be- 
 nevolently on the young; so that his approach is 
 always welcomed with joy. He is in particular an 
 honest man : he is sincere in his words, upright in 
 his intentions, strict in keeping his promises. The 
 engagements, into which he has entered with in- 
 dividuals or the publick, he conscientiously dis- 
 charges. He defrauds no one, however strong the 
 temptation may be ; and he conceals nothing, the 
 disclosure of which would benefit his neighbour 
 and injure his own interest. 
 
 Particularly, if Providence has called him to 
 embrace the profession of a merchant, punctuality, 
 integrity, and honour mark his character. In his 
 commercial transactions he manifests a willingness, 
 that other men should live decently as well as him- 
 self. He does not therefore unmercifully grind the 
 faces of the poor, compelling them to toil for less 
 than a reasonable profit ; nor does he on any occa- 
 sion take an advantage of the necessities of the me- 
 chanick and common labourer, building up a fortune 
 on the fatigue, the hunger, and the tears of the 
 indigent. He is as just to the government under 
 which he lives, as to individuals, not defrauding 
 the publick revenue, nor engaging in any kinds of 
 prohibited commerce; and in his soul he abhors, 
 and conscientiously abstains from, all trade and ad- 
 
SERMON IV. 55 
 
 ventures, which are contrary to common equity 
 and humanity. He disdains therefore to grow rich 
 by enslaving his fellow men, the unfortunate inhab- 
 itants of a torrid climate. Believing that he is ever 
 in the presence of God, he is as just, when no hu- 
 man eye beholds him, as when his actions are dis- 
 played before all the world. 
 
 Whilst he is upright in all his words and con- 
 duct, he guides his affairs with discretion. Per- 
 suaded that business cannot be transacted with 
 advantage, still less that a fortune can be acquired, 
 nay more that even embarrassments, and poverty, 
 and ruin cannot be avoided, without discretion, he 
 is prudent in forming his plans, diligent in execut- 
 ing them, and frugal in the use of the profit, which 
 is derived from them. He is diligent, because 
 Heaven has been pleased to ordain, with the wisest 
 and best designs, that man should be subjected to 
 constant labour either of the body or mind. Then 
 only is he happy, when he is actively engaged. 
 His life is sweet and healthful, when he moves with 
 rapidity ; but when his exertions cease, his mind 
 and body become a prey to languor and spleen, to 
 imaginary terrours, and real chagrin. He is pru- 
 dent and frugal, because a competence cannot be 
 obtained ; and even the most ample fortune cannot 
 be preserved from diminution, without foresight, 
 vigilance, and economy. For whatever the means 
 
56 SERMON IV. 
 
 of the richest man may be, they are never so nu- 
 merous, as the temptations which are thrown in 
 his way. He, who annually spends his thousands, 
 and thinks them not sufficient for the gratification 
 of all his wants, would find ten thousands unable 
 to satisfy him. Solicited daily by his appetites, 
 his taste, or his love of elegance and splendour, he 
 must deny himself many pleasures, and forego 
 many agreeable plans, if he would avoid spending 
 more than his income. A forgetfulness of these 
 truths has plunged into poverty many persons, who 
 have commenced life with large possessions ; and 
 hence it is, that wealth seldom descends to the 
 third generation. The industry and prudence, by 
 which the father acquired and secured it, are re- 
 mitted by the son ; the delusive call of pleasure is 
 listened to ; and a short career of profusion and 
 dissipation is closed with ruin and wretchedness. 
 
 Such is the imperfection of human virtues, and 
 so apt is man to carry any habit to an extreme, that 
 he, who is discreet and economical in the manage- 
 ment of his concerns, will be in danger of becom- 
 ing parsimonious. Against this extreme the servant 
 of God, of whose actions piety is the animating 
 principle, carefully guards himself: he is not only 
 just but merciful ; there is room in his heart for 
 compassion, as well as for integrity. Whilst he is 
 industrious in acquiring property, and prudent in 
 
SERMON IV. 57 
 
 the use of it, he conscientiously pays all his debts. 
 Among these debts he considers none more sacred, 
 than that which he owes to the poor. He reli- 
 giously therefore appropriates a portion of his in- 
 come to this benevolent purpose. Considering 
 those who are in adversity as his brothers, he 
 relieves their wants as far as his abilities extend. 
 He visits the fatherless and widows, feeds the hun- 
 gry, and clothes the naked. Without listening to 
 the selfish observations of penurious men, who re- 
 present the poor as idle, intemperate and dishonest, 
 and consequently as deserving their fate, he, on the 
 contrary, attends to the dictates of a compassionate 
 heart. He is sensible that hunger, nakedness, and 
 cold are not less evils, because the sufferer has 
 brought them on himself; and that the indigent, 
 though perhaps in a degree criminal, are still enti- 
 tled to pity. What after all can his alms efiiBct, 
 even when they are the most bountiful ? Can they 
 restore the poor man to prosperity, if he has fallen 
 from it ; or raise him to it, if he has never been in 
 such a state ? No : all that they can do is to re- 
 lieve his present wants ; and will he hesitate to 
 do this, because the famished wretch is not entire- 
 ly innocent? What mercy can he expect himself 
 from Heaven, if his heart is so inhuman ? Ought 
 he not, in imitation of his Creator, to consider the 
 frame of man, and to remember that he is dust ? 
 8 
 
58 SERMON IV. 
 
 The just man therefore assists the wretched, even 
 when their poverty is the effect of their vices. 
 
 But to the virtuous poor his bounty flows in 
 more copious streams. Not waiting to receive the 
 petitions of modest indigence, ever afraid of an un- 
 gracious repulse, his active charity seeks out such 
 meritorious objects ; and he conveys his donations 
 to them in the most obhging manner, carefully 
 avoiding to depress their hearts with a sense of 
 painful inferiority. 
 
 To the industrious and honest, who are strug- 
 gling with the difliculiies, which so frequently at- 
 tend the beginning of life, the just man shows 
 peculiar favour. He assists them with his advice, 
 devises for them plans, by which they may most 
 readily earn a subsistence. Introduces and recom- 
 mends them to others, who may patronize and em- 
 ploy them, and indulges them with a liberal credit. 
 
 The character, which I have thus exhibited to 
 your view, is a portrait of our deceased friend. 
 He was eminently a just man. The largest portion 
 of his life was devoted to the pursuits of commerce, 
 in which he was actively and profitably engaged; 
 and one great source of his profits was the habit 
 of appearing at his place of business at an early 
 hour in the morning, whilst others were still im- 
 mersed in sleep. In a town, where the character 
 
SERMON IV. 59 
 
 of a fair and honourable merchant is with justice 
 so highly prized, he attained a reputation among 
 the first. His punctuality and strict integrity are 
 still remembered by all, who ever did business 
 with him. 
 
 Having retired from the more active scenes of 
 business, the latter part of his life was chiefly em- 
 ployed in the care of his estate, in visits to the 
 most interesting parts of our country, in attention 
 and kindness to his family and friends, in promoting 
 works of publick utility, to which he was always a 
 liberal contributor, and in deeds of chanty. 
 
 The discreet economy, with which he conducted 
 himself, enabled him to be thus liberal, without im- 
 pairing his property. He was industrious and pru- 
 dent in the former part of life, and at every period 
 moderate in his own expenses. In his dress, man- 
 ners, and habits in general he was simple and plain. 
 The wealth, which so many others heedlessly 
 waste in extravagance and dissipation, he devoted 
 to better purposes. 
 
 The relative duties of life he discharged with 
 affection. He loved his family and friends; and 
 they loved him. Where the character of a good 
 man is peculiarly displayed, there did he shine; in 
 the situations of a son, a husband, a father, and a 
 brother. 
 
eo SERMON IV, 
 
 His manners were cheerful and open ; in speech 
 he was cautious, never suffering a word of censure 
 or slander to escape from his Hps ; in his temper he 
 was placable; and I have never known a man, who 
 was more ready to overlook an affront, and to for- 
 give an injury. 
 
 In his religion he was without ostentation ; but 
 we have reason to believe that his benevolence and 
 other virtues flowed from the best source, the fear 
 and love of God. He was a christian, and he 
 thought it his duty to make an open profession of 
 the religion of the gospel. Of the church, to 
 vt^hich he belonged, he was a beneficent member, 
 and zealous in promoting its interest. But howev- 
 er great his zeal might be, it was exceeded by his 
 candour. Mild and kind, he always treated other 
 denominations of christians with respect : there 
 was no prejudice and bigotry in his heart; and he 
 would not vindicate even what he deemed impor- 
 tant with heat and bitterness. 
 
 The reward of his industry, prudence, and be- 
 nevolence was a life of distinguished prosperity, 
 and above all a cheerful temper. He passed 
 through the world pleasantly, blessing others and 
 blessed himself. 
 
 When such a man dies, his death is felt as a loss 
 to the city in which he resided, to the church of 
 which he was a member, and to his family and 
 
SERMON IV. 61 
 
 friends, who manifest by their tears how dear he 
 was to their hearts. But we learn from the text, 
 that his memory is blessed ; that is, as the word 
 signifies, his memory is sweet: like a fragrant in- 
 cense, it perfumes the air, and diffuses blessing 
 through an extensive circle of the world. 
 
 II. This truth, which I now proceed, in the 
 second place, to consider, must afford great satis- 
 faction to the breast of the just man. He will not, 
 and he cannot, possibly live or die for himself 
 only. Every act of virtue, which he performs, 
 blesses his own heart; and it is a still more ex- 
 tended blessing to others. Whilst he hved, he ed- 
 ified by his good deeds all, by whom he was sur- 
 rounded; and the influence of his just and chari- 
 table works is not destroyed by his death. The 
 memory of his virtues consoles in particular his be- 
 reaved friends, and blunts the keen edge of afflic- 
 tion, which has been sharpened by his loss. For 
 sweet in the ears of the mourner is the sound of 
 praise, when it is justly bestowed on a departed 
 husband or father; precious are the tears, which 
 are shed to his remembrance ; dear is the sympa- 
 thy, which is manifested by his acquaintance and 
 fellow citizens: but over the tomb of the vitious 
 man no accents of praise are uttered, no tears ^are 
 shed, and no sympathy is felt. 
 
62 SERMON IV. 
 
 The memory of the just is blessed in a still more 
 eraphatical manner, because the odour of his exam- 
 ple remains many years after his decease. The 
 character of an industrious, honest, and good man 
 is held up as a model for the young, by those who 
 undertake to instruct them in the principles of 
 virtue, and to guard them against the snares of 
 temptation. For it is not sufficient to inculcate 
 the precepts of morality, unless at the same time 
 it can be shown how they were exhibited in real 
 life. If when we recommend dihgence, honesty, 
 or charity, we can name the deceased worthy, who 
 was active, upright, or beneficent, our exhortations 
 make a deeper impression; and virtue is felt to be, 
 not only lovely, but practicable. 
 
 The influence of a good example on a man's 
 children and descendants is in particular beneficial. 
 A veneration for the memory of a deceased father, 
 who acquired an honourable rank among his con- 
 temporaries by his integrity, is unquestionably a 
 powerful motive, which operates on the hearts of 
 many, to restrain them from meanness and vice. 
 They are ashamed to disgrace the character of 
 their parent, and to descend from the high station, 
 to which he had attained. The effect of his good 
 example extends, not only to his children, but to 
 his grandchildren, and still more remote posterity. 
 Where his name is preserved, — and it will gene- 
 
SERMON IV. 63 
 
 rally be preserved by descendants, whose breasts 
 are filled with manly, honourable, and generous 
 sentiments, — it continues to impart blessings to 
 many generations ; and for a long succession of 
 years after his body is mouldered in the tomb, it 
 scatters among his offspring the incense of virtue. 
 
 Thus the memory of the just is blessed, because 
 he blesses his descendants, by inducing them to 
 imitate his meritorious example : he also blesses 
 them, because he imparts to them a high degree of 
 delight, which will last as long as life lasts. There 
 is no pleasure superiour to that, which is afforded 
 by a descent from worthy progenitors ; and if a 
 human being may lawfully be proud of any thing, 
 there is nothing; of which he has a better ri^fht to 
 be proud, than of being able to say with truth, my 
 father was an honest man. 
 
 Such is the sense, in which the memory of the 
 just is blessed ; and in this sense blessed is the 
 memory of our deceased friend. I will conclude 
 the subject by presenting before you one or two 
 considerations, which have been suggested by his 
 death. 
 
 The first is, that you should endeavour, by the 
 practice of the duties of industry, honesty, and 
 charity, to acquire and secure a good reputation. 
 This you should do, not for your own sake merely ; 
 
64 SERMON IV. 
 
 but for the benefit of others ; that you may increase 
 the happiness and virtue of alJ, to whom your name 
 will ever be known, and of your children and de- 
 scendants in particular. The love of fame is gen- 
 erally an improper principle of conduct; but there 
 is one view, in which it may be regarded as a 
 laudable motive. It is wrong to pursue it for its 
 own sake, and for the pleasure which it is supposed 
 to yield : and when it is followed with this inten- 
 tion, the pursuit ends in nothing but disappointment 
 and mortification ; but it is right to seek after it as 
 a valuable inheritance, which you may bequeath to 
 your children. In this respect every good man 
 owes much to those, who are to come after him ; 
 and he should endeavour to distinguish himself by 
 his labours, talents, and virtues ; that his posterity 
 in all future generations may bless his memory, and 
 derive honour and moral improvement from his 
 character. Such an inheritance is a more precious 
 donation to your family than an estate ; because 
 experience shows, that the latter is for the most 
 part soon dissipated and passes into other hands ; 
 whilst the advantage, which is derived from your 
 good name can never be lost, can never be alien- 
 ated, can never be embezzled. 
 
 Another consideration, which is suggested by the 
 death of our friend, is that it is a warning to those 
 of you, who are advanced beyond the meridian of 
 
SERMON IV. 65 
 
 life, that you will soon be summoned to follow him. 
 By his exit a barrier between you and the grave is 
 removed. Thirty-eight years have elapsed, since 
 you joined with our friend in renewing this reli- 
 gious society, which had been suspended during the 
 war of the revolution. Those of you, who sur- 
 vive, were then young ; but you have now entered 
 within the confines of old age. Your fathers, who 
 aided you, are all of them gone ; and you are re- 
 duced to a small number. Soon not one of you 
 will be left. This is a truth, which is adapted to 
 alarm you. It is in vain to pretend, that you can 
 look on death without a melancholy eye, or that 
 you can without reluctance " resign this pleasing, 
 anxious being." It is to be hoped that you have 
 endeavoured to secure to yourselves an inheritance 
 in a better world. But though you must soon 
 leave this church to the management of those, who 
 have youth and more strength than yourselves ; yet 
 you have reason to believe that you leave it in safe 
 and careful hands. If you have in any measure 
 advanced the cause of free inquiry and rational 
 Christianity, your children and successors, I trust, 
 will not impair the work, which you have begun ; 
 but I have the fullest confidence, that they will 
 strive to go on to perfection. 
 
 Finally, another consideration, which is suggest- 
 ed by the death of our friend, is, that nothing is of 
 9 
 
66 SERMON IV. 
 
 much value, except piety and virtue. Even the 
 love of truth is chiefly estimable, because it con- 
 tributes to this end. Of all the earthly blessings, 
 which our friend enjoyed, not one is now left, ex- 
 cept the reputation of a just man. He can no 
 more take a part in the pursuits and pleasures of 
 this world ; his body is lifeless, and his hands are 
 bound with indissoluble chains. But whilst reli- 
 gion teaches us, that he is an immortal being, we 
 have sufficient cause to believe that his soul is not 
 extinct. A day is approaching, when he will be 
 restored to life, when he will rise an incorruptible 
 body, without any of the imperfections, which bur- 
 dened it in the present state. Let therefore his 
 fiiends be comforted with these words : Jesus 
 Christ has brought Hfe and immortality to light 
 through the gospel. We shall meet him again. 
 Let us rejoice in this hope ; and let us ascribe unto 
 God, who by his Son has opened unto us the gates 
 of everlasting life, all glory and honour, gratitude 
 and praise, forever and ever. Amen. 
 
NOTE. 
 
 Mr. Coolidge was born in Boston, July 
 27th. 1747, O. S. and died October 6th. 1820. 
 The following Notice of his character appeared in 
 the Columbian Centinel for October 14th. 
 
 "Our late highly respectable citizen, Joseph 
 Coolidge, Esq. was adorned with those principles 
 and virtues, which gained the esteem of the pub- 
 lick, and made him a valuable and useful member 
 of society. Distinguished as a merchant for his 
 activity, punctuality, and strict integrity, he ac- 
 quired an independent property, which he enjoyed 
 with gratitude, and dispensed libeially. He was 
 ever a friend to the prosperity, and delighted in 
 the improvement of his native town. He was for 
 many years a Director of the former United States 
 Branch Bank, and Massachusetts Bank, one of the 
 first and most active Directors of the Middlesex 
 Canal Corporation, and until the time of his death 
 a Trustee of the Humane Society. He was a pi- 
 
68 NOTE. 
 
 ous christian and a humane man. God had given 
 him a fine form of body, a manly, open, and prepos- 
 sessing countenance, a clear and accurate mind, a 
 cheerful, constant, and uncommon flow of spirits, 
 courteous nianners, and a feeling heart. He was 
 an excellent husband, a kind, indulgent, and most 
 affectionate father. His naturally firm constitu- 
 tion continued unimpaired almost to the close of 
 life and enabled him to enjoy the society of his 
 friends, whom he sincerely loved. A journey to 
 the Springs, which he recently took for the benefit 
 of his health, afforded him but little relief; but he 
 was impressed with gratitude for the attention and 
 sympathy of friends and strangers, whom he met 
 with there. After his return home, his decline was 
 rapid. Fully aware of his situation, he was calm 
 and resigned, and sunk gradually to rest, leaving a 
 name, which will be ever gratefully cherished by 
 his tamily and friends."