No. 461. 
 
 THE 
 
 MISSIONARY’S FATHER. 
 
 A LETTER FROM REV. WILLIAM GOODELL. 
 
 Constantinople, August 18, 1843. 
 
 My dear Brother —The intelligence contained in your 
 letter was not unexpected. Our father had attained to a 
 great age, lacking only five days of being eighty-six years 
 old. He was full of days, hut more full of faith and of the 
 Holy Ghost. How long he had “ borne the image of the 
 earthly” before he was renewed in the spirit of his mind, I 
 know not; but I know he had long borne “the image of 
 the heavenly.” 
 
 Though I can look back some forty-five years or more, I 
 cannot look hack to the year when he was not living a life of 
 faith, and prayer, and self-denial—of deadness to the world, 
 and of close walk with God. This was the more remarkable, 
 as in the church, of which in those days he was a mem¬ 
 ber, there was scarcely one individual who could fully sym¬ 
 pathize with him in his religious views. Those great evan¬ 
 gelical doctrines of the Gospel, which his own minister never 
 preached, and his own church never adopted into her creed, 
 were his meat and drink. “ The raven , though an unclean 
 bird , brought food to Elijah ,” was a common expression of 
 his on returning from church, where he had been able to 
 pick out of much chaff a few crumbs of the bread of life. 
 His privileges were few ; prayer-meetings were unknown ; 
 the sum total, or about the sum total of his library, was the 
 family Bible, one copy of Watts’ Psalms and Hymns, Dod¬ 
 dridge’s Rise and Progress, Pike’s Cases of Conscience, the 
 second volume of Fox’s Book of Martyrs, and the Assem¬ 
 bly’s Catechism. 
 
 But though his means of grace were thus limited, yet, 
 meditating day and night on God’s law, his roots struck 
 deep ; and he was like a tree planted by the rivers of water, 
 whose leaf is always green, and whose fruit is always abun¬ 
 dant. Whoever saw him riding on horseback would, if he 
 kept himself concealed, be almost sure to see him engaged 
 
9 
 
 THE MISSIONARY’S FATHER. 
 
 in prayer. Whoever should work with him in seed-time or 
 harvest, would find his thoughts as actively employed above, 
 as his hands were below. Whoever of the Lord’s people 
 met him, by day or by night, at home or abroad, alone or in 
 company, would find him ready to sit down with them in 
 heavenly places, in order to comprehend “what is the length, 
 and breadth, and depth, and height” of the love of Christ. 
 
 Being the youngest of the family, you can have but an 
 indistinct recollection of the small house on the side of the 
 hill, containing two small rooms and a garret, floored with 
 loose and rough boards, where twelve of us were born ; and 
 of the small clump of apple-trees before the door, where 
 your elder brothers and sisters played in the days of their 
 thoughtless childhood. There, with no lock to any door, 
 and no key to any trunk, or drawer, or cupboard ; there, 
 where, as I am told, nothing now remains but an old cellar, 
 which may even itself, long before this, have been filled up ; 
 there our godly father prayed for us with all prayer and 
 supplication in the Spirit; there, on every Sabbath-eve, he 
 asked us those solemn, important, and all-comprehensive 
 questions from the Catechism; and there, with eyes and 
 heart raised to heaven, we used to sing to the tune of old 
 Rochester, 
 
 “ God, my supporter and my hope, 
 
 My help for ever near; 
 
 Thine arm of mercy held me up, 
 
 When sinking in despair.” 
 
 And there, too, our mother, of precious memory, though, as 
 she died when you were but six months old, you remember 
 her not—there she lived a life of poverty, patience, meek¬ 
 ness, and faith. There she used to sit and card her wool 
 by the light of the pine knot, and sing to us those sweet 
 words, 
 
 “ Hov’ring among the leaves, there stands 
 The sweet celestial Dove; 
 
 And Jesus on the branches hangs 
 The banner of his love.” 
 
 And there, too, almost thirty-four years ago, we assembled 
 early one morning in her little bed-room to see her die. Her 
 peace was like a river ; she was full of triumph; and she 
 was able to address to us words of heavenly consolation till 
 
THE MISSIONARY’S FATHER. 
 
 3 
 
 she had actually crossed over into shallow water within one 
 minute of the opposite hanks of the Jordan— heaven and all 
 its glories full in vieiv. Precious woman, “ Were my chil¬ 
 dren but 'pious ,” thou didst often say in thy last long sick¬ 
 ness, “ how cheerfully coidd I leave them , and go away .” 
 But what thine eyes were not permitted to behold, have not 
 the angels long since told thee—that the eight children thou 
 didst leave behind, with all, or all hut one of their partners, 
 were partakers of that blessed Gospel “which was all thy 
 salvation, and all thy desireand that three of thy sons 
 were engaged in proclaiming it to others ? Yes, God hath 
 heard thy prayers, and “ hath remembered his holy cove¬ 
 nant,” as we are all witnesses this day. 
 
 But before I close, I must say something more of the 
 early habits and character of our venerable father. The 
 little farm he once possessed, if it were not all ploughed 
 over, was, I am confident, almost every foot of it prayed 
 over. And 'some dried apples from it, which a subsequent 
 owner sent me a few years since, were to me “ as the smell 
 of a field which the Lord hath blessed.” He was full of the 
 millennium and of the missionary spirit, long before the ex¬ 
 istence of the present missionary societies ; praying daily for 
 both Jews and Gentiles—saying with the Psalmist, “Let 
 the people praise thee, 0 God ; let the people praise thee, 
 all of them”—and like his uncle Solomon Goodell, was 
 ready and desirous to contribute something for the spread 
 of the glorious Gospel long before he had an opportunity 
 for so doing. 
 
 He served three years in the revolutionary war ; and I 
 was struck with the fact you communicated of its being 
 early on the morning of the memorable 4th of July, amidst 
 the roaring of cannon, that he slept in peace. And though 
 to his children he left no inheritance, no, not so much as 
 one cent, yet, in his godly example and prayers, he has left 
 them the very richest legacy which any father ever be¬ 
 queathed his children. 
 
 It is a rare privilege we have all enjoyed in being de¬ 
 scended from such parents. They were the children of the 
 great King. They belonged to the royal family. Their 
 names were on the catalogue of princes, and of those that 
 live for ever. They daily walked abroad with the conscious 
 dignity of heirs to a great estate, even an incorruptible in- 
 
4 
 
 THE MISSIONARY’S FATHER. 
 
 heritance. And they have now gone to sit down with 
 Christ on his throne. “ And they shall hunger no more, 
 neither shall they thirst any more.” I love to look back 
 and see how, with no ambitious aspirings after worldly gain, 
 or pleasure, or honor, they humbly walked with God ; how 
 from day to day they deliberately sought, both for them¬ 
 selves and for their children, first of all, “ the kingdom of 
 God and his righteousness and how in this scoffing world 
 they were so united to Christ as apparently to have no sep¬ 
 arate interest or existence—it not being so much “ they that 
 lived, as Christ living in them.” 
 
 It was doubtless a mercy to them, that they never at 
 any time possessed much of this world’s goods, and were at 
 times reduced to great straits; and a mercy to us, that we 
 had to bear the yoke in our youth, and often to make our 
 meal of salt and potatoes; and I have often found it in my 
 heart to bless God for all his dealings with them and with 
 us. And why should we be anxious to leave our children 
 any other inheritance than was left to us ? If we leave 
 them this, and they avail themselves of it, then, though we 
 be dead, they shall still have a Father who will provide for 
 them, and take care of them, and bless them, and make 
 them happy for ever. 
 
 And is our father gone, who prayed for us so much ? 
 Let us be thankful that the great Intercessor “ ever liveth to 
 make intercession for us ;” and more than ever, let us avail 
 ourselves of his mediation and atonement, of his grace and 
 strength, and of his righteousness and Spirit ; and more than 
 ever, let us now pray for ourselves and for all our brothers 
 and sisters. And is our father dead ? Let us arise and 
 give thanks to God, that good men may die. Let us give 
 special thanks that our father and mother are no longer in 
 this world of sin and sorrow. And let us be more careful 
 than ever to “be followers of those who, through faith and 
 patience, are now inheriting the promises,” being sinners 
 saved by grace alone. 
 
 T rts. ,&4 , s __ 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 
 
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