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THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 A SERMON 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH 
 
 t 
 
 Cjp Instill: 
 
 IRrigljt, 
 
 PREACHED TO THE 
 
 FAMILIES OF THE HISTORIAN MISSION, 
 
 AT 
 
 OROOMIAH, PERSIA, FEB. Sth, 1865. 
 
 By BEY. J. PERKINS, D. D. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 EDWARD O. JENKINS, PRINTER, 
 No. 20 North William Street. 
 
 1865 . 
 
From the Records of the Nestorian Mission: 
 
 ' ■ % 
 
 Voted, That Dr. Perkins be requested to furnish a copy of his Sermon 
 preached in memory of our lamented Associate Dr. Wright, for the 
 Archives, and also a copy for the use of the Prudential Committee. 
 
 Feb. n, 1865. 
 
 J. H. SHEDD. 
 
TO 
 
 Slu Widow awd ©rjrftattis 
 
 or 
 
 “THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN,” 
 
 THIS SERMON 
 
 AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED BY THEIR DEEPLY 
 SYMPATHIZING FRIEND, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2018 with funding from 
 Columbia University Libraries 
 
 https://archive.org/details/belovedphysicianOOperk 
 
SERMON. 
 
 “Thebeloved physician.” —Col. iv. 11. 
 
 “ The disciple whom Jesus loved.” —John xix. 26 
 
 When these two Scripture quotations, among others, were 
 read at our brother’s interment, none present could help re¬ 
 sponding to their beautiful appropriateness to his case. It was 
 said, by some one, of the late John Angel James, of Birming¬ 
 ham, that it took two apostles to describe him, John and James ; 
 and another facetiously added that it required also an angel be¬ 
 tween the two apostles. We have no heart to indulge in hyper¬ 
 bole on this solemn and mournful occasion. The remarkably 
 faultless character of our departed brother needs none ; nay, its 
 transparent simplicity and scrupulously sensitive truthfulness 
 forbid it. Nor have we come together mainly to pronounce, or 
 hear pronounced a funeral eulogy, in the common acceptation 
 of that term. Our tears are not yet dry since our communion, 
 four months ago, was made a funeral occasion by the removal 
 of Miss Fiske, who died far away. Now, added to that sore 
 affliction, the pall of death has again fallen upon our circle in a 
 yet more affecting form, suddenly taking from our midst our 
 u beloved physician,” “ the disciple whom Christ loved.” 
 
 It is then to weep and mutually condole, rather than to eulo¬ 
 gize, that we are assembled to-day. Yet in doing so it is meet 
 that we endeavor to catch a few glimpses of the pathway, mark 
 some of the leading traits, and garner some of the precious 
 memories of our brother, to enshrine them the more deeply in 
 our hearts for our own benefit. And while we have no disposi¬ 
 tion to apply Scripture inappropriately in this or any other 
 case, we need not conceal our impression of the suitableness of 
 associating with his memory, in the choice of our text, the two 
 
 / 
 
6 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 evangelists, Luke and John, not merely from the circumstance 
 that he was a physician as well as a preacher, but also from the 
 traits possessed respectively in common, whether we contem¬ 
 plate the deep and almost mysterious pathos of one of those 
 evangelists, or the genial amiability and refined culture of the 
 other. 
 
 On the late mournful occasion to which I have referred, it 
 may be recollected that I uttered the prayer that I might 
 never again be called to preach the funeral sermon of a 
 younger associate. And could I properly have declined the 
 appointment in this instance, I would have done so; not that 
 the task is ungrateful to me ; it is quite the reverse, deeply try¬ 
 ing as it is; but the event that occasions it is so sorrowful and 
 so profoundly to be deplored. “ I was dumb, and opened not 
 my mouth, because Thou didst it.” 
 
 The Rev. Austin Hazen Wright was born in Hartford, Ver¬ 
 mont, Nov. 11, 1811. If any one of you, like the speaker, had 
 crossed the Green Mountains from Middlebury, Vt., to Hano¬ 
 ver, N. IT., by the old stage route, leaving the former place in 
 the afternoon, threading the wild gorges and ravines of that 
 American Switzerland during the night, and issuing on the 
 lower eastern slope at the White River village in Hartford, just 
 with the rising sun, he might pronounce that one of the most 
 charming localities on the face of the globe ; combining a sin¬ 
 gularly rich variety of rural landscape, of mountain heights 
 and cliff, and crag, and winding valley and velvet meadows, 
 through which the silvery White River hastens onward to pour 
 its limpid waters into the broader Connecticut, gliding trans¬ 
 versely now just before us. About a mile south of that vil¬ 
 lage, on the road, leading thence to Windsor, Dr. Wright first 
 opened his eyes upon this world. His parents dying when he 
 was quite young, he met the hard lot of an orphan, yet it was 
 rendered much less hard in his case than that of most orphans, 
 for he was adopted by his excellent maternal uncle—the Rev. 
 Austin Hazen, the father of our late esteemed associate, Mrs. 
 Stoddard, and of the Rev. Allen Hazen, missionary at Bombay, 
 lie had thus one of the best of homes and best of guardians, 
 growing up in the attractive neighborhood where he was born, 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 7 
 
 under tlie tender and careful watcli of tliat very estimable New 
 England pastor. Our brother not only bore the name of that 
 maternal uncle, but resembled him not a little in character, and, 
 if I mistake not, also in person. It v T as my privilege to make 
 the acquaintance of that good man during my first visit in 
 America, more than twenty years ago, when he inquired of me 
 most affectionately for “ our dear brother Wright,” as he called 
 him, though he might have said “ son,” from personal likeness 
 as well as from guardianship. Dr. Wright was trained in his 
 childhood in the plain style of Puritan simplicity and frugality, 
 the intelligent and intellectual pastor of the Green Mountain 
 village, milking his own cow and tending his horse, and his 
 filial ward, when old enough, rejoicing to assist him in those 
 and similar duties. 
 
 He was fitted for college at the academy in Royalton, an¬ 
 other mountain village, some ten or fifteen miles above his 
 home, on the same romantic White River. Among his fellow 
 pupils there was Mr. Chase, now Judge of the Supreme Court 
 of the United States. 
 
 He entered Dartmouth College, which is but three or four 
 miles from his birth-place, at the age of fifteen, being the 
 youngest scholar in his class and in the college at that time. 
 Prominent among his class-mates was Dr. A. D. Smith, late 
 of New York, and now President of the college. He was not 
 a Christian when in college, and though his good early educa¬ 
 tion kept him from many of the temptations incident to his 
 situation, he has often told me that he wasted his time there, 
 being very fond of play, “feeling” thirty years afterward, “ the 
 hard hicks ” at foot-ball of some of his youthful companions, 
 and being too young to prize and improve his college advan¬ 
 tages. If such, however, was the fact, his subsequent ten years 
 of teaching and theological and medical study must have gone 
 very far to redeem his lost time in college, and render him the 
 accomplished scholar we have known him. 
 
 We recall the event of a powerful revival in Dartmouth Col¬ 
 lege in 1820, when he was connected with it, in which he was 
 more or less interested, and was the subject of much prayerful 
 interest on the part of others. He has more than once men- 
 
8 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN". 
 
 tioned to me a trifling incident in tliat connection. His cousin, 
 the Rev. Ira Tracy, from the same Hartford, Vt., for some time 
 a missionary to China, who was a year his senior in college, on 
 visiting his room for religions conversation with him, took down 
 from its shelf his Bible, and carefully blowing the dust from 
 its cover, thus delicately conveyed a gentle admonition, which 
 was a nail fastened in a sure place. 
 
 Graduating at Dartmouth College in 1830, he soon w r ent to 
 Virginia, and engaged in teaching more or less in a female 
 seminary, and he remained in that State nearly ten years, up 
 to the period of his embarking in the missionary work, that 
 was to him not only a land of promise but also rich in blessings. 
 There he found the pearl of great price. There he pursued his 
 theological course in the excellent Union Seminary at Prince 
 Edward. And there he studied medicine in the very ably offi¬ 
 cered University of Virginia, at Charlottesville. His recollec¬ 
 tions of his Southern sojourn were always most grateful. His 
 associate in teaching there, for a period, now a professor in 
 Dartmouth College, once playfully said of him that the only 
 peril which Dr. Wright encountered in Virginia was that of a 
 handsome young Northerner amid the hospitalities and amenities 
 of Southern society. He, however, passed that ordeal un¬ 
 harmed—only refined. 
 
 Having thoroughly * completed his preparations for his life 
 work, he was ordained and returned to the North and took 
 leave of his friends, and sailing at Boston, in March, 1840, he 
 reached Oroomiah on the 25tli of the following July. He came 
 to us quite alone , having no missionary companion either on the 
 ocean or on the land. He met his noble, heroic predecessor, 
 Dr. Grant, at Ezroom, who had then just emerged from his stir¬ 
 ring adventures in Ivoordistan, and was on his w r ay to visit 
 America. With characteristic modesty, our brother wrote to 
 us from that city that he could never fill the place of that re¬ 
 markable man. With the same unpretending modesty, in the 
 matter of equipage, he surrendered himself on the roacl to his 
 native guides and muleteers, without the comfort of even a 
 tent, to be brought to Oroomiah in a caravan of merchandise 
 at their slow and capricious rates of travel, and was so long a 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 9 
 
 time on the way as to give ns no little solicitude before bis 
 arrival. 
 
 About three years after lie reached Oroomiah, it was my 
 privilege to introduce to his acquaintance Miss Catharine A. 
 Myers, who came out with us after our first visit to America, in 
 company with Miss Fiske, as a teacher, a lady every way 
 worthy of his heart and his hand, whom, just a year from the 
 day of their first meeting, I united to him in marriage, in a 
 room in my dwelling adjoining the one in which he expired— 
 where we watched him so anxiously during his last sickness, 
 and whence the angels conveyed his freed spirit to its mansion 
 in heaven. In proportion as that conjugal union was one of the 
 unspeakable blessings and untold happiness to both of them, 
 must, of course, be the poignancy of that bitter grief which will 
 pierce her stricken, desolate heart, when the sorrowful tidings 
 now winging their way to her shall reach her and clothe her 
 in sackcloth. 
 
 The beloved physician , 
 
 The disciple whom Jesus loved. 
 
 It is fitting that we glance somewhat particularly at the 
 character and life of our brother, thus summarily indicated in 
 these texts, which we may conveniently do by contemplating 
 him as a man, as a scholar , as a Christian , and as a missionary. 
 
 I. Viewed as a man, it is quite superfluous to say here that 
 Dr. Wright’s natural talents were of a high order, and that the 
 powers and faculties of his mind were finely balanced. And 
 no one acquainted with him could doubt that he was also natu¬ 
 rally one of the most gentle and amiable of mortals. In him, 
 however, these traits were positive ; far enough from that list¬ 
 less negation of character which they are supposed sometimes 
 to import. His views and opinions were always clear and well 
 defined ; decidedly, yet modestly and courteously maintained, 
 and firmly defended if occasion required. 
 
 There was a completeness in his character which we seldom 
 behold in a human being, and which, in proportion to its rare 
 symmetry, we find it difficult to describe in the absence of 
 those salient points of more imperfect men, just as we find it 
 more difficult to delineate a smooth sphere, or a level prairie, 
 
10 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 than a rugged surface or a variated landscape. How much, lie 
 was indebted to natural traits, and how much to educating and 
 forming influences from without for such singular perfection of 
 character, it is of course not easy to determine. Our impres¬ 
 sion is that he w T as much indebted to both. Born and reared 
 under the shadow of the Green Mountains, whose very atmos¬ 
 phere inspires the stern and noble impulses of virtue, of Puri¬ 
 tan pedigree, and under the strict religious training of a Hew 
 England pastor, and there shaped to the straight lines and 
 right angles of a Hew England college curriculum , we may 
 conceive of him at his graduation as an approved sample of 
 a Horthern young gentleman a generation ago, of good public 
 education and stainless morals, but lacking somewhat the ease 
 and polish which were then less common in that latitude than 
 in more Southern sections of our country, and which subse¬ 
 quently he so largely possessed. 
 
 At that still forming age, of nineteen or twenty, he is sud¬ 
 denly transferred to Richmond as a teacher, where he is cor¬ 
 dially welcomed to the best circles—the Christian elite of that 
 refined metropolis of the Old Dominion, moving freely in its 
 elegant and excellent society for several years. Feeling the 
 warmth of those ardent and generous temperaments, where, to 
 use his own expression, the tables groaned under the weight of 
 their hospitality, and receiving the strong impress of their un¬ 
 rivaled social accomplishments, his character, as if cast into an 
 alembic, was fused, and in a measure re-cry stalked to the 
 finest models; yet all this without losing an iota of the sterling 
 straightforwardness of his Horthern birthright. Such I believe, 
 in general, to have been the process in the formation of his 
 character as a man, combining obviously very peculiar advan¬ 
 tages, and producing results which we have all so much and so 
 justly admired. 
 
 His accomplished manners thus acquired, which however had 
 nothing of mannerism , contributed largely to fit him to fill so 
 successfully, without the slightest affectation or embarrassment, 
 every condition and every sphere to which duty subsequently 
 called him. He v T as perfectly at home alike with the haughty 
 Persian Moollah, the self-complaisant Prince, or the European 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 11 
 
 Ambassador. By all he was recognized as a man of rich and 
 varied culture, of unpretending bearing—though always of as¬ 
 sured self-possession, and of artless, unsophisticated urbanity, 
 combined with rare discrimination and unswerving integrity. 
 
 Among the poor and uneducated on the other hand, such was 
 the overflowing kindness of his heart, that he had not even to 
 condescend to men of low estate to mingle with them, for he was 
 one with them in feeling; and from the transparency of his 
 character, seen to be such, he at once won their confidence and 
 affection. None, high or low, could ever doubt his disposition 
 to treat them kindly and do them good to the utmost extent 
 in his power. Thus was he truly “ a man greatly beloved.” 
 
 Possessing such a character as a man, I hardly need state 
 that we have found him a very social and most agreeable com¬ 
 panion, always acting on the apostolic injunction, u Be cour¬ 
 teous nay, more, very tender and considerate of the feelings 
 of all others, hardly ever uttering an unadvised word, even 
 under provocation, remarkably unselfish, unsuspecting, and 
 pure-minded, eminently a j peace-maker , yet equally truthful and 
 honest, and always unwearied in his exertions to serve, to cheer, 
 to comfort and to bless every member of our community, old 
 or young. 
 
 Were we to attempt to gauge this beloved man in the rela¬ 
 tions of a husband and a father, we should find his heart a 
 great deep, altogether unfathomable. Never probably did any 
 man ever cherish a more yearning tenderness towards his wife 
 and children, nor more uniformly and evenly exemplify it, with 
 fewer ripples of feeling, by any disturbance of that great deep 
 of affection. Often, in years subsequent to his marriage, has 
 he expressed to me his gratitude for having been instrumental 
 in bringing to Persia such a boon as that loving and faithful 
 wife; an expression, however, to which I might deem myself 
 little entitled, when I recall how much more God did, than 
 any human instrument, in the arrangement and consummation 
 of their union. 
 
 It can hardly be considered a defect, but rather a necessary 
 consequence of a mental and moral constitution so tender as 
 that of Dr. Wright, that he did not prominently possess some 
 
12 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 of the sterner elements of manhood, which come in useful 
 requisition in battling the hard conflicts of life, nor, least of all, 
 on missionary ground. I recall that about four years after he 
 reached our field, on being appointed with another of our num¬ 
 ber to visit Tehran, if possible, to prevent the execution of the 
 scheme of the French Jesuits, united with malevolent Persian 
 officials, to break up our mission and effect our expulsion from 
 the country, the appointment affected him to tears, while he 
 touchingly begged to be excused from accepting it, remarking 
 that he was born a man of peace and not of war. Not that 
 he shrank from the physical exposures of a horseback journey, 
 in winter, of more than a thousand miles both ways; but his 
 modest timidity and sensitive spirit did shrink from the moral 
 encounters which the enterprise involved. Unwelcome as was 
 that undertaking to the speaker, I felt a peculiar satisfaction 
 in relieving him of it. 
 
 As, however, his experience increased, and his character was 
 disciplined and strengthened under the hard pressure of accu¬ 
 mulated missionary duties and burdens, a pressure admirably 
 fitted, if improved, to make the most of men, he long ago 
 developed capabilities, not only for passive endurance, but also 
 for active interference in most trying emergencies, unsurpassed 
 by those of any other man ever connected with the mission, 
 and which have been much oftener and much longer laid 
 under contribution ; and sometimes he has displayed a hero¬ 
 ism, in such emergencies, bordering on the sublime. When, 
 for instance, Mar Shimon, the late patriarch, was running 
 his violent career of persecution at Oroomiah, and his ruffian 
 satellites had beaten Mar Yoliaunan and some others, on our 
 mission premises, and he furiously threatened beating our per¬ 
 sonal servants if they did not summarily leave us, Dr. Wright, 
 in his calm, meek dignity, waited on the patriarch and offered 
 an earnest remonstrance, winding it up, with his hand raised 
 in protestation, and the significant declaration, “ Mar Shimon, 
 if you touch my servant you touch me !” Under the majesty 
 of this impressive rebuke from outraged meekness and gentle¬ 
 ness, the haughty patriarch succumbed. 
 
 At a scene occurring about the same time, in the court of 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 13 
 
 tlie chief Moollah, of Oroomiah, thronged a mob of excited 
 Nestorians, the tools of Mar Shimon, who threatened to stone 
 ns—an ordeal to try men’s souls—his calm, firm self-possession, 
 when acting as our spokesman, is also well remembered. 
 
 II. The scholarship of Dr. Wright was rather solid and 
 finished than brilliant or showy. As already suggested, if his 
 self-accusations that he wasted his time in college had founda¬ 
 tion, his subsequent industry and success, during his ten years 
 residence in Virginia, must have redeemed that loss; for he 
 came to us, at the age of twenty-nine, a ripe general scholar. 
 The very completeness of his scholarship, as was true of his 
 character as a man, presented few salient points to attract obser¬ 
 vation. His judgment was so careful and accurate, and his 
 taste so well disciplined and chaste, that he almost never com¬ 
 mitted a noticeable fault in writing. Indeed, in this matter, 
 we may easily conceive him, as already hinted, strongly to 
 have resembled u the beloved physician,” who, with such 
 classic elegance and graphic force, penned the third Gospel and 
 the Acts of the Apostles. If his mind was not massive, it did 
 not lack in compass ; and if his imagination was not its pre¬ 
 dominant faculty, the working of his intellect was far enough 
 removed from tameness or servility. If it had not the rapid, 
 sweeping impetuosity of the wind, it had the richer attributes 
 of the deep, placid river, moving steadily onward in its wonted 
 course, often gently overflowing, and silently fertilizing and 
 adorning its shores. His style as a writer was beautifully 
 perspicuous, concise and simple, and at the same time forcible. 
 The British Embassy to Persia was at Ezroom when he first 
 came to this country. During the few weeks he was detained 
 there, the members of the embassy were among his auditors 
 on the Sabbath. One of them wrote thus to the speaker, in 
 remarking complimentarily of our prospective fellow-laborer; 
 he said, “ His sermons have been very much admired by our 
 party hereyet that party may be presumed to have been 
 not the most lenient of critics on such subjects. As beautiful 
 specimens of his admirable style, marked not only by his char¬ 
 acteristic conciseness and perspicuity, but also by deep and 
 touching pathos, we may mention his funeral sermon occasioned 
 
14 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 by the death of the first Mr. Rhea ; also, his sketch of the 
 revival here in 1849, which is published in the little volume 
 entitled “ Missionary Life in Persia.” That his style pos¬ 
 sessed much force, though devoid of all pretentious rhetoric, 
 we have had many proofs. One occurs to me, in an appeal 
 which he addressed to the Prudential Committee, in behalf of 
 the mission, for publishing the Peshito version of the Old 
 Testament in parallel columns with our translation from the 
 Hebrew. There had been a previous decision against the 
 measure, but, under the force of the appeal, that decision was 
 reversed. It was well said of that document by one of our 
 number when it was forwarded, that the subject was argued 
 with the clearness and the ability of a lawyer. 
 
 "We might dwell, were it necessary, on the rare beauty, ease 
 and interest of Dr. Wright’s epistolary style. All unstudied 
 as it was, yet that it could hardly be improved must have been 
 patent to us all. 
 
 On his arrival here he put in immediate requisition his fine 
 scholarship, by giving himself to the acquisition of the lan¬ 
 guages of the country, the Ancient and Modern Syriac (the 
 former he had studied, to some extent, while in the Theological 
 Seminary in America), the Turkish and the Persian. Ho other 
 member of our mission had ever made so extensive acquisitions 
 in languages. He applied himself eagerly to the study of them 
 during the three or four first years of his missionary life, and 
 has ever since been industriously adding to his knowledge of 
 them, perseveringly maintaining the habits and cultivating 
 the tastes of a growing scholar, always garnering with rigid 
 economy the scraps of his time and making the most of them ; 
 while, on the other hand, his manifold active duties, with all 
 the nameless distractions and interruptions involved in them, 
 have but increased his use of the languages they have led him 
 to employ, and so his acquaintance with them. His intellect¬ 
 ual tastes ran naturally in the line of languages rather than of 
 the sciences. 
 
 His fine scholarship has been conspicuous, not only in his 
 rapid and successful acquisition of languages, but also in 
 his effective use of them. His command of Syriac was very 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 15 
 
 accurate, free and forcible as a preacher. It was equally so in 
 his general intercourse with the Hestorians; and the same was 
 true of his use of the Turkish and Persian with the Moham¬ 
 medans. 
 
 All his rich scholarly acquisitions have been laid under no 
 less effective contribution, in connection with the department 
 of our Mission Press. On the departure of Mr. Holladay, twenty 
 years ago. Dr. Wright was appointed in his stead, to be asso¬ 
 ciated with me in the literary labors of the press. I well remem¬ 
 ber his response to the appointment. “ I had never supposed,” 
 he said, “ that such labors would fall to my lot on missionary 
 ground; I am passionately fond of them, and only hope they 
 will not tempt me to neglect other duties.” What an instructive 
 comment on these words have been his labors of the last twenty 
 years. He has shown all that fondness for literary work ; he 
 has not yielded to it to the detriment of any other missionary 
 claims. How usefully has his accurate knowledge of Hebrew, 
 and of the Ancient Syriac, and of the Hew Testament Greek 
 told on his thorough revisions of the Holy Scriptures; and how 
 patiently, perseveringly, and successfully have his protracted 
 labors been performed in the publication of our various edi¬ 
 tions. 
 
 His scholarship was well adapted to the work of a translator. 
 His clear discrimination, his nice, delicate taste in the selection 
 of words and phrases, and his admirably balanced and critical 
 judgment on the whole subject have been very advantageously 
 exerted, not only in his revisions of the Scriptures, but also on 
 several works which he has himself prepared for the press. 
 
 There are few tests of accurate scholarship more decisive 
 than the work of proof YQndmg ; and we have never had his 
 equal in the mission as a proof-reader; and no Hestorian, 
 except Deacon Joseph, has ever surpassed him in Syriac proof¬ 
 reading. Oh how many hundreds of times has his aching head 
 traced each line and each word of those daily recurring long 
 leader columns, carelessly composed and blindly printed, from 
 which there is no retreat nor respite for those connected with a 
 press, of which, however, he seldom complained though so often 
 wearied. 
 
16 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 Iiis neatness and precision as a scholar marked every thing 
 that came from his hands, in entire harmony with the same 
 general traits ever obvious in his person and whole character. 
 His elegant chirography never yet, to my knowledge, let slip a 
 careless scrawl, not even in the briefest note or memorandum. 
 And were we to examine the records of our mission, kept by 
 him as its Secretary for twenty years, we should find in them 
 ample proof of all that I have said of the accuracy and finish 
 of his scholarship. 
 
 I recall a testimony, bearing on this general subject, in con¬ 
 nection with his medical studies in Virginia, which it is in place 
 to record. In a few days’ journey in Charlottesville, during 
 my first visit to America, about two years after he attended 
 lectures there, the pastor (Mr. White) of the place told me 
 that, on leaving, he passed one of the best medical examina¬ 
 tions of any of the students at the University. 
 
 Yes, truly, very rich were the intellectual as well as the far 
 more precious moral treasures that were buried with this 
 scholarly man ; nay, rather, that are transferred, and are now, 
 in their vast expansion, far more felicitously employed in our 
 Father’s mansion. 
 
 III. <c A Christian is the highest style of man.” Much as 
 we have seen to admire in our departed brother as a man and 
 as a scholar, how much, immeasurably, does the interest of his 
 character as a Christian transcend all its other attributes. We 
 are not informed even of the year of his hopeful conversion, 
 but believe that it occurred in 1833 or 1834. Fie was still at 
 Richmond at the time; and amid all the other strong attrac¬ 
 tions that bound his heart to the place while there, and sweet¬ 
 ened the recollections of it ever afterward, his religious associa¬ 
 tions with it were always by far the most grateful. 
 
 We might, perhaps, have supposed, that one possessing so 
 much of natural amiability, and that, always fostered by the 
 genial influences of the best religious society, would hardly be 
 the subject of a very marked change, even in the momentous 
 event of conversion. The fact, I believe, was otherwise. He 
 had, all his life, been like the young ruler in the gospel, on 
 whom Jesus looked and loved him ; but one thing he lacked. 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 IT 
 
 There was at last, in liis case, a deep process of what the old 
 divines denominate law work. The thorough religious training 
 which he had received in childhood, rendered him all the more 
 cautious and anxious to dig deep and build his hopes for eter¬ 
 nity on the Rock ; and the remarkable conscientiousness, which 
 was ever so essential an element of his being, rendered him, 
 perhaps, too distrustful of the genuineness of those hopes. 
 
 That his consecration to Christ was most sincere and whole¬ 
 hearted, has been evinced by all his subsequent life. We have 
 also collateral evidence to the same effect, dating from that 
 period. With what interest have we all, since his death, in¬ 
 spected his Bible , bearing date on the fly-leaf, under his name, 
 u Richmond , 1834,” probably but a short time subsequent to 
 the period of his first cherishing the hope of a Christian. I 
 have a hallowed reverence for that Bible, as the unerring pilot 
 that has faithfully guided an often tempest-tossed soul safe over 
 all life’s billows to the haven of eternal rest. Such Bibles of 
 the departed good are the most sacred objects in this world. 
 The inspection of this treasure assures us that our brother’s 
 consecration was not only thoroughly heart-work, but also that 
 religion with him was, from the outset, a matter of patient, 
 watchful culture and earnest aspiration for progress in holi¬ 
 ness. On its blank leaves are notes and quotations, so’ signifi¬ 
 cant, as having been the practical mottos of his daily life, and 
 so strikingly exemplified in the very beautiful development 
 and growth of his Christian character, during the period of a 
 generation, that they well deserve a place in his funeral sermon. 
 First on the list, written in his own fair hand, is this : “ Search 
 the Scriptures below it, u Be prayerful“ Be studious 
 and still further down the page, the memorable motto of 
 Luther, “ Bene orasse est bene studuisse .” On the next blank 
 page, quoted in full, are the following texts of Scripture : 
 
 “ My grace is sufficient for thee; for my strength is made 
 perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I glory in my 
 infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”— 
 2 Cor. xii. 9. 
 
 “ In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy 
 paths.”—Prov. iii. 6. 
 
 2 
 
18 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 “ 0 Lord, I know that the way of man is not in himself; it 
 is not in man that walketh to direct his steps.”—Jer. x. 23. 
 
 On a blank leaf at the beginning of the New Testament are 
 the following quotations : 
 
 “ What! know ye not that your body is the temple of the 
 Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye 
 are not your own ? For ye are bought with a price ; therefore 
 glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God’s.” 
 —1 Cor. vi. 19, 20. 
 
 “ Giving no offence in any thing, that the ministry be not 
 blamed.”—2 Cor. vi. 3. 
 
 u Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown 
 of life.”—Bev. ii. 10. 
 
 “ And he said unto me, Depart; for I will send thee far 
 hence unto the Gentiles.”—Acts xxii. 21. 
 
 u Be clothed with humility.”—1 Peter v. 5. 
 
 Now was there ever a Christian man, or woman, whose living 
 experience was a more complete embodiment of this collection 
 of Scripture mottoes than that of our departed brother ? That 
 there have been those who have surpassed him in particular 
 Christian traits, and individual graces, we may not deny ; but 
 in the symmetrical combination, presenting one beautiful whole, 
 I have never known a superior model. And often, as his char¬ 
 acter now rises before me, another passage of Paul occurs to me 
 as its most faithful epitome: “Whatsoever things are true, 
 whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, what¬ 
 soever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatso¬ 
 ever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if 
 there be any praise, think on these things.” 
 
 And such, essentially as we have known him here, was he 
 remembered, as a Christian, in Virginia. I visited Bichmond at 
 the time above referred to, two years after he came to our field, 
 and found his memory very fresh and very fragrant there in the 
 two Presbyterian churches; indeed so much so, that those 
 churches, then recently alienated by the divisive measures of 
 1837 into Old School and New, were strongly disposed to 
 rivalry in claiming him, each church as its own beloved repre¬ 
 sentative on missionary ground; as was true also of Mr. ITolla- 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 19 
 
 day, another “ beloved disciple” from the same churches, whose 
 connection with our mission was such an unspeakable blessing 
 to us in the early period of its history. 
 
 Not long after our brother became a Christian he decided on 
 studying for the ministry, with direct reference to the mission¬ 
 ary work. Going from Richmond to the Union Theological 
 Seminary, he there enjoyed the best of Christian influences, as 
 well as able and faithful theological instruction. The venerable 
 Dr. John Holt Rice, the father of the Seminary, and long a 
 patriarch among the churches in Virginia, and whose praise was 
 in all the churches, both North and South, had been called to 
 his rest before Dr. Wright’s connection with the Institution; 
 but his mantle had fallen on his associates and successors; and 
 the whole atmosphere of Prince Edward was still redolent with 
 the savor of his cherished name. The memory of Dr. Rice 
 exerted a strong influence on our brother’s character. He 
 studied carefully his published biography. His was one of the 
 few likenesses which he kept in his study. He has been in cor¬ 
 respondence with the venerable widow of that apostolic man 
 during most of his missionary life; and pasted to a blank leaf 
 at the end of his Bible, are a few printed resolutions of Dr. 
 Rice, which, if he did not adopt them as his own, evidently had 
 more or less influence on his character; and as such it is proper 
 that we introduce them in this connection. They are the follow¬ 
 ing, which were found in Dr. Rice’s pocket-book after his death; 
 
 u What I resolve that I will endeavor to do. 
 
 “ 1st. Take food for nourishment and not for pleasure. Take 
 no more than is necessary, and be indifferent to the quality. 
 Sleep for refreshment and not for indulgence. Harden and 
 subdue my flesh by labor directed to useful purposes. Endeavor 
 to do as much useful work every day as I can. Dress as cheaply 
 as comports with decency. 
 
 “ 2d. To use all my property for benevolent purposes. Pay 
 every thing I owe as soon as possible. Save all that I can, by 
 simplicity of living, and by practicing self-denial, and give all 
 I can, in the exercise of sound discretion, to objects of benevo¬ 
 lence. Never spare name, property or reputation, if I can do 
 good. Necessary that I die poor. 
 
20 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 “ 3d. As to my disposition and conduct toward others : 1. En¬ 
 deavor to feel kindly to every one. Never indulge anger, 
 malice, envy or jealousy toward any human being. 2. En¬ 
 deavor to speak to and about every one as I ought, aiming in 
 all things that I say to promote the comfort, improvement and 
 happiness of every one. 3. Endeavor to act as to advance, (1.) 
 the present comfort, (2.) the intellectual improvement, (3.) the 
 purity and highest good of all my fellow-men. 
 
 “ As to my Creator: To endeavor to fix in my mind more 
 deeply all truth that I can possibly discover respecting Him, and 
 to feel, think and act, in every respect, in correspondence with 
 that truth. Finally, when I have done all, to acknowledge that 
 I am nothing, and my Creator has a right to do with me as 
 seems good to Him.” 
 
 We can hardly mistake the image and superscription of a 
 portion, at least, of these resolutions instamped on Dr. Wright’s 
 life and character. 
 
 But the grand model that filled his eye and his heart was of 
 no earthly mould. It was the blessed Saviour. He habitually 
 looked unto Jesus.- The first sermon that he preached, the Sab¬ 
 bath after his arrival here, was from the text, “We would see 
 Jesus;” in which he touchingly portrayed the Saviour in the 
 various attributes that render Him the perfect model for the 
 believer’s imitation. That sermon was a very fitting introduc¬ 
 tion for him to our mission—an unquestioned passport to all our 
 hearts, nor less the index of the character, the aspirations, the 
 study and the purposes of its author, which were self-abnegation 
 and self-sacrifice, and a living conformity to Christ in all things. 
 Not that there was any leaven or aceticism in him; but there 
 was an habitual, ardent longing to have Christ formed in him 
 the hope of glory, and to be rapidly transformed into that glo¬ 
 rious image. Here is the secret of the remarkable resemblance 
 in the servant to the Master, which we have witnessed especially 
 in the last months of his life; a likeness that renders so appro¬ 
 priate to him the application of the language of our text—“ the 
 disciple whom Jesus loved.” As John was the special object 
 of the Saviour’s affection, from the large measure of his own 
 moral limitude which he saw in that disciple, so we believe 
 
THE BELOVED PHVSICIAN. 
 
 21 
 
 was eminently the case of our departed brother — u a disciple 
 whom Jesus loved.” 
 
 There can hardly be occasion, in this connection, to attempt 
 a particular analysis of Dr. Wright’s religious character. Its 
 essential elements may be readily inferred from the general com¬ 
 pleteness of it, and its likeness to the model of the Master which 
 I have indicated. It may, however, be well to repeat the sug¬ 
 gestion, that his progress in grace was much the result of pray¬ 
 erful and careful self-culture and strenuous exertion. He seldom 
 had flights of rapture. Calm, abiding peace he did enjoy; but 
 as a rule, his pathway to heaven lay through the valley of hu¬ 
 miliation. He much oftener saw Jesus, and held sweet com¬ 
 munion with him there than on the mount of transfiguration. 
 His constitutional modesty and self-diffidence did not always 
 allow him to speak with the strongest assurance of his own good 
 estate. Sometimes, in referring to himself, he would put his 
 case contingently—“If I was ever born again,” etc.—more, 
 however, from his habitual self-distrust, I apprehend, than from 
 any very serious doubts on that point. His deep sense of per¬ 
 sonal unworthiness, with his vivid impressions of the exceeding 
 enormity of sin; his jealous watchfulness over his own heart; 
 and the unwonted tenderness and sensitiveness of his conscience, 
 all tended to foster that distrust of himself; yet not to an extent 
 that greatly disturbed his simple child-like faith and confidence 
 in Christ, and his deep and ardent affection for him ; but which 
 rather drove him right to the Cross as his refuge, there, like the 
 beloved disciple, often to lean on Jesus’ bosom. His physical 
 ailments were sometimes depressing to his spirits, particularly 
 his periodical headaches , which were rather frequent and quite 
 severe.^ and while upon him, they sometimes led him to sigh 
 for the rest that remaineth to the people of God. The heavy 
 burdens and trials of missionaiy life often prompted the same 
 longings; though as a rule he w T as a happy Christian pilgrim, 
 firmly trusting, if not always rejoicing, in the Lord. As he 
 caught more and more distinct glimpses of “ the shining shore,” 
 particular hymns, pointing to his rest and inheritance there, 
 became his special favorites. One such is the following, which, 
 
22 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 sacredly to embalm it with his memory, we will sing in this 
 connection: 
 
 “AND THE CITY HATH NO NEED OF THE SUN.” 
 
 * 
 
 1. Ye golden lamps of heaven, farewell, 
 
 With all your feeble light; 
 
 Farewell thou ever-changing moon, 
 
 Pale empress of the night. 
 
 • 
 
 2. And thou, refulgent orb of day, 
 
 In brighter flames arrayed, 
 
 My soul, that springs beyond thy sphere, 
 
 No more demands thine aid. 
 
 3. Ye stars are but the shining dust 
 
 Of my divine abode; 
 
 The pavement of those heavenly courts 
 Where I shall reign with God. 
 
 4. The Father of eternal light 
 
 Shall there his beams display ; 
 
 Nor shall one moment’s darkness mix 
 With that unvaried day. 
 
 5. No more the drops of piercing grief 
 
 Shall swell into my eyes; j 
 
 Nor the meridian sun decline 
 Amid those brighter skies. 
 
 6. There all the millions of the saints 
 
 Shall in one song unite ; 
 
 And each the bliss of all shall view 
 With infinite delight. 
 
 IY. It might seem almost like sacrilege to connect with the 
 heavenly savor that clusters around our brother’s memory as a 
 Christian any separate notices of his missionary life and labors, 
 did not that savor so richly pervade them all. In turn, the 
 Christian was never lost in the missionary, nor the missionary in 
 the Christian, but the two, almost from the hour of his conver¬ 
 sion, were indissolubly blended. As I have already stated, he 
 decided on studying for the ministry, at the commencement of 
 his Christian course, with distinct reference to the missionary 
 work. 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 23 
 
 He was introduced to our field through Mr. Holladay, that 
 man of God of eminent ability and most lovely Christian char¬ 
 acter, whom he had known while a theological student. Mr. 
 H. was then in Hamden, Sydney College, located at Prince 
 Edward, where he was a professor several years previous to his 
 coming to Peoria. They were kindred spirits, and their hearts 
 knit together like those of David and Jonathan. 
 
 During the year, after the departure of Dr. Grant from Oroo- 
 miah to the mountains of Koordistan, we awaited anxiously Dr. 
 Wright’s arrival, being without a physician. He came to us in 
 affliction. He left his only sister in America far gone of con¬ 
 sumption, and the first mail after his arrival here brought the 
 tidings of her death. Though the intelligence was not unex¬ 
 pected, its actual reception deeply affected him. A sense of 
 orphanage and loneliness, such as he had never before felt, came 
 over him, now that the last cord was severed, and he had litei 
 ally neither father nor mother, brother nor sister, in this world 
 We were assembled in a garden for a social hour when the mes 
 senger came; and I well remember how his hand trembled 
 and the tears flowed, as he opened the letter; and how tenderly 
 this sore bereavement bound him to the hearts of our own circle, 
 and then freshly bleeding from the recent wounds caused by 
 the death of five children in the mission within the period of 
 two months. 
 
 He came to us as Paul came to the Corinthians, “ in weak¬ 
 ness, and in fear, and in much tremblingdeeply feeling, from 
 his brief acquaintance with his predecessor at Ezrooin, “ what 
 can the man do that cometli after the king?” Dr. Grant’s com¬ 
 manding person and mien, which so admirably fitted him for a 
 pioneer, and would have graced his namesake, the Lieutenant- 
 General, on the field, and his distinguished ability and adven¬ 
 turous exploits as a physician and surgeon, had made a profound 
 impression on the Persians, who are wont to attach so much 
 importance to personal presence. And not many days after 
 Dr. Wright’s arrival here, an older associate, impressed with the 
 singular modesty and meekness of his bearing, and somewhat 
 concerned lest the interests of the mission should suffer by un¬ 
 favorable comparisons between him and Dr. Grant, waited on 
 
24 : 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 him in his room, and held a long conversation with him on the 
 importance of his assuming some airs of assurance and conse¬ 
 quence. While our brother gratefully thanked his kind asso¬ 
 ciate, and was but too ready to account himself a novice in new 
 circumstances, needing fraternal counsel, still his own good 
 judgment forbade David to attempt to assume the armor of 
 Saul, more confident in the sling and smooth pebbles from the 
 brook. He could not affect gifts which he did not possess, and 
 wisely chose rather by the quiet, unpretending use of qualities 
 and endowments which God had vouchsafed to him (though 
 his own estimate of them was always too humble), to trust for 
 the influence which they would naturally and legitimately com¬ 
 mand. And with what admiration did all behold him, almost 
 from the day of his arrival, steadily, yet surely, winning the 
 hearts and gaining the confidence of all classes of men, by the 
 simple power of goodness, until long ago he had acquired a 
 respect and esteem in this country, such as no other foreigner 
 here, missionary or official, ever possessed. 
 
 It w^as a favoring providence that at the time of Dr. Wright’s 
 arrival in Persia, that very interesting man, Prince Malek Ka* 
 liem Meerza, was Governor of Oroomiah. Becoming strongly 
 attached to the Doctor on his first acquaintance with him, his 
 own rare intelligence and discrimination appreciating such cul¬ 
 ture and such worth, he lost no opportunity to strengthen and 
 encourage him, and thus did much to give him the high posi¬ 
 tion in the general estimation which his own well attested 
 merits ever afterwards maintained. 
 
 Dr. Wright came to us with a heart overflowing with love to 
 everybody, and with a strong disposition to be pleased with 
 every one and every thing, wherever and so far as it was possi¬ 
 ble. lie evinced very little of the hypocritical spirit not un¬ 
 common in inexperienced missionaries, and which their novel 
 and trying circumstances are so strongly calculated to fan I 
 recall that a day or two after his arrival, in crossing the yard 
 he met a small Nestorian boy who smilingly saluted him in 
 English, “ Goodee mornin The unexpected salutation almost 
 enraptured him. And on the first Sabbath when sick persons 
 came to our gate, which is closed on that day, his feelings were 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 25 
 
 deeply moved on learning the fact that any suffering ones had 
 been sent away even on the Sabbath, though he soon saw the 
 absolute necessity of some such restrictions to enable us in any 
 measure to hallow the sacred day. He met all, of all ages and 
 classes, with a smile which none could mistake as the true in¬ 
 dex of a sunny, loving heart. He has never been surpassed in 
 this respect in our mission, unless in the case of the lamented 
 Mr. Crane, whom some of the Nestorians so beautifully and 
 expressively denominated one of God's lambs. I regard this ge¬ 
 nial trait as one of the most valuable elements of his missionary 
 character, and as going very far to account for the wonderful 
 ascendency which he soon acquired over all classes from the 
 prince to the peasant, founded on his undisguised love for them, 
 and deep interest in their welfare which could never fail to 
 command a ready response in bosoms however selfish, or even 
 malevolent. This element of his character, under all the trials, 
 perplexities and vexations of missionary life, arising so often 
 from the wickedness of unreasonable men, continued unim¬ 
 paired to the last, nay, was constantly strengthened ; and I may 
 add that it contributed immeasurably to strengthen and sus¬ 
 tain him. It savoured much of the charity that never failetli . 
 Some present may recall that in a social prayer-meeting which 
 I conducted but a few weeks before his death, I deplored the 
 remissness of some of the Hestorian communicants, to which he 
 replied in remarks in the same meeting, with his accustomed 
 gentleness and tenderness, u When we think of their very hard 
 lot and sore trials, it seems to me that they do quite as well as 
 we should in their circumstances.” I trust we shall profit by 
 that timely hint from a heart ever beating so warmly with the 
 impulses of that love which liopeth all things. 
 
 Dr. Wright, though he came to us both as a physician and a 
 preacher, had a strong preference for the latter profession. 
 Much as his feeling heart yearned over the bodies of men, it 
 yearned still more tenderly over their perishing immortal souls. 
 
 Dr. Grant had been a practicing physician in America before 
 he became a missionary, but when appointed to this field he 
 raised the question of pursuing a short course of theological 
 study and being ordained. Being, however, hurried to his post 
 
26 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 by the exigencies of the mission, he postponed that matter with 
 the hope of studying privately here and being ordained on the 
 ground* But the great field of usefulness that opened at once 
 before him as a medical man, and the ample opportunities he 
 enjoyed for religious labors in connection with that profession, 
 led him afterwards to change his views on the whole subject, 
 and adopt the belief that lie could do more for the cause of 
 Christ simply under the name of a physician than by becoming 
 a clergyman. 
 
 Soon after Dr. Wright’s arrival I mentioned to him his prede¬ 
 cessor’s opinions on this subject, and suggested the possible ex¬ 
 pediency of his being known here 'primarily as a physician 
 rather than a preacher. It touched a very tender point. That 
 he might preach Christ had been the burden of the prayers of a 
 long since departed mother in his infancy, and the same had 
 been the object of his fondest hopes and most earnest aspira¬ 
 tions ever since he felt the power of a Saviour’s love. No one 
 who has witnessed his labors can doubt the wisdom of his 
 choice. 
 
 As we remarked on his resemblance to “ the disciple whom 
 Jesus loved,” in his character as a Christian, we might perhaps 
 draw an analogy between him and ‘‘the beloved physician,” in 
 his missionary relations. Luke was doubtless a preacher as well 
 as a medical practitioner in his companionship with the apos¬ 
 tles; and he too combined with those offices the accomplish¬ 
 ments of a finished scholar and author. But in the case of Dr. 
 Wright, as a missionary, we must add yet another department 
 to all the functions exercised by the evangelist, that of the rep¬ 
 resentative of the mission before the authorities of the country, 
 and the succoring daysman of the Nestorians, to stand between 
 them and their oppressive masters and rulers. In this “ four¬ 
 fold state,” if we may thus apply the expression, he has sus¬ 
 tained burdens and performed labors altogether unparalleled by 
 those of any other individual ever connected with the mission, 
 at least for any considerable time. Most truly might he, with 
 Paul, have said, “I labored more abundantly than they all;” 
 however little inclined himself ever to make such an intima¬ 
 tion, or even to entertain the idea. And added to all these de- 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 27 
 
 partments of liis stated labors, his arduous preaching tours in 
 Ivoordistan, in which we might enumerate “ perils oft , 57 as he 
 has visited almost every Hestorian district, have been about as 
 numerous as those of any of his brethren. With a single ex¬ 
 ception Dr. Wright has been a missionary much longer than any 
 other man ever here— twenty-five years —and the wonder is, that 
 under such an accumulation of toils and cares, not that he has 
 sunk under the pressure at the end of a quarter of a century, 
 but that he lived half that period. He was a strong man, physi¬ 
 cally ; not of the robust type. He was decidedly slender, never 
 weighing much if any more than one hundred and twenty 
 pounds, though of medium height; but he was of that compact, 
 wiry stamp, which rendered him capable of vigorous exertion 
 and vast endurance. In our mountain journeys no one of us has 
 ever been able to scale the lofty heights, and thread the doubtful 
 parapets along the faces of the cliffs with less exhaustion. His 
 health was almost uniform with the exception of his periodical 
 headaches. He had never had a severe course of fever before 
 the one of which he died. 
 
 The greatest earthly blessing vouchsafed to him on missionary 
 ground, and which goes far to explain his endurance so long, was 
 his devoted wife, of which he never was insensible, nor slow to 
 acknowledge his great obligation to her, and to God on her ac¬ 
 count. And under the crushing sorrows of our sister’s bereave¬ 
 ment she may have the sweet satisfaction of knowing that she 
 has comforted, cheered, sustained and strengthened this dear 
 servant of God for a score of years, to an extent that no lan¬ 
 guage can describe, added vastly to his usefulness, and probably 
 doubled the years of his missionary service. 
 
 We need not attempt fully to describe the multiplied and ar¬ 
 duous labors of Dr. Wright in the various departments which he 
 filled, yet we should briefly refer to them. His labors as a 
 preacher were as numerous, or nearly so, as those of any of his 
 brethren. This, as we have said, was his chosen calling , nor did he 
 fail to magnify it. As he ardently loved the gospel, so he loved 
 to proclaim it. His discourses were always well prepared, able 
 and interesting, and often very impressive. He inclined more 
 to preach on themes connected with Christ, as a loving, forgiv- 
 
28 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 ing Saviour, than on the threatenings of the law, though by no 
 means to the exclusion of the latter. His tender spirit w T as 
 much more at home at the foot of Calvary than of Sinai, and 
 thither he essayed to lead all others, most affectionately pointing 
 them to the Lamb of God that taketh awav the sins of the world. 
 In some instances, however, we have heard from him sermons 
 of a most searching, alarming character. Some of us will never 
 forget the effect of his sermon on a seared conscience , first 
 preached in 1850, when the place of the assembly became lite¬ 
 rally a Bochim , all seeming to feel the gnawing of the worm that 
 “ dieth not.” That sermon he preached again a short time be¬ 
 fore his death, and under the influence of it a poor woman soon 
 hastened to him to disclose an act of fraud which she had long 
 denied, and would intrust the secret to no other ear, though she 
 had long and earnestly been pressed to do so. With his excel¬ 
 lent knowledge, and ready and effective command of the Hesto- 
 rian language, and thoroughly furnished as he was in his gene¬ 
 ral ministerial qualifications, he was a workman that needed 
 not to be ashamed ; and though not so emphatically a son of 
 thunder as was our departed associate, Mr. Stocking, he was emi¬ 
 nently a son of consolation. Yes, “ an eloquent man and 
 mighty in the Scriptures.” 
 
 Though the 'work of the minister was first in importance in 
 his estimation, his medical profession was by no means neglected. 
 He daily received crowds of patients of all classes at a given 
 hour at his dispensary, and he hardly ever declined a call near 
 or distant, in any state of the weather or at any hour, whether 
 among Hestorians or Mohammedans; and never shrunk from 
 exposure to the most fearful and malignant diseases. To say 
 nothing of his practice in relieving untold numbers in their 
 physical ailments, the moral influence of it was incalculable in 
 subduing prejudice, winning confidence, and holding up a liv¬ 
 ing exponent of a gospel that is good will to all men, and often 
 the only key that would unlock the bolted heart to the Balm of 
 Gilead, and the healing of the Physician there. 
 
 The first object of connecting a medical man with a mission so 
 isolated and remote from Europeans as ours, was, of course, the 
 relief of the mission families. And how faithful has Dr. Wright 
 
 u 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN - . 
 
 29 
 
 ever shown liimself in this sphere. How constant and un¬ 
 wearied in his attendance on our sick ; how careful and anxious 
 in prescribing and w T atching; and how brotherly and sympa¬ 
 thetic with the sick, the afflicted and the bereaved. The inten¬ 
 sity of his solicitude has, in some instances, proved almost over¬ 
 powering to him. Such was the fact in the last sickness of Mr. 
 Stoddard, that seraphic man, whose life seemed to us all so un¬ 
 speakably important to the cause of Christ in Persia. He w T as 
 himself made sick by the trying experience of that beloved as¬ 
 sociate’s death-bed. 
 
 In our own crushing affliction, in the death of our Judith, of 
 cholera, in a desolate tent by the road-side, his sympathetic na¬ 
 ture w T as most tenderly drawn out. When he met us at Gava- 
 lau, on our return with the corpse, on my mentioning to him that 
 Judith in her sufferings once said, “I wish Dr. Wright was 
 here,” the tears bursting from his eyes, he responded, “ Dear 
 child ; would that I might have been by her.” And not long 
 afterward, in alluding to his sorrowful ride to Gavalau in a note, 
 he said, “ When about six miles from the city, w r e saw a footman 
 coming at a rapid speed. On meeting us he stopped and took 
 from his girdle your letter from Yavshauly. I dismounted, 
 took the letter, opened it with a trembling hand, and read it 
 aloud. Our hopes were all dashed to the ground. The dear one 
 was no more. There, by the road-side, we stopped and wept.” 
 
 But in proportion as his sympathies thus w T elled up from the 
 deep fountains of his feeling soul, must have been the severity 
 of the contributions thus levied on his strength and his life ; 
 and not only in our mission circle but measurably also abroad 
 among the people. His medical practice, taking into account 
 its moral drafts on such a nature, has always been by far the 
 most tasking part of his duties. Yet w T e never saw in him a 
 disposition to waive its calls and responsibilities. With what 
 alacrity has he hastened over the seventy miles horse-back ride 
 to Gawar, scarcely halting on the w T ay to eat or sleep, wdien sum¬ 
 moned to our brethren and sisters there; particularly in the 
 last sickness of Mr. Crane and Mrs. Rhea; and wdiat an angel 
 of mercy was he on such occasions to the afflicted station in the 
 mountains. Verily he was a u beloved physician.” 
 
30 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 Dr. "Wright’s labors in the department of the press have been 
 mentioned in our reference to his scholarship. His rare quali¬ 
 fications for such work were well attested in the publication of 
 .the beautiful pocket edition of the Hew Testament, in Syriac 
 during his visit in America. And since his recent return, 
 how eagerly and ably, almost with the enthusiasm of youth, 
 did he commence operations for entering upon the great work 
 of translating the Scriptures into the Tartar Turkish; a lan¬ 
 guage spoken by so many millions of people who have never 
 yet had the Bible. How he has been able to carry on this 
 collateral branch of labor, during twenty years of his life, with 
 the constant and heavy burdens of his other departments, is a 
 problem which any man less scholarly, less systematic, and less 
 industrious and economical of time, w T ould have found it impos¬ 
 sible to solve. 
 
 Our brother’s duties as the representative of the mission in 
 its relations to “ the powers that be,” and as a shield for the 
 poor Nestorians under their nameless and grinding oppressions, 
 abuses and outrages, were the most delicate, and often, by far, 
 the most difficult and perplexing that he had to perform. His 
 medical practice was a ready passport for him to all classes of 
 the Mohammedans, and his bland demeanor, and unquestion¬ 
 able integrity, as we have said, soon won for him very general 
 confidence and high esteem. This has been a capital of untold 
 value to the mission, living and laboring here as we do, the only 
 Americans in this Mohammedan empire, protected, or rather 
 tolerated, solely by courtesy on the part of those who cannot 
 be supposed to have any sympathy with the Christian religion, 
 but the reverse. Such has been the profound respect cherished 
 by the proud, dominant class toward our physician, that not 
 onlv have the civil authorities almost never refused to grant 
 any favor which he has requested of them (while he has wisely 
 not presumed a step too far), but the bigoted Moollahs, self- 
 prompted, were accustomed to send to him the poor Hestorian 
 girls, who had been seized by ruffians, with the purpose of com¬ 
 pelling them to profess themselves Mohammedans, that, with¬ 
 out fear, they might declare in his presence which religion 
 they preferred ; and that declaration was accepted as decisive. 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 31 
 
 And hundreds, if not thousands, of deeply suffering Nestorians, 
 both men and women, ground down to the dust by their lordly 
 oppressors, have been relieved, often rescued from the lash, by 
 his gentle and discreet interference, through appeals to those 
 oppressors or to their superiors. 
 
 Nor have the wronged Nestorians alone felt the benefit of his 
 succoring influence. The suffering poor among the Moham¬ 
 medans have also often sought and found in him a sympathiz¬ 
 ing friend. None of us can forget an instance, when tidings 
 came to him that a poor Koord was about to be beheaded, in 
 the court of the prince, on very unjustifiable grounds. He was 
 sitting at his dinner-table, and bounding instantly to his feet he 
 ran to the appalling scene, but w T as a few moments too late to 
 interpose a petition, arriving only in time to behold the slaugh¬ 
 tered man weltering in his gore. 
 
 The burdens and perplexities imposed on him by his mission¬ 
 ary and providential relations, in numberless applications for 
 succor, from day to day, and week to week, and year to year, 
 in this land of darkness, cruelty and blood, were a ’weight for 
 the shoulders of a Hercules, and we marvel that they did not 
 long ago crush that sensitive spirit and apparently fragile 
 form. 
 
 In detailing Hr. Wright’s multifarious labors as a missionary, 
 we should not omit to mention the fact, that for two years pre¬ 
 vious to Miss Fiske’s arrival lie was the superintendent of the 
 female seminary, then only a day-school—the present seminary 
 in embryo—not imposing a serious tax of strength or of time, 
 but pleasantly connecting his memory with an enterprise which 
 has long since grown to be one of so much importance, fraught 
 with unspeakable blessings, in whose prosperity he ever took a 
 very deep interest, and in which some of his last labors were 
 performed. After his return from America, he conducted 
 morning worship in the school, to the great gratification and 
 relief of our over-burdened sister who has charge of it, and the 
 deep interest of the pupils ; and to his last prayers and appeals 
 there, instrumentally, sent home by the affecting providence of 
 his death, we believe, is much owing the precious revival now 
 in progress in that seminary. 
 
32 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 As physician, Dr. Wright found it far more difficult to leave 
 his post for rest than any other member of the mission ; and 
 for twenty years he had not the respite of a single month. 
 At the close of eighteen years he passed through the severe 
 ordeal of sending his two eldest daughters to America—a sore 
 trial to so tender a parent’s heart; and not long afterward, he 
 was, for the first time, bereaved of a beloved child. 
 
 Two years after the departure of his daughters, in July, 1860, 
 he found his health so much impaired that he was compelled 
 to abandon the field for a time, a measure to which the Pruden¬ 
 tial Committee had repeatedly invited him, but which he was 
 very reluctant to adopt, while it involved leaving the mission 
 without medical service. His return to America in his feeble 
 health was a period of great suffering. In his last sickness he 
 told me that he was so ill, much of the time on the land jour¬ 
 ney, that it was with much difficulty he could mount his horse 
 in the morning, and he seriously feared that he must lay his 
 ... / <? bones between E^coom and Hebizond. 
 
 With all the refreshment of spirit, and the inexpressible 
 delights of meeting dear friends in America, and amid all their 
 overflowing kindness, his was still, more or less, the hard lot of 
 a returned missionary, floating with a family without a settled 
 home—a situation that proves one of the severest trials in the 
 world to many a heart far less sensitive than that of our de¬ 
 parted brother. 
 
 Change of climate and scene, however, did much for him, 
 and in the course of several months he became able to speak 
 in public ; and very seldom has the American Board sent forth 
 among the churches a messenger who has exerted a more de¬ 
 sirable influence. His whole appearance impressed all who 
 saw him, as that of a man of God—a “ disciple whom Jesus 
 loved.” I was not surprised to be thus accosted by the wife of 
 one of the Secretaries of the Board, soon after his arrival in 
 America : “ What do you do to your missionaries at Oroomiah ? 
 First, we had Mr. Stoddard with us, that angelic man ; then 
 came Miss Fiske, possessing the same spirit; and now Dr. 
 Wright, the same.” Personal acquaintance with others of our 
 departed associates, I hardly need say, would have led her to 
 extend the list in the same strain. 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 33 
 
 Oar brother’s addresses in America, like himself, were full of 
 tenderness and earnest pathos, and not void of power, while in 
 simple narrations, with an nnction peculiarly his own, he testi¬ 
 fied the things which he had seen, and heard, anti felt. His 
 public services might, in general, be characterized by a refer¬ 
 ence to them made by one of the Secretaries of the Board, who 
 labored with him for a season in Central New York. Said he : 
 “ Our meeting in A-- at first seemed very cold and unprom¬ 
 
 ising ; but Dr. Wright smote the rock and the waters gushed 
 forth, and we had a most interesting season.” 
 
 After active labors among the churches for nearly two years, 
 it was a grateful change to him to sit down to the important 
 literary work of publishing the pocket edition of the New 
 Testament in Modern Syriac, already mentioned, in which the 
 Nestorians may well rejoice as his last rich legacy to them. 
 
 While penning this discourse, the query often revolved in my 
 mind where I should most appropriately note the faults of our 
 brother’s character, as I would endeavor to present a fair, im¬ 
 partial portrait. I must confess that I have found neither the 
 place nor the faults to record ; not that he was perfect, until he 
 reached and entered the gate of heaven—how would the inti¬ 
 mation that he was such have agonized him till his last breath ! 
 Most appropriate to him would have been the language of 
 Paul: u Not as though I had already attained, either were 
 already perfect ; but I follow after ; ” “ forgetting those 
 
 things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things 
 which are before, I press toward the mark, for the prize of the 
 high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” His faults that were 
 palpable, not only leaned strongly u to virtue’s side,” but were 
 in general themselves virtues in excess. To illustrate our 
 meaning. On his. once submitting a manuscript sermon to me 
 for perusal, which he had been requested to send to America 
 for publication, I called his attention to the naked “ A. IT. 
 Wright,” on the title-page, and suggested that he make it 
 Rev. A. H. Wright, M. D. But no argument of mine could 
 induce him to place any thing before or after his own name ; it 
 was a moral impossibility for him to do so ; and he, but reluc¬ 
 tantly, yielded his assent that I make the proposed modifica- 
 3 
 
34 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 tion in my own hand, though it w r as simply applying titles 
 universally attached to his professions, that really involved 
 not the leasjt delicacy. And so of his other traits. We might 
 pronounce them of too fine a texture to breast the rude storms 
 of this dark, cold world—I would not say effectively and suc¬ 
 cessfully, for we have seen the reverse to be eminently true of 
 him; but not without subjecting their possessor to a kind of 
 living martyrdom ; a temperament and character far better 
 fitted by nature, as well as by grace, for sunny celestial climes, 
 than the hard buffetings which even the most favored human 
 voyager must encounter on life’s tempestuous ocean ; qualities 
 which endeared him only the more lovely while he was with 
 us, and now the more at home in the holy society of heaven. 
 
 An old writer compares fault-finders to flies that will creep 
 eagerly all over a sound body, meeting nothing to their tastes, 
 in search of some insignificant sore. We might justly fear 
 incurring the charge of that cynical propensity, if disposed to 
 sit as a critic on such a character. 
 
 During his nearly four years’ sojourn in America, usefully as 
 he was employed there, his heart was in the distant land of his 
 missionary adoption, with the people to whom he had given his 
 life’s vigor and toils. The relinquishment of the hope of re¬ 
 turning to his field would have cost him well nigh a death 
 struggle. The difficulties that embarrassed the question, in 
 connection with arranging for his family, weighed heavily on 
 his spirits, as his letters to us often testified. At length light 
 and hope broke upon his path. A door was opened by the 
 Master’s hand, but one involving a sacrifice that would demon, 
 strate, as nothing else could, his readiness to lay all on the 
 altar of consecration—even to be separated from his beloved 
 wife and children by half the circumference of the globe. An 
 affectionate daughter, keenly sensitive to the sufferings of her 
 father, volunteered to leave her school and accompany him, to. 
 care for him and comfort him, and in the hope of being useful 
 in the land of her birth in our female seminary. The arrange¬ 
 ment was consummated. Little did any one dream that the 
 sacrifice which he then so cheerfully made—that silent rending 
 of heart-strings—which nothing short of dying daily can ade- 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 35 
 
 cjuately describe, was shortening and lightening the remaining 
 span of his pathway to heaven. He left America June 18, 
 1864. Ilis return was rendered pleasant, and even delightful, 
 by the presence and assiduities of that devoted daughter and 
 the cheer of kind missionary companions. The party reached 
 us on the 29th of September, to our unspeakable joy, and the 
 great joy of the Hestorians and thousands of the Mohamme¬ 
 dans. What a relief did we all feel that our “ beloved physi- 
 sician” was again at his post, after being so long deprived of 
 medical services, to say nothing of the value and comfort of his 
 presence in other relations. Alas ! how suddenly, as in a mo¬ 
 ment, is that joy turned to mourning ! 
 
 Ho one could mistake the mellowing effect, on his chastened 
 spirit, of the sore struggle through which he had passed, in being 
 separated from his family. His whole appearance savored far 
 less of earth than of heaven. His face shone like that of 
 Moses when he came down from the Mount, though, like 
 Moses, he “ wist not” that it thus shone. Affliction had brought 
 him nearer than ever before, not to Sinai, but to Calvary; into 
 closer and more hallowed communion with u the Man of Sor¬ 
 rows Idjs religious services breathed much of the atmos¬ 
 phere of Jerusalem above. Love gushed forth in every act 
 and every work. A serenity, more angelic than human, 
 lighted his countenance and sweetened his tones. It is not 
 strange that he evinced such power to draw together Hestorian 
 Christian brethren who had been long and sadly alienated from 
 each other, leading them and binding them together as by a 
 single hair , as a native graphically expressed it, under the 
 heavenly magnetism of his own benignant look, and throbbing, 
 loving heart. As I now look back and recall his walk among 
 us during the three short months after his return till his death, 
 I almost marvel, that in apprehension of his soon rising, we 
 did not lay hold on the skirts of his garments! But we 
 might not detain an angel! 
 
 On the 23d of December he came to Mount Seir, as he and 
 the rest of us supposed, perfectly well. But he came, as Moses 
 ascended Pisgah, to die . His work was done, and well done. 
 His last great sacrifice, little short of that of Abraham’s offering 
 
36 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 Isaac, bad been made and accepted. “Well done, good and 
 faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord,” was now 
 to be bis summons. 
 
 Providentially detained at Seir for the night, he was taken 
 sick that evening, and was never afterward able to return to 
 bis home. It was matter of gratitude to God with him, as be 
 repeatedly said, in the early part of bis sickness, that be was 
 sick at my bouse, where it is so much more quiet than at bis 
 bouse in the city ; and I hardly need say that I account it as 
 one of the special boons of my life that I was thus permitted 
 to be with him in bis last sickness, and that my own dormitory 
 should be hallowed as the gate of heaven to bis departing 
 spirit. 
 
 The day after be was taken ill, I bad pleasant conversation 
 with him, though be was even then much prostrated by the 
 power of the disease, which was nervous, typhoid fever, that 
 angel of death to so many missionaries. I sat in the room with 
 him preparing a sermon in Syriac to preach the next day, 
 from the text, “How old art thou ?” with reference to the close 
 of the year. After preaching it the next morning, I mentioned 
 to him that I had suggested in my sermon that for each breath 
 we owe a grateful recognition of mercy, as God gives us the 
 power to draw each breath. He replied: “ The Persian poet 
 Sadi says, that we owe two thanksgivings for each breath—for 
 the inspiration and the expiration.” 
 
 He early expressed to me the belief that his disease was 
 typhoid fever, and took medicine accordingly; but preferred 
 to say little about it, lest it should distress his daughter. On 
 the second day of his sickness he once said, “ I feel as though 
 poison was running through all my veins.” I said, “You have, 
 however, no such apprehension” (an idea and a practice so com¬ 
 mon in this wicked country). “ Oh, no,” he replied ; “ I only 
 refer to the effluvia of that house which I visited after coming 
 to Seir, where four persons are sick of typhoid fever.” He had 
 visited many others sick of that disease during the previous 
 weeks, and this last exposure could probably have been no 
 more than the occasion of suddenly developing the malady 
 already at work in his system. On the fifth day of his sickness, 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 37 
 
 Mr. Labaree, who knows something of medicine, visited him, 
 and staid with him afterwards till his death, to his great gratifi¬ 
 cation. 
 
 His disease was so overpowering that he did not incline to 
 converse much after the few first days. He was a meek, patient 
 sufferer, though so much a sufferer that he often groaned 
 audibly. We, of course, needed no death-bed testimony after 
 such a life. He had daily borne a clear witness for Christ for 
 thirty years. On the evening of the eighth day of his sickness, 
 wdien I was alone with him, he said, “ I have never before had 
 such a fever, and had not thought I should ever have typhoid 
 fever. My sufferings have been intense in my separation from 
 my family.” I said, “ Do you think those sufferings induced 
 your disease ?” He replied, “ I do not know ; sometimes I now 
 think so; but of late, for several weeks, I have been much 
 more comfortable.” He soon added, “ My mind is becoming 
 confused, and I know not how it will be ; if I should not 
 recover, I would like Mrs. Wright to know how keen have 
 been my sufferings while separated from her.” This was his 
 only dying message ; and the point he had in mind in it was, 
 that his beloved wife might have an expression of the strength 
 of his affection for her when far away, and as it proved, stand¬ 
 ing on the brink of eternity. 
 
 On the night of the ninth day of his sickness he became 
 delirious, and continued so till his death, which occurred on 
 Wednesday, January 4, the twelfth day after his attack. It is 
 grateful to know that, in all his delirious wanderings, he uttered 
 not a single word to be regretted. Much of the time he was 
 preaching, exhorting, or conversing in Syriac. When spoken 
 to by us he was characteristically gentle, and even courteous, 
 to the last. The presence of Lucy, his daughter, usually re¬ 
 called him to partial consciousness ; with yearning tenderness 
 he sometimes beckoned her near to receive a dying father’s 
 kiss, and her affectionate tones,^ calling father , were the last 
 that he recognized. 
 
 During the last two days he was unquiet most of the time ; 
 his nervous system, which was the principal seat of his disease 
 being greatly affected. A few moments before his death a 
 
38 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 sudden change came over him; his features became perfectly 
 placid, as though fanned by the wings of hovering angels ; al¬ 
 most a smile lighted up his beaming countenance, seeming to 
 say, “ 0 death, where is thy sting ?” And he thus gently 
 breathed out his life— u the disciple whom Jesus loved”— 
 leaning on His bosom, at the age of fifty-three years and not 
 quite two months. 
 
 One of his missionary brethren commended the departing 
 spirit to the-arms of the Saviour, in his last moments, as we 
 kneeled around his bed ; after which others repeated the stanzas : 
 
 “ Vital spark of heavenly flame, 
 
 Quit, 0 quit this mortal frame ; 
 
 Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying, 
 
 Oh the pain, the bliss of dying.” 
 
 And, 
 
 “ How blest the righteous when he dies ; 
 
 When sinks a weary soul to rest, 
 
 How mildly beam the closing eyes, 
 
 How gently heaves the expiring breast.” 
 
 While we all deeply felt that the chamber where the good 
 man meets his fate is privileged beyond the. common walks of 
 virtuous life—quite on the verge of heaven. 
 
 On the following day, January 5, funeral services were per¬ 
 formed at Seir, by his atfiicted missionary associates, both in 
 English and in Syriac, and u devout” Nestorians u carried him 
 to his burial, and made great lamentation over him.” He was 
 buried on our Mount Zion , amid a large concourse of weepers, 
 by the side of his infant son, bearing his own name, and near 
 the graves of his fellow-laborers 66 gone before”—Stoddard, 
 Breath and Thompson, and the Sweet Persian Flower and 
 other children of like precious memories. Nature’s snowy 
 winding-sheet glistening over all the visible creation, save on the 
 azure bosom of the peaceful lake, seemed but the pure emblem 
 of that body at the resurrection, raised in incorruption, arrayed 
 in the spotless robes of a Saviour’s righteousness, and of the 
 freed spirit already walking in white among them that are 
 worthy. 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 39 
 
 “ Servant of God, well done ! 
 
 Rest from thy loved employ ; 
 
 The battle fought, the victory won, 
 
 Enter thy Master’s joy. 
 
 “The pains of death are past, 
 
 Labor and sorrow cease ; 
 
 And life’s long warfare closed at last, 
 
 His soul is found in peace. 
 
 “ Soldier of Christ, well done ! 
 
 Praise be thy new employ ; 
 
 And while eternal-ages run, 
 
 Rest in the Saviour’s joy.” 
 
 As lie was a man greatly beloved in life, so is be correspond¬ 
 ingly lamented in deatli. Deep and universal is tlie grief 
 among the Nestorians, and very extensive the sorrow among 
 the Mohammedans. As his body was being lowered into the 
 grave, one of the most godly of the JSTestorians who partici¬ 
 pated in the service, touchingly soliloquized, “ The Doctor is 
 dead, and the Nestorians die with him a remark which, with 
 hardly the abatement of an Oriental figure, evinces the pro¬ 
 foundness of the sorrow with which his loss is deplored. 
 
 A most tenderly affecting circumstance connected with his 
 removal is the presence of his stricken daughter, far from her 
 kindred, who made such sacrifices to accompany him to Persia. 
 Dear orphan child ! You will never regret that you did so. It 
 was well worth all those sacrifices to have been such a comfort 
 to the bleeding heart of such a father, and especially to have 
 been at his side in his last sickness. You need not be told how 
 our hearts yearn for you in your crushing bereavement. We * 
 commend you to that sympathizing Saviour who is touched 
 with every feeling of your sorrows. Ho where except at your 
 own mother’s side could you have such sympathy as encircles 
 you here, not only in our mission, but also from hundreds and 
 thousands of Hestorians. Yet how impotent is all human sym¬ 
 pathy to fill the aching void of your desolate heart. May 
 Jesus soothe and heal the deep wounds which His own loving 
 hand has inflicted. 
 
 Our thoughts and our sympathies go forth most tenderly also 
 
40 
 
 THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 to that unsuspecting widow and those orphan children far away, 
 to whom the tidings of this dark providence are speeding their 
 course on the wings of the wind. May that sorely bereaved 
 family be graciously prepared for those tidings, and fully realize 
 in their own experience the richness of those exceeding great 
 and precious promises of our God to the widow and the father¬ 
 less, even that He will be the widow’s God, and a Father to the 
 fatherless ones. 
 
 In our deep affliction as a bereaved mission, we have sources 
 of comfort and cause for gratitude as well as for sorrow. 
 
 It is a matter of devout thanksgiving that God sent into the 
 field such a laborer ; spared him to our work for a quarter of a 
 century under such unwonted toils and burdens, and enabled 
 him to accomplish an amount of good that very seldom crowns 
 a single missionary life. 
 
 It is a mercy and a cause for gratitude that this veteran soldier 
 was permitted to return to the land of his missionary sacrifices, 
 and lay down his armor on the field of conflict, and find a grave 
 among the people of his love and his labors, as he had longed 
 so ardently to do, having publicly expressed that desire in one 
 of the last meetings that he attended in America. 
 
 It is a mercy and a blessing, for which we should be devoutly 
 thankful, that another of our beloved brethren has reached 
 heaven, leaving behind him a record and a memory, which are 
 so priceless a legacy to the missionary cause and to the Church 
 of Christ in the world. 
 
 But we must still sorely feel the greatness of our loss, and 
 awake to it more and more. A heavy cloud has settled upon 
 us, of which the unwonted dark and gloomy atmosphere at the 
 time of his sickness and death, and for many days afterward, 
 was but too fit an emblem. We know, indeed, that the upper 
 surface, on which he gazes is illumed with the brightness of 
 heaven, but to us it is most emphatically a shadow of death. 
 For myself I may say that I reel under the severity of the blow, 
 leaning as I had done on such a brother for twenty-five years, 
 and that faithful and “ beautiful staff” being so suddenly taken 
 from my side; and it cannot be far otherwise with us all. Yet 
 we will kiss the rod that inflicts this blow, severe as it is, pray- 
 
THE BELOVED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 41 
 
 ing that his mantle may rest upon ns, and seeking so to improve 
 the very afflictive event of his death that it may he a blessing 
 to us, and through us to multitudes, a means of eternal life. 
 May God quicken us in our graces, and strengthen us for our 
 labors, and lead us, as our earthly supports are removed, to 
 look more directly up unto the hills from whence cometh our 
 help ; and we may then hope that the cloud which has so sud¬ 
 denly and sorrowfully enveloped us will burst in showers os 
 mercy and salvation, as has often been the case in our experi¬ 
 ences of our Father’s chastening hand. And may we be 
 quickened by this solemn providence in our own preparation 
 for death. 
 
 “ Are we not tending upward, too, 
 
 As fast as time can move ? 
 
 Nor should we wish the hours more slow 
 That keep us from our love.” 
 
 As we accompanied our brother to Jordan’s bank and watched 
 the struggle of the passage, and saw the last enemy vanquished, 
 and almost caught echoes of the rapturous songs of his wel¬ 
 come, did not our hearts longingly say, “ Let me die the death 
 of the righteous, and let my last end be like his ?” May it be 
 thus to us all! Amen. 
 

 
 
 
 
 
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