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DELIVERED AT THB

FUNERAL OF HILAND HILL, ESQ.

IN THE

I Itebqlerian £[iurr[i of Cntskill,
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 12, mm.

Yale (JnivciSly fjfbrary.
DISCOURSE,

DAVID MUKDOCH, D. D. j
Pastor of -the R. D. Churoh. of that place. I

PUBLISHED BY REQUEST.
WITH AN APPENDIX.

BROOKLYN:
PUBLISHED BY T. D. SMITH, NO. 202 FULTON-ST.
E. B, Spooner, Printer, Frankliu Suildings, Orange-street.
1850.

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s^ir

/

Cjsz.^cy

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DISCOURSE,

DELIVERED AT THE

FUNERAL OF HILAND HILL, ESQ.
IN THE
ON SATURDAY, OCTOBER 312, im®,

DAVID MURDOCH, D. D.
iJostor of tl)c Eeformeir JHuttl) CCljurcl) of tl)ot plow.

PUBLISHED BY REQUEST.
WITH AN APPENDIX

BROOKLYN:
PUBLISHED BY T. D. SMITH, NO. 202 FULTON-STREKT.
E. B. Spooner, Printer, Franklin Buildings, corner of Pulion anJ Orange-streets.
1850.

NOTE.
pECUL-JAR circumstances threw the burden of the services at Mr. Hill's fiineraT, on
t}ie author of the Discourse N'lr was he certain that it would depend on him, till far
in the morning of that diiy. Thouj^hj from his longer^esidence in the place, and his in-
litiiacy in the circle where the deceased moved, he was better acquainted wfth the
chiiracler of Mr. Hill, tlian any other resident pastor; still, he would not hare presum-
L'd to think, tliat what he did say, was worthy of being published, were it not that be
reaved friends wished it, as a mcmoriul to thenciselreSj of that solemn occasion.
D. M.

DISCOUESE

" There is but a step between me and death." I. SAM. ii. 20.
The truth of this Scriptural saying, was never
more strikingly verified than on this occasion. It is
not proof that you require, but impression; and no
words of mine can make that more solemn, or more
aifecting, than the startling event of this day. The
commotion and alarm which ran through our village,
when it was rumored that Hiland Hill had lallen
dead on the street, have scarcely subsided. 1 was
one of the anxious observers, and shall not soon for
get the agitation of that moment, nor the appalling
sight which death presented before us, when timt
manly form, now enclosed in this coffin, lay on a
stranger's floor, yet warm, but pulseless ! The
crowd held their breath, as if smitten themselves.
The tears of all seemed as if driven back into their
fountains. Every one was stunned, and silent. Few
wished to speak, except in whispers. It was a time
to feel, and think, upon the awful fact, that " there
is but a step, between me and death."
We cannot make this occasion more affecting than
it really is. We may, however, try to present what
is before us; leaving to every one's own mind, to

fill up, what it would be out of place even to pour-
tray in its minuteness. Let us concentrate our
thoughts on the present, with the pious purpose of
awakening in the surviving, an interest in that world
now brought so near.
And never was the Divine Spirit's influence more
needed by us, than at present. Death's fearful im
age lies here, in the midst of us. We turn to the
insignia of the dread King, with mournful interest,
as we see that lifeless body, surrounded by the
weeping widow, and her children. Nor are we
unconcerned spectators. We, too, can say — "our
friend sleepeth." The promised Comforter can,
alone, heal the sorrows of this day.
This has been a sudden death, as well as startling
occurrence. All deaths are surprising, even at the
time we anticipate the event. With our hand on
the throbbing breast, when the tide of life is just
ebbing, there is a pang passes through the soul at
the moment we see that all is over, which no pre
vious discipline can altogether provide against. The
changing features always send the chill of dread,
through the frame of even the most experienced in
death's doings. Humanity starts back from the im
age of the terrible King, when he has accomplished
his victory, even by slow approaches; much more,
when he overwhelms, as by storm, the best defences
which can be thrown around our friends. The ra
pidity of the shock, prostrates the most powerful
minds ; how much more those " httle ones," whose
heart-strings are twined around the beloved object
of their life, to be severed by a stroke ! We have

seen families resting securely and joyfully like a flock
by the "still waters," nor dreaming of danger;
when in a moment, the great enemy of life, breaks
in upon them like a " wolf on the fold," bearing
away the chief of that happy band. No marvel that
they feel as if the earth were giving away beneath
their feet, by the suddenness of this dispensation.
He that lately lived with us in that mortal flesh,
rose on the morning he died, in his usual health and
spirits, and performed his usual duties, with promp
titude and correctness. The same cheerfulness with
which he was wont to greet his family and friends,
beamed upon his countenance. Some of you here
present, held conversation with him on the affairs of
business; and others of you, saw him and conversed
with him as he moved towards the object he had in
his mind; and you could perceive no marks of de
cay upon his face, nor unsteadiness in his step. —
There were no outward symptoms of a shaking tene
ment ; nor are we aware, that there was even the
fluttering of a nerve, to indicate sudden dissolution.
There might have been a secret presentiment of com
ing evil, but of such, we know nothing. It is rather
to be presumed that there was none. The only
point on which we can guess that he was aware of
something serious, was his quick return to the shore,
from which he had so recently gone out, and the
manner in which his boat was secured. Then, per
haps, was the first rupture of some vital organ which
gave to himself the warning that a revulsion of na
ture was near. Some inharmonious action of the
physical constitution warned the soul within, that
they must part ! But it was a short moment, as we

in health calculate— that could be given, till the
" harp of many strings" had lost its tune ; and the
lips which could alone tell us, had ceased to move.
They are now before us, sealed in silence ! The
spirit that had sailed down the tide of time, in this
frail bark, entered the ocean of eternity; and
while some of us were looking at the prostrated clay,
that soul was away, under the guidance of Him, who
said— "peace, be still, and there was a great calm."
It was sudden, and more rapid, than these short
sentences have been spoken : so near is the world
of souls to this, where we yet are. It lies close by
us. There is but a thin fleshly partition between
us and that state, into which, we fear to " launch
away." We see nothing but air around us. The
untrodden land is out there ! Surely, I can see it
from the spot I stand upon ; our foot is on its bor
der. The grand secret we have longed to know,
can be unlocked by one turn of the fatal key. A
few drops of blood, not returning from the brain ;
the snapping of a thread finer than a hair, and the
door of that mysterious mansion is thrown open, and
we are in the presence of " God, the Judge of all."
" The silver cord is loosed ; the golden bowl is bro
ken, the pitcher is broken at the fountain, and the
wheel at the cistern. Then the dust shall return
to the earth, as it was, and the Spirit shall return
to the God who gave it."
We in our ignorance, are this day thinking of the
surprise, which must fill the soul that instantly ex
changes worlds; and we cannot forbear asking
questions, to which we can obtain no reply. Were
the powers of the struggling soul overborne, by the

" sore amazement" of that moment 1 What emo
tion had the ascendency, when faith was so sudden
ly merged in sight ? Was there no time given to
" gird up the loins of the mind, and be sober, and
hope to the end ?" The material sun's beams^ had
scarcely left the mortal vision, before the soul saV
the light of spirituality !
" Mortals cry, a man is dead ;
Angels sing, a child is born !"
We have no difiiculty just now, of falling in with
the assertion that we are on the border of another
world. We mutter our assent, and sigh over the
coffin, that proves it ; and from these solemnities, we
will go, with all eagerness, to scramble for the things
of time and sense. It requires some extraordinary
occurrence to take place, before we awaken fully
to thoughtfulness and prayer. We are reluctant to
apply the truth to ourselves. When we are listen
ing to the sentence pronounced on the condemned
criminal, or when we see him placing his foot on the
deceitful platform, that we are sure shall give way
beneath him, the moment that the fatal spring is
touched, by which he is to be launched into the aw
ful abyss beyond, we can readily see, how he might
cry out in truth — " There is but a step between me
and death !" Alas ! we think not that his case is
ours, in all, but his presumptuous sin. A like sen
tence is hanging over me ; an appointed day record
ed in the book of God ; a sentence of condemnation,
because of guilt, contracted in violation of the di
vine law; and my last sun, too, shall as surely rise,
as that, did to yon abhorred criminal, sentenced
and executed on account of his guilt.

8
Death — common death, is not a yielding to fate ;
it is the fulfilment of a sentence. It is not a paying
of the debt of nature, for it was unnatural for man
to die, till he became a sinner ; and now death has
become an awful necessity. Death reigns, because
of sin.
That fearful sentence lies in the high judiciary of
God, against me — against you ; and the only differ
ence between the guilty man condemned by the
human tribunal, and the Divine Judge, is, that we
know not the hour of our death. It is not revealed to
me, but there it stands ; nor can there be either re
prieve, or respite granted to any one. "Therefore,
in the midst of life, we are in death. Of whom,
then, may we find succour, but of thee, O, Lord,
who, for our sins art highly displeased. Yet, O,
Lord, most holy; O, Lord, most mighty; O, holy,
and merciful Saviour, deliver us not into the bit
ter pains of eternal death."
How soon we forget that we are ourselves expo
sed to the shafts of the destroyer. Our health and
quiet prevent us from realizing the condition we
are in. We think of others being stricken down.
Men on the field of battle, where the missiles of
destruction fly thick and numerous. When army
is arrayed against army; but we forget that life
itself is but a great battle, in which we are continu
ally warding off the dire foe, and yet he presses us
harder and harder. Nor is he an uncertain archer.
His aim is surely taken. His bolts come with un
erring skill, whether it be in the form of long, pro
tracted disease, or by a momentary overthrow ; there

is an equal assurance that he will overcome. The
vaunting giant was not more certainly slain by the
sling and the stone in the hand of the shepherd boy,
than the quiet citizen in the peaceful day, was by
yon rock, raised out of its bed by force, where it
had lain from its creation, to fall on him, bearing
him to the ground a bloody mass.* " There is no
discharge in that war." The foe is all around :
amidst the calm retirement of domestic bliss ; and
in the thronged avenue of the world's highway. —
He heeds liot the crowded street, nor the secluded
place of the careful watcher, who retains the physi
cian by his bedside, with greater tenderness, than
he does the soldier, who rushes recklessly on the
open cannon's mouth.
Our reflection on this sudden dispensation, would
not be complete, were we to keep on this side of
the " step," which divides the present from the fu
ture world. Life is a journey: we make progress
with every breath — with every beating pulse. —
There are degrees in the onward march. Faster or
slower we move, and we come to the last ; and that
is also taken, and what then ? What is the " step"
itself? What is the crossing over ? What is that
dark Jordan through which the soul must pass 1 So
near, and yet we cannot tell. We speak to those
who are just putting their foot forward, and they
respond to us. We call again, and we get no re
ply. Louder, yet — and silence reigns ; except the
echo of our own mournful voice. They have left
*Mr. Reuben Rundell was killed a few days before Mr. Hill died, by a rock thrown
from a blant. at Hudson city. He was standing at the head of his horses, till the ferry
boat would reach the wharf, when the stone fell anil crushed hira. He never moved
afterwards. 2

10
us, for the other side of that " dark river," and have
taken their abode with angels and spirits ; where
God is unfolded to the inward sight, no more through
things material ; but spirit meeting spirit in a naked
state. Unclothed of all its vaunted beauty and
wealth ; of all its self-righteousness, and intellectual
splendour; and of all its refuges of lies, A naked
spirit, divested of all its gauze of earthly adorn
ment. Nor shall even the garb of human virtue be
fit for a " wedding garment," at the " marriage sup
per of the Lamb." For naked and open "before all
Israel, and before the sun" of holiness, they shall
find it penetrating the heart — revealing the secrets
in the light of eternal truth. It shall be "naked
and open, before the eyes of Him, with whom we
have to do." Then, no disguise will avail, nor ex
cuse palliate the impenitent transgressor.
Beyond this last "step" is death: no mere nega
tion of being, but a positive and actual condition,
into which, the souls of all who have ever lived, are
already passed : and it is a proper carrying out of
our contemplation, to look out from us, and see the
souls that are close by us, though we see them not
by any sensible apprehension, yet there is but a
step between the company on the one side, and the
company on the other. We are here yet, among
those whom we call the living; but truly, in the
eyes of all who can see without fleshly organs, the
dead — departed — are the living. They live unto
God ; live amongst realities : we " walk in a vain
shew." They are fed on the substance — ^we on the
shadow. " Absent from the body, they are present
with the Lord." We remain still in our lot, but if

11
we have the true faith of the righteous, as we look
upward, and onward, each one will say — " I shall go
to him, but he shall not return to me."
We are taught by our holy religion, that Jesus
Christ "is Lord of the dead and of the living." He
reigns over the terrestrial and celestial worlds. He
stretcheth his power across the step, which divides
them, and putteth his hand upon us both. The
Christian may look over from the place where he
now stands, to the Moun,t Zion, where the great
multitude are assembled; and among them are ma-
ny whom his soul loveth. They beckon him hith
er. Our Redeemer is their's. He " leads them by
the living fountains of water." He gathers us " in
His arms, and carries us in his bosom." He took
that amazing step : He spanned the vale of death,
himself, and ascended " the path of life," crowned
with a happiness, which he shares with all who lean
upon His love, as they pass through the same dole-
flil region. " Living or dying, they are the Lord's."
It is not always that we can follow up our reflec
tions with such an assured example, as we have
been contemplating, since this sudden death. It is
sometimes best to suppress allusion entirely to the
deceased. They too, died suddenly, from indul
gence of passion, or with the intoxicating cup at
their lips ; the words of blasphemy upon their
tongues; and the stain of iniquity upon their hands.
A sudden death overtaking the grievous sinner,
makes us shudder; and we are fain to be silent —
leaving their cases to awaken their own lessons ;
and piously submitting to the truth, that " the Judge
of all the earth shall do right."

12
But this is a day, on which we can speak with
the confidence of knowledge. We could be proud
of our race, and of our religion, were we not more
grateful to God, who still raises up in this evil
world, models of spotless truthfulness, and of ardent
but true benevolence in life that ceased not till
death overtook him. Our departed friend came of
the genuine puritan stock, and could say with the
amiable Cowper: —
" My boast is not, that I derived my birth,
From loins enthroned, or rulers of the earth ;
But higher far my proud pretensions rise ;
My boast is parents, passed into the skies."
Like his venerable father,* he was a rich man;
but Jt was in " durable riches and righteousness."
A good conscience ; a peaceful spirit ; hope of hea
ven; a well-stored mind; a sound judgment; a re
fined taste ; an affectionate family ; true friends ;
and as a man, there was placed in him the most
unbounded confidence, by all classes. Know ye of
any kind of wealth to surpass these possessions ? If
we could have said a few days since, that all the
money that had ever passed through his hands, was
his own that morning he left his desk, in what
would his riches consist now, stript as he is, of all
earthly possessions — a naked spirit returning to his
God ! He who knew the value of all things, asked,
what " shall it profit a man though he gain the
whole world, and lose his own soul ?"
Our confidence this day, is not the result of his re
ligious profession ; though that also, was an act of
*See Appendix.

13
his later life, fearfully, modestly, but decidedly done.
Our reliance is in his whole life time, spent here w^ith
some of you, spared to survive him. You will speak
this day, of him, and say — here lies and a true and
amiable man.
Upon his truth he plumed himself, more than upon
any quality he possessed ; and this was the germ of
that correctness which constituted the basis of his
business habits, and also of the integrity of his mo
ral character. There is a brief document in exis
tence, which shews that early as boyhood, he found
his character for truth, was established ; and he liv
ed to " be a man, and was called to fill places
of great trust, public and private, and his truth and
integrity have never been questioned. He has nev
er forgotten the enconium bestowed upon him, and
which has served to stimulate him to maintain that
character which he for the first time discovered he
had acquired."
Nobly and sternly, did he prove the reality of this
cardinal virtue, to the end. It shone in his counte
nance ; it flowed in his speech, and it told in his
actions. He could give up all rather than tell even
a legal lie. His life was a true tale — ^not even fic
tion founded on truth. From a child, he had known
that scripture, which saith — " Search me, O, God,
and know my heart; try me and know my thoughts;
and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead
me in the way everlasting."
Another virtue equally prominent with his truth,
was his benevolent and amiable spirit. This last,
shed a lovely radiance around him, even in old age.
We scarcely deemed him old, though he was verg-

14
ing on threescore and ten. This arose from his
heart being still young. His affections were yet
green. From the dry details of the counting-house
he could mingle in the playfulness of his grand
children : and he had not forgotten, nor relinquish
ed the fresh and natural pleasures of his youth. —
Surely, he had studied the Apostle's description — •
" whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things
are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever
things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely."
It was this beautiful harmony of virtues, which
made him in his place the perfect man of business.
Had he been true only, he would have been re
spected, but not loved, as his memory is this day
embalmed ; had he been only soft and amiable,
his heart would have failed him in the performance
of necessary duty ; but the one balancing the other
in fine harmony — so rarely seen — commanding alike
our admiration and esteem.
This feature of tender loveliness in one, who had
the greater part of his lifetime, been engaged in the
guidance of a monetary institution, where the milk
of human kindness is supposed never to flow, was
the more remarkable in him, and was so to the
close. A letter written to a son at a distance, pro
bably the last lines drawn by his pen, lies still un
finished, as a message from the dead for him, to
whom it was intended ; and to them who have seen
it, remains an evidence of that taste, and truth, and
tenderness, which we still admire and love, and
would fain imitate.
As a community, we have met to mourn and sym-

15
pathize with this wide circle of weeping friends ;
and chiefly with her — the widowed one— so sud
denly bereft of her earthly stay. There is much in
what we have sincerely spoken, to alleviate her sor
rows ; but the greater, and the purer those virtues,
the more is her loss. Without even the melancholy
pleasure of attending the dying couch, she has seen
the " desire of her eyes taken away by a stroke."
The distance between her and the world he has
just entered, seems now to be a long and lonely
journey, but it is, notwithstanding that gloom which
hangs over the bereaved soul, but a step, and then,
comes a " fulness of joy and pleasures for ever
more." And there are sweet remembrances even
here, on looking back over a pilgrimage, spent with
a fellow traveller of superior excellence. This is
one of the advantages of a well-spent life ; it can be
lived over again in memory, shedding on the earth
ly scenery through which we are moving, the
brightness of youth, and yielding in solitude, a calm,
pure pleasure, scarcely inferior to the first fellow
ship. Besides, there are visions of the night sea
sons, in which, the narrow step is crossed, where
kindred spirits meet, and embrace each other, as
before. The final prospect is no dream, but a " full
assurance of hope." When faith shall be lost in
sight, and hope shall end in fruition ; then shall ^ove
reign supremely in hearts already knit in that " bond
of perfectness."
Fellow-citizens! — we have lost a worthy man;
but he has bequeathed to us an example, which
we may emulate for the good of our county, and of
our common country. By renewed dilhgence in

16
our several vocations, we can make up the loss to
ourselves, and to the community. If we would de
sire honors of a like kind, bestowed upon us, which
are this day so sincerely given to that departed ci
tizen and friend, we must partake of his virtues. —
And may this sudden departure impress us more
than ever, with the solemn thought — " that it is
appointed unto men once to die, and after death, the
judgment !"

APPENDIX.

From the Greene County Whig.
Died, of apoplexy, on Thursday last, in the 66th year of his age,
Hiland Hill, Esq. for thirty years cashier of the Catskill Bank.
Mr. Hill was bom in Saybrook, Conn., in the year 1785, and came
with his parents to this State in his eighth year.
The death of this eminent citizen was so sudden that it came like
a shock to every family of our village ; and the report is now flying
throughout the whole State. Though Mr. Hill had been complain
ing of a slight pain in his chest for a few days previously, there was
nothing to excite alarm, or to prevent him attending his usual
business. His evenness of temper, his regularity of life, and his
fine constitution, inspired his friends with the confidence that he
would " attain unto the years of the life of his father." How vain
ly we calculate ! He went out in the forenoon for the benefit of
exercise with his boat, but was seen to sail but a short distance, then
to fasten her to the wharf, when he came back on shore, taking a
few steps, and then to fall. By the time he was reached he was
dying. — By the side of that stream on which he had sailed since
boyhood, and near by the spot where he spent hb early days, the
" last of earth" came upon him.
Mr. Hill was an uncommon man intellectually. His great mo
desty hid his stores of knowledge from all except his choice friends,
but the direct questions he put, and the brief words he spoke,
showed the well-informed man of sterling thought. His fine taste
was more apparent. This was observed m all that he touched. His
appearance, his manner, and his language were all in keeping with
the purity of his sentiments.
In his business habits Mr. Hill was a model to young men. For
assiduity, correctness and order, he stood first. His long connec-

20
tion with the Catskill Bank is certificate enough to all who have done
business with that institution at a distance, but it was those who
came into daily contact with himself, who felt that they were in the
presence of a generous as well as a, just man ; so that the sauvity of
his manners made even his refusals less painful. He secured his
friends, and was never known to make an enemy.
Mr. Hill's moral qualities might be truly said to be to him an in
heritance. His father was an " Israelite indeed in whom there was
no guile." The savour of his name still hngers around us like de
licious fragrance. The same virtues — simplicity, integrity, and chris
tian dignity, descended to this " worthy son of a worthy sire." The
subdued spirit, that shone continually in his unaffected smile ; his
tastes, so fresh, so pure and natural ; his affections, so warm, and
wisely directed towards his family ; and his ever-beaming kindness
to all his friends, pointed him out not only as a " righteous man" in
the highest sense, whom all must respect, but also as a " good man
for whom some would even dare to die."

From the Catskill Recorder and Democrat.
The funeral of Mr. Hill was attended at 3 o'clock, P. M. on Sa
turday, when the sympathy of this whole community was caUed
forth in a mo.st unusual degree. Every one seemed to have lost an
intimate friend. There was a cloud upon every face, and many tears
fell from eyes unused to weep ; business was entirely suspended,
and our streets presented the appearance of a day of fasting and
sorrow ; all the stores were closed, and man, woman, and child came
to do homage to departed worth.
The funeral services were held in the Presbyterian Church, in the
presence of a large congregation, who sat solemnly and sorrowfully
looking towards the coffin, which contained the remams of him who
had so recently been in the same place, ahve, well, and worshipful
himself. Prayers, and an address were given by Rev. Messrs, Piatt
and Murdoch, in the absence of Mr. Howard, the regular clergy
man : but no words, however "fitly spoken," could reach the depth
of that emotion already in every bosom, and which found relief more
in " expressive silence" than in lengthened speech.

21
It seemed as if the visible heavens sympathized, both with the
gloom and the hope of the occasion, from the remarkable appear
ance of the clouds during the afternoon. All the time the services
continued, the house was so dark, that it was with difficulty the
clergyman coidd distinctly see his manuscript ; and the faces of the
audience, were veiled as in twilight ; but as the procession moved to
our beautiful burying place, the clouds dispersed in a brief falUng
shower ; so that by the time the body was lowered into the grave,
and the last farewell taken, the sun had broken through the dark
ness, and showed those mountains now in then- glory, which the
deceased loved so well to look upon from his boyhood. At this
moment one of the most brilliant rainbows spanned the heavens, and
seemed to say to the weeping mourners, " ye sorrow not like them
who have no hope, for if you believe that Jesus died and rose again,
even so them who sleep in Jesus, will God bring with him."
At a meeting of the Board of Directors of the Catskill Bank, held
at their Banking House, on the morning of the 11th instant, the
following preamble and resolutions were offered by Francis N.
Wilson, and imanimously adopted :
Whereas, By a dispensation of Providence, in the sudden removal,
by death, of Hiland Hill, who for thirty years has sustained the
relation of Cashier to this institution, with an integrity unquestioned,
and an ability vmsurpassed, the Catskill Bank has met with an irre
parable loss ; and whereas. The confidential relation existing between
the deceased and the members of this Board, as representatives of
the stockholders, and which relation was sustained by him with a
courtesy of manner, a faithfulness, and a watchful regard for the in
terests of those we represent, as to make this mark of respect emi
nently deserving. Therefore, be it
Besohed, That in the death of Hiland Hill, late Cashier, thisin-
siitution is deprived of the services of an invaluable officer, our vil
lage of an honored and esteemed citizen, and his family of a beloved
husband and father.
Resolved, That we tender to the afflicted family of the deceased,
our heartfelt sympathy and condolence, in this most severe and un
expected bereavement.
Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions, signed by the President

22
in behalf of the Board, be presented to the family of the deceased,
and also, that they be entered upon the mmutes, and published in
the village papers. By order of the Board of Durectors,
F. N. WILSON, President.

23
NOTE.
The father of Mr. Hill was one of the earliest immigrants from
New England to Catskdl, and brought with him all the good charac
teristics of that race — industry, intelligence, ingenuity and piety.
To human eyes, he had as few blemishes or foibles as fall even to
good men. The vase seem'd to be without a single outward de
fect. In his business as a ship-builder, he raised the character of
the village he lived in so much that his vessels became celebrated
along the whole sea-board, and in the West India trade : indeed, it
is not saying too much, that the Anierioan marine is indebted to his
skill for the beauty of their models, and their fast-saihng qualities.
The Teazer, first a merchant vessel, and afterwards the famous pri
vateer of that name, was built by Mr. Hill. She became the terror
of British merchants, and the tantalizer of British frigates through the
war of 1814 ; and will remain in long remembrance for the rapidity
with which she carried away her prizes, in the face of a powerful
enemy. She was launched near the very spot where the younger
Mr. H. fell and died. Long after the old gentleman had retired
from active Ufe, he might be seen alone in his little work-shop, busy
with his tools, and when urged by his children to put all aside, he
would say, " if you wish me to live, let me work."
His close observation of men and nature, made him the surest
chronicle that could be consulted in reference to pact events. But
the knowledge he possessed of the world in its progress, of men, and
of books was greater than was apparent at a first introduction. It
was sometimes provoking to hear him listen, with the most childhke
teachableness, to all one had to say, and then, at the close, find out
incidentally, that his acquaintance with the subject was greater than
his would-be instructor.
His meekness was proverbial, united with great firmness of pur
pose. It is told of him, that a boisterous workman abused him so,
that Mrs. H. losing patience, said, " Why, Mr. Hill, do you sit
there and say nothing?" "I was thinking," said the patient man,
" whether or not there was any part of it true."
But his piety was his great ornament. He was truly a holy man ;
and it has been, long as the present generation can remember, com
mon for the religious portion of the community to point to him as an
example of true consistency. The scofier became silent at the name
of Deacon Hill. He and his aged partner, who survived him but a
little while, went " down to the grave like a shock of corn fully ripe."