―319―

AMERICAN

REGISTER OF DEATHS.

on the fourth of july, at
his, residence, at dedham,
near boston, died
FISHER AMES.

This event being made known
to his Friends in Boston, a re-
quest was made in the papers, for
a meeting of the citizens on
Tuesday morning, on the floor
of the State-House, to take mea-
sures to testify their respect for
the character and public services
of the deceased. Agreeably to this
request, a large number assem-
bled, and having chosen the Hon.
Judge Parsons, Moderator, the
following resolutions moved by
the Hon. Mr. Otis, and seconded
by the Hon. Mr. Gore, were u-
nanimously adopted, viz.—

It being of the greatest utility
as well as moral fitness, to pay pub-
lic honors to the memory of those
whose lives have been eminently
useful; finding it having pleased
God, to take from us fisher
ames—a man whose virtues and
talents have honored the Ameri-
can name; the citizens of Bos-

ton are desirous to exhibit their
sense of his exalted worth, by a
tribute of public respect: —it is
therefore unanimously

Resolved, That in the name of
this meeting, the family of Mr.
Ames, be respectfully requested
to permit his remains to be
brought to this town, to be inter-
ed in the manner which a com-
mittee appointed by this meeting
shall prescribe.

Resolved, That the Hon. Tho-
mas H. Perkins, William Phil-
lips, Esq. Samuel Parkman, Esq.
John Warren Esq. Samuel Brad-
ford, Esq. Hon. Simon Elliot,
Hon. James Lloyd, jun. Arnold
Welles, Esq. Stephen Higgin-
son, jun. Esq. John T. Apthorp,
Esq. Charles Bulfinch, Esq. and
Mr. Benjamin Joy, be a commit-
tee for the purpose of carrying
the foregoing resolutions into ef-
fect, and of making all proper
and necessary arrangements for
the funeral.

Resolved, That the committee
of arrangements be instructed in

―320―


behalf of this meeting to apply to
the Hon. samuel dexter, and
request him to pronounce, at the
time of the interment, an address
upon the melancholy occasion.

Agreeably to the regulations a-
dopted by the committee of ar-
rangements, the

funeral procession,

Of the remains of the departed
sage and patriot, took place yes-
terday, at five o'clock, from the
dwelling house of the Hon.
christopher gore, Park street,
and proceeded in the following
order through Winter and Mars-
borough streets, Cornhill, Court
and Tremont streets, to the Cha-
pel.

order of procession.

A Deputy Marshal.

The Junior and Senior Classes
of Harvard University.

The Tutors and Professors.

The Rev. Clergy of this and
the neighboring towns.

The President of the Univer-
sity.

Head Marshal.

Committee of Arrangements.

Officiating Clergymen.

• Hon. h. g. otis
• Hon. e. h. robbins
• Hon. t. parsons
• CORPSE.
• Hon. c. gore,
• Hon. g. cabot,
• Hon. t. picke-
  ring,

Relations.

Neighbors and Townsmen of
the deceased.

His Excellency the Governor,
and his honor the Lieutenant Go-
vernor.

Honorable Council.

Secretary and Treasurer of
State.

Hon. President of the Senate
and Speaker of the house.

Judges of the Supreme Judi-
cial Court.

Judges of the United States
Circuit Court.

Judges of the Common Pleas,
and Municipal Courts.

Members of Congress.

Secretary of the Senate of the
United States.

Attorney General, Solicitor
General, and Reporter.

Gentlemen of the Bar.

Societies of which the deceas-
ed was a member, viz: 1. Aca-
demy of Arts and Sciences. 2.
Humane Society. 3. Agricultu-
ral Society. 4. Historical So-
ciety.

Selectmen of Boston.

Town Officers, Strangers and
Citizens.

When arrived at the Chapel,
the body was placed before the
Altar; and divine services per-
formed by the Rev. Mr. Mon-
tague, and Rev. Mr. Gardiner.—
After which the Honorable Sa-
muel Dexter delivered to an
uncommonly crowded auditory,
a very eloquent and pathetic fu-
neral oration.

The concourse of citizens was
great beyond example. Every
heart seemed to swell with grief;
and every eye glistened with sor-
row. A solemn silence proclaim-
ed that “the loss of such a man,
at such a time” was irreparable
to his country, his family, and his
friends.

While the procession was mov-
ing to the Chapel, the flags on
board the shipping in the harbor,

―321―

were hoisted half mast, and the
stores and shops in the several
streets through which it passed,
were shut in testimony of respect
to the deceased patriot and phi-
lanthropist.

The friends of Mr. Ames and
the public were highly gratified
that Mr. Dexter was willing to
pronounce the funeral oration.—
They felt it to be a delicate and
arduous task. The execution of
this task was very complete. It
was worthy of the deceased and
honorable to the talents and sensi-
bilities of the orator. With ve-
ry little opportunity to prepare
and with nothing written but a
few hints of topicks—Mr. D. pro-
nounced a methodical, full and
impressive eulogium, containing
the prominent facts in the history
of the life of Mr. A. and deline-
ating with strength and exactness
the features of his character.

The following are some of the
particulars related by the Orator.

Mr. Ames was a native of the
town of Dedham. His father was
a respectable physician; and like
his son was removed from life in
the meridian of his years. He
was the youngest of the children
who survived him. The mother
as if anticipating the future lustre
of the jewel committed to her
care, laboured to give this son an
adequate education. At the age
of twelve he became a member
of Harvard College—an age too
young for the mind to grasp many
of those studies which make the
course at the University. He
passed the term of four years in
this place, and received its hon-
ors, enjoying a reputation for ge-
nius and unstained with any vice.
From this period a number of
years appear to have elapsed with-

out any peculiar pursuit; whe-
ther in consequence of the im-
maturity of his years, or the want
of proper counsel and encourage-
ment, or defect of pecuniary
means of perhaps the uncertain
and in many respects, calamitous
circumstances of the times, is not
known. At length he became a
student at law in this town, and
having been admitted to the bar,
began the exercise of his profes-
sion in his native place. But
such a man could not be made to
enter into the spirit of village con-
tention. His expansive mind
embraced the interests of the
whole. His views were already
directed to the care of his coun-
try. He began to be known by
his profound and elegant discus-
sions of some of the political to-
picks of the times, which were
published in the newspapers and
which were traced to his pen.—
The affairs of our country wore a
a doubtful aspect. There was no
government to bind the states to-
gether. The federal constitution
had been submitted to the seve-
ral states, and Mr. Ames was cho-
sen a member of the convention
of Massachusetts for taking this
instrument into consideration. In
this dignified and interesting as-
sembly, the splendour of his ta-
lents burst forth to the public ad-
miration and astonishment. Such
was the impression made on the
minds of the people by his dis-
play of wisdom, of patriotism and
eloquence in this body, that he
was not only chosen into the le-
gislature by his native town, but
the next autumn elected the first
representative to congress from
this district. For eight years af-
ter he ran his bright course in
the legislature of the nation. You

―322―

are all acquainted with the con-
stant exhibition of talents and
love of country, which he made
during this term. In the debates
on every important question, he
was a principal speaker. Towards
the close of the period mention-
ed, his health was found to be
failing. The great question of
making appropriations for ratify-
ing a treaty with Great Britain
was then to be determined. He
attended the long and momentu-
ous debate upon this measure in
silence, and his friends were de-
spairing of his assistance, lest if
the exertion it would require
should be made, it would prove
fatal to the feeble remains of his
life. He, however, before the
final vote, yielded to the emotions
which the subject could not but
excite, and spoke to the question.
His tones, his looks, his senti-
ments and his feelings were those
of a man who would probably
soon be heard no more. Stand-
ing on the verge of life, he ut-
tered his counsel and warnings,
his reasonings and persuasions.
Such was the effect of his elo-
quence, that one of the opponents
rose after he had done, and ob-
jected to taking the minds of the
members at that time, because
they had been carried away by
the impulse of oratory, and ought
to adjourn for the purpose of re-
flecting, whether it was reason or
feeling that had them in subjec-
tion—and they did adjourn upon
the suggestion.

When Mr. Ames had finished
this effort of patriotic zeal and
sublime eloquence, the citizens
of every description were eager to
know its effects upon his health;
continually besieging the doors of
his lodgings with inquiries and

and with testimonies of a desire
to contribute to his comfort and
restoration. Having recover-
ed, so as to be able to travel, he
commenced a journey through
the middle states. His general
reputation and the sensations ex-
cited by his recent exertions,
made him, on this tour, the ob-
ject of the most interesting atten-
tion. He was every where re-
ceived with public and individual
tokens of respect. He was hail-
ed as among the first of the bene-
factors and the brightest orna-
ments of his country. The col-
lege of New Jersey, at that time,
consulted its own honor, as well
as his, by conferring on him the
degree of Doctor of Laws.

Frail in health, fond of retire-
ment, of home felt joys and rural
occupations, and weary of public
cares, Mr. Ames, from this time,
became a private citizen. A few
years before, he was married to a
lady, the ornament of her sex,
now his widow; on whom has
devolved the care of those chil-
dren, whom it would have been
the delight of their father to have
conducted into life. Happy it is
for them, and consoling to their
friends that she possesses, in so
eminent a degree, the qualities
and dispositions that fit her for
the task.

But though Mr. Ames sought
retirement, he was still in many
respects a public benefactor and
servant. For a few years he con-
sented to be a member of the
council of the state. He operat-
ed far around him by the influence
of his conversation, and his writ-
ings in the public papers. On
every question of importance, his
opinion was sought and expected.
When the country was in tears

―323―

at the death of Washington, he
was chosen by the Legislature, to
pronounce an eulogium; in
which, though his friends knew
he did not satisfy himself, he was
admitted by impartial judges, to
have executed an almost imprac-
ticable task, in a noble and affect-
ing manner.

Within a few years past, the
office of President of Cambridge
being vacant, he was unanimous-
ly chosen to fill the place. All
admitted that the brilliancy and
the solidity of his talents, his love
of learning and of virtue, his sua-
vity of temper and manners,
would have rendered him the
greatest blessing to the institu-
tion: but considerations of health
alone, if other reasons had per-
mitted, would not allow him to
accept the station.

For a long time, he has been
lingering out of life; we have
seen him in pain and languor, an
example of dignified composure
and cheerfulness; patience and
benevolence. His solicitudes for
his country never forsook his
heart. He saw death approach-
ing—that rectitude of intention,
that sublimity of virtue which had
governed and exalted him in life,
sustained him in his conflict with
the last enemy. On the morning
of the anniversary, which cele-
brates the birth of his country, on
the spot which gave him birth,
without a struggle or a pang he
resigned his breath.

Of all the gifts of the Supreme
Father to his children, intellect
is allowed to hold the most dis-
tinguished rank. The mind of
Mr. Ames was of a great and ex-
traordinary character. Always
right, he yet seemed to arrive at
the truth by intuition rather than

by investigation. He reasoned,
but not in the forms of logic. By
striking and forcible illustrations
more than by regular deductions,
he compelled assent. The rich-
ness and vividness of his fancy,
the fertility of his invention, the
abundance of his thoughts, were as
remarkable as the justness and
strength of his understanding.
He had a brillancy which at once
instructed and astonished. From
the multitude and the quickness
of his perceptions he would be
found sometimes to deviate from
his principal subject, warmed by
some single idea or particular
imagery. But though he wander-
ed, he was never lost, and return-
ed to his main object, with an
energy and pointedness the more
striking for his digressions.

His political character is
known from his writings, his
speeches, his measures. He lov-
ed the people, but he would not
flatter their passions.

His moral character, who can
impeach? It was pure beyond my
power to express. He had faults
it is certain, for he was a man;
but they who lived in the nearest
intimacy saw no blemish. To
the world he appeared “a fault-
less monster.” Achilles might
have been vulnerable in the heel,
but his enemies have not been
able to make this discovery.

From the contemplation of the
works of creation and his own
frame, he believed that man is
subject to a moral government,
and destined to another life. A
mind like his could not overlook
the simple grandeur of the cha-
racter of the founder of christi-
anity. Feelings like his could
not be uninterested in the ques-
tion concerning his pretensions.

―324―

He examined the subject with
independence and candor, and the
result was a conviction and a pro-
fession of the truth of christi-
anity.

The powers of his conversation
were unequalled. It was not
mere instruction, mere amuse-
ment—it was delight. There
was an endless play of fancy, join-
ed to the truest sense and wis-
dom.

The following sketches of the
character of Mr. Ames are taken
from the production of an anony-
mous hand, in a Boston publica-
tion.

In the character of Mr. Ames,
our own state, our nation indeed
has much of which it may justly
be proud. His example is in-
valuable to statesmen; to our
citizens at large and to the pro-
mising part of our youth it is in-
estimable. It would not be ex-
travagant to say, that under all
aspects, he was one of the first
men of the age. If health, if am-
bition, if fortune, if a desire of
distinction had co-operated with
his profound and unexampled ge-
nius, it is hardly possible to say
to what a height of reputation he
might have attained. But a feeble
and morbid physical constitution,
an unconquerable modesty, and
an unfeigned and invincible at-
tachment to domestic enjoyments,
restrained the range of a mind
which indulgent nature had ren-
dered almost uncontrolable in its
powers.

The little which the public
know of the character of Mr.
Ames would be deemed much of
any other man; but his intimate

friends, those who enjoyed and
were honored and delighted with
his conversation and friendship,
are sensible that the world knew
but little of his talents or merit.

Of the vivacity, fertility, and
richness of his imagination, every
man who had the smallest pre-
tension to taste, learning or dis-
crimination can bear the most
ample testimony. In this respect
he stands without a rival in our
own country, and if we can be per-
mitted to judge from the printed
works of cotemporaneous Euro-
peans, there has been but one
man of his age who can be placed
in comparison with him. If Mr.
Burke excelled him in richness
and variety of his imagery, in the
beauty and attitude of his classic
allusions, it can be attributed only
to the superior advantages of an
early and excellent education, and
to more extended practice in the
best school of modern eloquence,
the British Parliament.

If the health of Mr. Ames had
permitted him to pursue his na-
tural disposition for political dis-
quisition, and parliamentary dis-
cussion, and if he had lived to the
mature age of Mr. Burke, it is
much to be doubted whether he
would not have been a very for-
midable rival to that unequalled
statesman.

But the exuberance and chas-
tity of Mr. Ames's imagination
were among the smallest of his
talents, as they were of no ac-
count in comparison with his pub-
lic and private virtues. The pro-
foundness of his mind, the ex-
tent and correctness of his politi-
cal and moral reflections far ex-
ceeded the splendor and inex-
haustible fertility of his fancy.
No man ever entered his society

―325―

without being informed, and few
quitted it without being improv-
ed. The most abstract thoughts,
the most profound ideas seemed
to flow from him without any
mental exertion. Although ca-
pable of entering into abstruse
disquisitions on every subject,
yet a natural bias to politics, the
habits of early life, and a patriot-
ism sincere, strong, and ardent
even in death, led him chiefly to
confine his vast mind to the poli-
tical situation of the world and
more especially of his own coun-
try. Living in an age the most
changeful, and the most eventful,
he gave full scope to his deep and
penetrating understanding. He
perceived the causes, and the
consequences of passing mea-
sures unnoticed by thoughtless
and vulgar statesmen; and if his
prophecies of future events should
be as strictly fulfilled hereafter as
they have heretofore been, his
surviving fellow patriots have no
small reason of disquiet and ap-
prehension.

He was one of the few men
who foresaw and foretold the
frightful despotism which would
terminate the French revolution;
and if his predictions of the ef-
fects of the influence of aspiring
demagogues are (as they are like-
ly to be) as literally fulfilled in
our own country, this amiable and
regretted prophet has not found
too early a grave.

Of the events of such a man's
life, shrinking from public no-
tice, and dreading public distinc-
tion, courting only domestic and
literary enjoyments, little ought
to be said, because although dis-
tinguished and honoured by his
country, he conferred more ho-
nour than he received.

Let those who have no other
merit than official distinctions re-
tail the long catalogue of their ti-
tles, it is sufficient to say of Mr.
Ames that in the few offices into
which he was forced, he render-
ed his country services which no
other man could render, and he
left behind him in the councils of
the nation, an example and repu-
tation, which it is, and ought to
be the pride of his successors to
imitate, though few can hope to
equal.

Of his brightest, best traits,
those of domestic and retired life,
those which ornamented and ex-
alted the man above the states-
man, one could never be weary
in their praise. But there was a
tenderness and delicacy which
his inestimable softnesss of cha-
racter excited in his relations and
friends, which ought not to be
wounded. Of such sentiments
and such sensibilities those who
did not know him cannot judge.
Their loss can never be too much
deplored, their wounds can never
be healed, the world can never
repair the one or cure the other.

At Burlington, N. J. in the
seventy-third year of her age,
Mrs. Hannah Boudinot, wife of
Elias Boudinot, Esq. late of this
city.

Her illness was short, but
without pain: as she had lived
in the exercise of every social
virtue and every christian grace,
her departure, though unexpect-
ed by others, was not sudden to
herself.

Vain were the attempt, in the
compass of a few sentences, to
pourtray the rare and varied ex-

―326―

cellence of this distinguished
character. Endowed with an un-
derstanding at once correct and
enlarged, with a heart that glow-
ed with fervent piety to God, and
with undissembled kindness to
her fellow-creatures; she was
devout without superstition, and
charitable without ostentation:
possessing a native prudence,
cultivated by habitual circum-
spection. She “abstained even
from the appearance of evil.”
Her benevolence was quick to
feel, and always prompt to re-
lieve, as well the sorrows of the
afflicted, as the wants of the in-
digent. Her life has been long,
happy, and eminently useful;
while the tears of unaffected sor-
row bedew her grave, the me-
mory of her exalted virtues will
never cease to be cherished by
her affected relations and friends.
To all who knew and loved her,
it is a source of inexpressible
consolation, that the daily habits
of her life were conformed to
the spirit of the Gospel and the
example of her Saviour.

At Alexandria, Virginia, June
27, after a short but severe ill-
ness, Mrs. Ann Warren, the a-
miable consort of Mr. Warren,
one of the managers of the Phi-
ladelphia and Baltimore Theatres.

To enter into a detail of the
excellencies of Mrs. Warren's
theatrical character would be su-
perfluous, her celebrity having
long since diffused itself over
both her native and this her a-
dopted country.

In her the American stage has
been deprived of its brightest or-
nament, not more conspicuous

from her unrivalled excellence
in her profession, than from her
having uniformly preserved a
spotless and unsullied fame;
proving by her fair example that
an unblemished reputation is by
no means incompatible with a
theatrical life

In the circle of her intimate
friends her loss will be most
poignantly felt; for to them the
many virtues and accomplish-
ments which adorned her private
life were best known. To a
warm, feeling, and affectionate
heart, were added that fascinating
ease and grace in conversation,
which regulated by an excellent
understanding, delighted, at the
same time that it improved.

But, alas! that eye is now dim
and closed forever which has so
often communicated its magic in-
fluence to the heart; and mute
is that tongue, whose flexible and
silver tones so sympathetically
vibrated upon the ear of an en-
raptured audience. And never
could the observation of a cele-
brated moralist upon a similar
occasion, be more applicable than
upon the present: “Death has
eclipsed the gaiety of nations,
and diminished the public stock
of harmless pleasure.”

On June 17, died at Charles-
ton, South Carolina, in the se-
venty-sixth year of his age, Tho-
mas Rivers, Esq. a native of that
state, and one who had long rank-
ed among its truly respectable ci-
tizens. Before the revolutionary
war he was numbered with the
wealthy; since that period his
circumstances have been more in
the style of mediocrity. In the

―327―

time of the war he held a seat in
the state legislature, was a firm
adherent to the cause of his
country, and a zealous supporter
of its liberties, both civil and re-
ligious. His love of domestic
life induced him afterwards to re-
sist the solicitations of his friends,
whose suffrages would have con-
tinued him in the legislature.

Mr. Rivers had a mind formed
for friendship and social inter-
course. In relative life he was
distinguished as an affectionate
husband, a tender parent, and a
humane master. The moral vir-
tures he cultivated with care;
connecting them with the reli-
gion of the Gospel, and founding
them on its principles, as on their
proper basis. His profession of
serious piety began when he was
a young man; and his friends
have the satisfaction to think,
from their knowledge of his tem-
per and conduct, that it was sup-
ported through life with as much
consistency as could reasonably
be expected of imperfect man.

It pleased God to visit him,
during the last six years of his
life, with severe afflictions of the
nervous kind; in which he expe-
rienced great debility of mind as
well as body. But through the
whole he expressed much resig-
nation to the will of God, and
concern for the Divine Glory;
with a steadfast faith in the merit
and grace of the Redeemer. On
the subject of religion he was al-
ways most collected and compo-
sed; and from this source ap-
peared to derive his chief con-
solation.

His remains were deposited
in the cemetry of the Baptist
Church; of which church he had
been more than 50 years a mem-

ber, and many years a deacon.
He has left a widow, three sons,
and a large number of relations,
as well as friends, to lament the
loss they have sustained by his
death.

In New Jersey, on the 29th
June, society and the church
were deprived of an useful mem-
ber in the death of Dr. David
Jackson. One who was intimate
with him, and frequently met
with him in social prayer, feels
sensibly this dispensation of Pro-
vidence; but little, comparative-
ly speaking, is an individual's
loss in this good man, to what
the public at large must experi-
ence. He was a friend to the
friendless; a benevolent disposi-
tion was prevalent with him, and
he was ever ready to lend a kind
aid to useful institutions in church
and state. This friend of piety
was always at his post; in his fa-
mily, in private society, and in
the church.

Near Carlisle, Penn. August
3d, in the 87th year of his age,
John Montgomery, Esq. an asso-
ciate judge of the court of com-
mon pleas of Cumberland coun-
ty.

This gentleman was a native
of Ireland, who emigrated in his
youth to this country, and was a-
mong the first inhabitants of Car-
lisle. The strict integrity which
marked all his dealings, the good
sense which early distinguished
him, and his unremitted exer-
tions to promote the public good,
did not long remain unnoticed.

―328―

Shortly after the erection of that
county he was called on by the
unanimous voice of the people
to represent them in the provin-
cial legislature; to this seat he
was annually elected until the re-
volution. Zealously attached to
the cause of his country, he was
again called into her councils,
and for many years discharged
the duties of a state legislator.
During the most critical period of
the revolution he was chosen to
represent this state in the con-
gress of the United States. The
duties of these appointments were
discharged by him with acknow-
ledged fidelity: the local inter-
ests of his county were promot-
ed by him, and by his exertions
many peculiar advantages were
conferred on that town.

The elegant edifice, the pres-
byterian church in that borough,
may justly be attributed to his
uncommon industry and perse-
vering zeal. Dickinson College
owes its origin to him; he per-
severed under the most unpro-
mising appearances, under diffi-
culties that would have subdued a
common mind. We all have wit-
nessed and admired his unceas-
ing exertions, when worn down
by infirmity and age, in promot-
ing the interests of that institu-
tion.

In all his public life, the pub-
lic good was his great object:
private emolument, the acquisi-
tion of wealth, were never min-
gled with his public conduct;
all these were sacrificed. His
piety, integrity, patriotism and
benevolence gave him a distin-
guished rank among our citizens.
The purity of his intentions was
never questioned, even in the
bitterness of party and political

animosities. The duties of a
judge were discharged with the
most inflexible integrity. As a
father, husband and friend he
will never cease to be remem-
bered.

In a life, longer than that
which is generally allotted to
man, he has left much to endear
his memory to us, and nothing
wherewith to reproach his
reputation. To his children
he has left that which ex-
cels all worldly inheritance, a
bright example of a well spent
life, a character untarnished and
without reproach.

On the 10th August, at Hard-
wicke, Georgia, in the twenty-
sixth year of his age, Mr. George
Mifflin. Mr. Mifflin joined to a
sound and highly cultivated mind,
mild and amiable manners and
correct deportment. His dispo-
sition, though serious and con-
templative, did not reject the
gayest effusions of wit, or the
charms of colloquial intercourse.
Qualified by a refined and deli-
cate taste to enjoy the chastest
sports of imagination, he sought
in books for the most polished
productions of our language, and
from society the highest cultiva-
tion of intellect; and these were
peculiarly to him “the feast of
reason and the flow of soul.”

The virtues of his heart were
in unison with the refinement of
his understanding. His sensibi-
lity was accute; his disposition
generous, manly, and sincere;
and his temper, though reserved,
affectionate and kind. He was
the best of husbands, a faithful
friend, a worthy, intelligent and
honorable man.

―329―

Near Philadelphia, on the 4th
September, in the sixty-third year
of his age, Mr. Benjamin Shoe-
maker, a man of virtue and un-
derstanding, one of the kindest
and best of fathers, husbands, and
friends.

The retirement in which he
spent the latter part of his life,
although it lessened the benefit of
his example to the world, en-
creased the attachment of those
who were thus enabled to witness
and partake of more of his friend-
ship or benevolence, and it ena-
bled him still more to purify his
own heart and without apprehen-
sion, meet his God.

His funeral was most respecta-
bly attended to the Friends' burial
ground in Germantown, where
for the last twelve years he re-
sided.

At Lyme (Connecticut) John
Noyes, Esq. in the fifty-second
year of his age. He was gradu-
ated at Yale college, 1775. From
1778 to 1783, he was a physician
in the continental army. Settling
in his native town, he was exten-
sively improved, and successful
in the healing art; and variously
employed in civil life. Posses-
sing a sound judgment and firm
mind, he was an impartial minis-
ter of justice, the friend of civil
and religious order, and filled up
life with activity and usefulness;
the liberal and hospitable man and
good neighbor, were amiable
parts of his character. In him
the community have lost a patriot,
and the church of Christ an orna-
mental member. With christian
patience and fortitude he endured

a lingering and distressing sick-
ness; and in a well founded hope
of immortality, resigned his spirit
into the hand of his Redeemer.

At Sheffield (Massachusetts)
general John Fellows, in the
seventy-fourth year of his age.
General Fellows was an old revo-
lutionary officer. He commen-
ced his military career in the
French war. In the revolutiona-
ry war, he had an early appoint-
ment to the command of a regi-
ment, was promoted to the station
of a brigadier on the island of
New York, under general Wash-
ington, and commanded that por-
tion of American militia stationed
on the east side of Hudson's river
when general Burgoyne surren-
dered at Saratoga. He was an
honest and useful citizen; a real
friend to his country; affectionate
as a father, and sincere in friend-
ship.

August 17th, at Bridgetown,
New Jersey, aged 23 years and 7
days, Miss Phœbe Holmes Giles,
daughter of general James Giles,
of that town.

Seldom are we more loudly
called on to note the uncertainty
of our days and most flattering
anticipations, than by the present
blighted prospects and death of
the once blooming subject of this
tributary record.

Gifted by nature with a sound
understanding and amiable dispo-
sition, Miss Giles acquired, un-
der the care of her accomplished
parents all the grace and polish of

―330―

a well bred woman, free from the
vanity and affectation which, too
often, accompany the education
of females in large cities. At
the age of seventeen, she may be
said to have been “loveliness per-
sonified.” Her mental faculties
were in a high state of cultiva-
tion; her form seemed cast in
“nature's fairest mould;” the li-
quid lustre of her intelligent eye,
bespoke a gay and joyous, yet a
feeling heart; health bloomed in
her cheek; and the glow of
youthful animation spread its fas-
cination over every feature. Her
appearance attracted the admira-
tion of those who beheld, and her
worth secured the esteem of those
who knew her. At this period,
in the gay morn of life, when her
heart bounded at the bright pros-
pects opening to her view, and
all was joy and sweet anticipation,
disease laid his chilling hand upon
her. Her frame shrunk at the
touch; she drooped like a blight-
ed flower, and soon became “a
wreck of human loveliness;” but,
though the beauties of her person
had vanished, the brilliancy of her
mind appeared in its true lustre.
During her tedious confinement
she was meek, placid, resigned,
and often cheerful. When death
approached, she received him
with christian fortitude: for, her
mind had long dwelt with plea-
sure on a future state.

At Philadelphia, on the 8th
September, in the thirty-ninth
year of his age, William Sand-
ford, esq, formerly of the Inner
Temple, London, who came to
this country, 1795, and for the
last twelve years acted as an offi-
cer in the bank of Pennsylvania,

being the greater part of that
time, the first book-keeper. His
abilities as an accountant render-
ed him eminently useful, while
the urbanity of his manners, and
the unbounded benevolence of
his heart, commanded the res-
pect and esteem of all who knew
him.

The circumstances attending
the close of this excellent man's
life are somewhat remarkable,
evincing in a very striking man-
ner, the uncertainty of all sublu-
nary prospects and expectations,
and at the same time the blessed
influence of genuine Christianity,
in qualifying the human mind to
receive the summons of death,
however sudden, with tranquillity
and resignation.

Mr. Sandford's unwearied assi-
duity and incorruptible integrity
in executing the duties of his ap-
pointment, induced the directors
of the bank to reward his fidelity
and zeal, by placing him in a si-
tuation of greater responsibility,
of less labour, and more emolu-
ment. With this view, he was
unanimously chosen cashier of
the branch bank to be established
at Easton in this state. But, on
the very day before his intended
departure from this city he was
seized by a violent and invincible
disease, which, in the course of
eight days, notwithstanding the
utmost exertions of medical skill,
effected the separation of his soul
from the body.

The writer of this article visit-
ed him during his illness: at the
time when his physicians announ-
ced the certainty of his approach-
ing dissolution, and just before
it actually took place. Through-
out the whole of this awfully in-
teresting period, Mr. Sandford

―331―

preserved the most undisturbed
serenity of mind, and viewed the
advance of death, not only with
christian resignation, but with a
degree of exhilirating confidence,
and holy exultation, which no-
thing but the animating influence
of that divine religion could in-
spire. Conscious of an habitual
conformity to its precepts, and of
a uniform observance of the rites,
and attendance upon the worship
of the protestant episcopal church
of which he was a zealous and ex-
emplary member, he was always
ready “to give an account of his
stewardship; and has, doubtless,
therefore, now “entered into the
joy of his Lord.” After bidding
an affectionate farewell to his af-
flicted wife, children, and sur-
rounding friends, he expired in
the full possession of all his ra-
tional powers, and immediately
after uttering this triumphant ex-
clamation, “O! What a glorious
place I am going to! May I meet
you all there!”

At Bristol, (r. i.) September
25, in the fifty-third year of his
age, Benjamin Bourn, Esq. one
of the late judges of the circuit
court. The following just cha-
racter of the deceased is copied
from the Boston Repertory.

“In the character of Judge
Bourn were united, in a most re-
markable manner, those qualities
which command respect, and
those which conciliate affection.
He was eminent as a lawyer, re-
spectable as a judge, entertaining
and social as a companion, firm,
independent and upright as a
man. Indeed it would be difficult
to say in which of these relations

he was entitled to the highest es-
teem. It was this union of all
that was engaging and respect-
able, wise and endearing, that
kindled and kept alive the most
ardent attachment of his friends,
and extorted respect and even
praise from his competitors. At
a crisis like the present, his coun-
try cannot well spare so valuable
and staunch a patriot as Judge
Bourn; but his loss will be more
particularly felt and deplored in
his native state, where he has
always resided, and where his sa-
lutary influence has been con-
stantly exerted.”

His funeral was respectfully
attended on Monday by the lodge
of free-masons, at Bristol, a large
concourse of citizens from the
neighbouring towns, and a train
of weeping relatives and sympa-
thising friends—and appropriate
prayer having been made by the
Rev. Mr. Wight, and a handsome
eulogium pronounced at the
meeting-house, by Tristram
Burges, Esq.

On September 11, at Philadel-
phia, Peter Andrews, a worthy
minister of the society of friends.
His character may be compared
to one of the apostles—going
about doing good—mild in his
manners, agreeable in his conver-
sation, and strictly upright in his
conduct, his example aided by
precept, has no doubt been the
means of “winning souls unto
Christ” and from the assurances
left on record, we have no doubt
of his entrance into the blissful
regions of immortality, where
“receiving the just reward of his
merits, he will shine as the stars
for ever and ever.”

―332―

At Newark, (n. j.) Alexander
C. Macwhorter, Esq. of that place;
a lawyer eminent for his talents
and legal information, a man and
a gentleman; honor and honesty
commanded the respect and es-
teem of all who knew him; a
husband and a father, kind, indul-
gent and affectionate; a friend,
warm and sincere.

At Murray-Hill, near New
York, in September, John Mur-
ray, Esq. of the house of John
Murray and Sons, aged seventy
years.

Newspaper eulogy has become
so trite, that affection finds but lit-
tle pleasure in resorting to it as a
means of pointing to departed
merit. But surely the worth of
Mr. Murray claims a notice; and
as surely it cannot be mingled in
the general mass of panegyric.
As president of the chamber of
commerce, and as a director of
the national bank, the commercial
interests of this city, have been by
him promoted in no small degree.
In the latter situation, the young
industrious merchant will drop a
tear to the loss of generous and
benevolent exertion in his favor.
Possessed of a strong mind, Mr.
Murray has always been looked
to as one of the first in his pro-
fession. His intuitive penetration
espied whatever was good and
promising, while his unclouded
prudence clipt the aspiring wings
of enterprize. As a commercial
character, he will be lamented by
every merchant. But if we would
appreciate his loss, we must en-
ter the abode of private affliction,
and mourn the deprivations which
rend the heart of his family. As

a husband, he was tender almost
without a parrallel. As a father
he was indulgent and affectionate,
at the same time that he directed
his offspring with an unbiassed
hand to the attainment of excel-
lence and virtue. As a master,
although he knew how to force
discipline, he was strikingly kind
and benevolent—as a fellow-citi-
zen, he was sincere, upright and
generous as the sun.

At Baltimore, in the twenty-
fourth year of his age, the Rev.
Leonard Cassell, pastor of the
methodist episcopal church, on
Fell's-Point. His remains were
interred in the methodist burying
ground in that city on Tuesday,
in the midst of a deeply affected
and weeping multitude. If bril-
liancy of talents, strength of mind,
soundness in divinity, uniformity
of conduct, supreme love to God,
and universal love to man, are
subjects of admiration and praise
—they all centered in this great
and good man.

In Worcester, on the 11th
July, Dr. John Green, aged forty-
five years. Perhaps there is no
character in society whose loss is
more sensibly felt, than a benevo-
lent and experienced physician.
In this respect, no portion of our
country has ever sustained a
greater calamity than the inhabi-
tants of Worcester and its vici-
nity. Descended from ancestors
who made the art of healing their
study, Dr. Green was easily ini-
tiated in the school of physic:
and from his infancy the natural

―333―

bias of his mind led to that pro-
fession which through life was
the sole object of his pursuit. To
be distinguished as a physician,
was but a secondary considera-
tion; his native humanity and be-
nevolence operated as a more
constant and ardent excitement
to perform with skill the duties
of his profession. With this
propensity, aided by a strong, in-
quisitive, and discriminating
mind, he rose to a pre-eminent
rank among the physicians of our
country. To this sentiment of
his worth, correctly derived from
witnessing his practice on others,
a more feeling tribute is added by
those who have experienced his
skill on themselves—for so mild
was his deportment, so soothing
were his manners, and so inde-
fatigable was his attention, that
he gained the unbounded confi-
dence of his patient, and the cure
was in a measure performed be-
fore any medicine was adminis-
tered.

To those who were acquainted
with him, the idea that some men
are born physicians, is not absurd
—for he professed not only an in-
nate adaptness to the profession,
but he was constitutionally form-
ed to bear its fatigues and priva-
tions. Few men of his age have
had such an extensive practice,
or endured a greater variety of
fatigue, or have been so often de-
prived of stated rest and refresh-
ment. It may here be pertinent
to remark, that in all the variety
of duty incident to his profession,
as was never known to yield to
the well intended proffer of that
kind of momentry refreshment,
so ready at command, and so often
presented to the weary and ex-
hausted physician.

In his intercourse with his
brethren of the profession, he was
ever “ready to communicate.”
His liberal mind disdained that
selfish policy which prompts
many to lock up the treasures of
their experience with a view to
keep others from rising to their
eminence.

The firmness and equanimity
of his mind which was so conspi-
cuous in all the exigencies of his
life, forsook him not in death.
With christian resignation he
“set his house in order,” knowing
that he “must die and not live.”
In the perfect possession of his
reason, with a mind calm and
collected, he spent the last mo-
ments of his life, performing its
last duties with the sublime feel-
ings of a christian. And when
by an examination of his own
pulse, he found that the cold hand
of death was upon him, he calmly
bid a last adieu, and placed him-
self in the most favorable posture
to an easy exit, expressing a hope
that his fortitude would save his
afflicted family and friends from
the distress of witnessing a dying
groan. In this manner, he whose
life had been spent, by his prac-
tice, in assisting man to live, and
by his example, how to live, in his
death taught them how to die!

At Bethlehem, in Northamp-
ton county, Pennsylvania, Mr.
John G. Jungmann, after an in-
disposition of about ten days, in
the eighty-ninth year of his age.
Mr. Jungmann was one of the old-
est inhabitants, and first settlers
of Bethlehem. He was born in
the Palatinate of Germany, and
came with his father to this coun-

―334―

country when about twelve years
old. They settled in Oley town-
ship, in the county of Berks, as
early as 1732. As some years
after an association of Moravians
settled in this state, and estab-
lished themselves in Bethlehem,
Mr. Jungmann joined them. He
went some time after as one of
the missionaries to disseminate
the gospel among the Indians in
Gnadenhutten, on the Mahony,
Susquehannah, and on the Dela-
ware, and removed with them in
1771 from the Delaware to the
Muskingum, by an invitation from
the Six Nations, to westward, and
established themselves in several
towns, from whence, during the
American revolutionary war, he
with all the missionaries were ta-
ken prisoners by the Indians, and
conducted to Fort Detroit, from
whence he settled on Lake Hu-
ron, where he continued till the
infirmities of his amiable spouse
made it necessary to quit those
rural scenes of a wilderness, when
they repaired with another family
by the lakes of Erie, Oneida,

Niagara, &c. &c. to Bethlehem,
where his spouse died in a few
years after, and he lived in a reti-
red station, enjoying the fruits of
a well spent life, in the midst of
a society of his dearest friends
and relations who knew how to
appreciate his virtues. If ever
the character of a christian were
properly delineated, the life, pro-
fessions, actions and transactions
of this venerable father constitute
an unwearied and consonant simi-
larity. His exit from this world
was truly christian like, and to the
last moment he retained his fa-
culties, smiling death in the face,
closing his eyes with his own
hands, and with a serenity in his
countenance he breathed his last,
without a struggle, which clearly
bespoke that he had lived in
friendship with his Saviour, by
whose mercy he obtained his
peace with his God, from whom
he joyfully expected the welcome
invitation of “well done thou good
and faithful servant, enter thou
into the joy of thy Lord.”