own ruined condition by nature-then first he saw that holiness of Jehovah, of which he had before heard, by the hearing of the ear; wherefore he abhorred himself, and repented in dust and ashes. That very night, says a friend, I recollect him coming into his bedroom, and, in bitterness of spirit, prostrating his soul before that God, whom then first he knew, in the holiness of his nature, and the power of his love, and there he offered up his solemn vow of dedication to the Lord his Redeemer-a vow which was ratified in heaven. From that day forward he exhibited all the marks of a changed character. On the next night, adds the same friend, I remember his arguing, till a late hour, on the subject of redeeming love, (which then was to me but a sound, but which has since become, through his instrumentality, I trust, a living and abiding principle in my soul;) and that spirit of missionary zeal which his soul caught that night from heaven, he lost not, till it returned, with its immortal possessor, to the God who gave it. He did not, immediately after his conversion, form the idea of going into the ministry. For I recollect having many long walks with him in the country, speaking of the wide field which our purposed profession (medicine) would open to our benevolence, and discussing the many plans of devoted philanthrophy which his generous soul contemplated. Though naturally of a very warm and lively spirit, and mingling amidst a class of young men, often thoughtless, sometimes dissipated, yet he never was addicted to any vice. He was, when in the country, fond of what are called field sports, which, in the opinion and language of the world, are generally considered innocent amusements; yet these he immediately resigned, together with all his former companions, counting all things but loss, that he might win Christ. When first he suggested his purpose of entering into the ministry, his kindest and best friends discouraged him from proceeding. They blamed him for relinquishing the prospects of success that were opening before him in the profession of medicine; they did not then comprehend the overwhelming power of the motives by which he was actuated, nor the extent of that devotedness which he felt towards his Lord and Redeemer. At last, after struggling against the current of what he could not but consider well meant and friendly advice, his views became known to a Rev. friend, who, though belonging to a different body of Christians, en. couraged him to perseverance in his purposes, counselled him with his best advice, and cheered him onward in the prosecution of his studies. He now immediately sat down to a course of very hard reading, though his health was not 'then good; for he had caught inflammation of the lungs, which laid the foundation of that pulmonary complaint of which he died. He continued labouring in his studies for somewhat more than a year, under difficulties and discouragements of 'no ordinary kind, and entered Trinity College, Dublin, about the year 1823. He continued to struggle with the same difficulties, after entering college. Though often in ill health, he had to read and compete with men of the first talent, pursuing his studies generally by night, and labouring all day with private tuition. Yet notwithstanding these disadvantages, he was, on the very first examination, taken in for the science premium; and during his whole undergraduate course, always obtained respectable rank. He never devoted his mind to science or to literature, éxcept in subserviency to the grand object he had in view. In the first year, he obtained the catechetical premium ; and in the following year, the same premium again. During the greater part of his college course, he remained as private tutor in the family of an eminent physician, an amiable Christian, by whom he was treated with paternal kindness. His studies completed, he entered the Dublin Presbytery; and, under their sanction, was, in the month of November, 1826, licensed to preach the Gospel. About three months after, he accepted the call to Downpatrick. In that place his ministry, though short, has not been. fruitless; and there is good reason to hope, that he will have many for a crown at the great day of the Lord. We now proceed to state briefly a few circumstances attending his departure. During the progress of his disease, he suffered much, yet Christian patience was manifest in all his distress. Not a murmur escaped his lip-no, not till the end. On one occasion his mother said, Oh! William, your sufferings are great. He raised his poor emaciated hand, and said, hush! not a word of com. plaint. It is the hand of God; and then repeated these lines from Toplady: "Sweet to lie passive in thy hand, And know no will but thine." One evening, a friend asked him how his mind felt ?"Quite at rest," was his reply. "I have no fear. I know whom I have believed. Whatever be the issue of my sufferings, I have no fear. But, I think, the Lord has more work for me to do, and that he may yet raise me up.” On another occasion, he made similar remarks on some inquiries of his friends, and added to this effect-"There remaineth now no condemnation to those that are in Christ Jesus." He then repeated this verse, which he much admired "Nothing in my hands I bring, Helpless look to thee for grace." One night, about a fortnight before his death, his relatives were gathered round him, and he saw by their countenances that they were in great apprehensions. "Oh! my friends," said he, "kneel down around my bed-kneel down, and let one of you engage in prayer." When from the melancholy tone in which he made this request, one of his friends was led to observe, "I hope your mind is at ease, and that your heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord ?" He replied, "I have no fear." On another occasion, he said, "I know what my Redeemer has done for my soul, and I would wish to remain a little longer to do something for him." On the Sabbath morning, (the last he spent on earth, for in three days after he entered into a sabbath of rest, eternal in the heavens,) about six o'clock he said, "What day is this?" on being told it was the Sabbath, he immediately commenced, as well as his poor feeble voice enabled him, to sing the cxxii. psalm— "Oh! how overjoyed was I, When the solemn hour drew nigh; But his poor worn frame not being able to proceed beyond the first line, he requested that it should be finished for him. The same day, about twelve o'clock, a friend was supporting him in his arms, and his head lay reclined on his bosom, he felt himself so much eased, that he expresed himself quite overcome with a sense of the goodness of God; and when one of his attendant relatives offered him some medicine which he needed, he said, "Oh! my dear friend, suffer me-suffer me to indulge my feelings of thankfulness to God, which are, indeed, greater than my worn frame can bear;" and he exclaimed, "Surely the goodness and mercy of the Lord have followed me all the days of my life; and now, when heart and flesh do faint and fail, God is the strength of my heart. He has surrounded me with such kind friends. Oh! my dear-dear friends, if I am restored, how-how shall I ever repay you? and if I am removed, the Lord is my portion for ever." These were the last satisfactory expressions of his hope; for that night he became delirious, from the want of sleep, which he had not enjoyed during several days. Yet even in the midst of his delirium, he would often utter such broken sentences as the following, which, though not so full as could be desired, nevertheless sufficiently manifest the heaven-ward current of his thoughts, and blissful state of his mind, viz.: "To be for ever with him is farfar better;" and, "for ever, for ever," with others of a similar character. Sometimes he would be employed going over the list of Ministers who were to supply his pulpit, and making various remarks on them, as, "Aye, a good man," and, "O yes, he will do, he will speak to the conscience," &c. This shows that Christ, his cause, his people, were on his heart, even unto death; and that in death he was full of the peace of the justified, and the hope of the righteous. Still the remark of John Newton forcibly presents itself: "Tell me not how a man died, but how he lived." And here we have consolation, in looking back on the life of William D. Stewart; for we do believe, that if he had an enemy, even he must confess that his life was one of zeal and self-denying devotedness, not often met, and seldom equalled. Pressing forward for the prize of the high calling of God, he cast a world of fascination and ambition behind him. He became a devoted missionary, an isolated missionary, labouring amidst difficulties that would have depressed a less determined spirit; and, finally, he never anticipated any other end than that which he obtained, "to spend and be spent in the cause of Christ." On the evening of July 21st, 1831, after a severe struggle of three hours of intense suffering, he entered into rest. May the Lord raise up many such labourers for his vineyard! [P. S.-In our next Number, we shall give a brief Pastoral Address> written to his congregation from his death-bed.-EDIT.] ERRATA. In our last No. page 365, line 9 from bottom, for then, read there. Same page, line 4 from bottom, for propable, read probable. Page 381, first line of title, for expression read profession. |