to whom he gave instruction in his usual appropriate and faithful manner.

In the removal of Mr. Smalley, he met with a trial which he did not anticipate. Having committed to him the oversight of his flock, and beheld with pleasure the attachment of the people to him, and his increased usefulness among them, he desired and expected to leave them under his ministry when he should take his departure from the world. But a righteous Providence had decreed that he should again behold his people as sheep without a shepherd. This event, although severely trying to his feelings, he met with a degree of candor and submission worthy of a man who had long contemplated the instability of all human affairs, and acquired the habit of putting his trust in God alone. The change gave a new exhibition to the strength of his attachment to his people, and the interest he felt in their welfare. He again united his efforts with those of his people to procure the re-settlement of the ministry among them. On the fifteenth of November, 1839, the church gave the Rev. Tertius D. Southworth an invitation to become their pastor. This step was in accordance with the wishes of Dr. Emmons. The parish subsequently concurred with the church in this invitation, and on the 23rd of January, 1839, Mr. Southworth was installed. Dr. Emmons was requested, on this occasion, to give the charge, but declined on account of his great age. Almost ten years had gone over his head since the ordination of his first colleague, and brought with them the debilitating influence of extreme old age. He was able, however, to attend the exercises of the occasion, and to enjoy in a good degree the visit which he then received from a large number of his clerical and other friends.

His connection with Mr. Southworth continued until his death, and like that with Mr. Smalley, proved to be one of uninterrupted harmony. Mr. Southworth was happily disappointed in the character of the man. "I had received," said he," the impression that he was austere, and arrogant; and of course, the legitimate conclusion was, that he would be a most uncomfortable colleague. But at my first introduction to him, his complaisance, and the kind and affable reception which he offered me, at once dispelled my false and groundless impression, so contrary to his nature and dishonorable to his charac

ter.

From that time to the present, there has been no occasion to alter my favorable opinion of him. He never manifested the least inclination to dictate to me in my course, leaving me entirely unshackled and free. But his counsel, he was ever ready to impart. This was always wise, disinterested and seasonable. Gratitude to his memory demands of me an 14*

VOL. I.

acknowledgment of many instances of advice peculiarly timely and very advantageous to me. As a counsellor he was to me inestimable. In this respect, I sensibly feel my need of him, and therefore sincerely and continually lament his death. He never gave me the slightest trouble by interfering with my arrangements. As he venerated the sacerdotal office, he always treated me with the greatest respect on account of it. He uniformly manifested towards me, the sincerest affection, kindness and friendship. During my connection with him, his conduct was such as to command my highest respect, my deepest veneration, my sincere and ardent love. I never saw the man,-my own reverend father excepted,-whom I so much revered and loved. In fine, Dr. Emmons was such an one as a modest, humble man, who is willing to be outshone by the brightness of a sun of almost unrivalled glory, would wish for a senior colleague. At the feet of such an one, it was delightful to sit and listen to the gracious words that proceeded out of his mouth, to the great things of God's law which he unfolded."

In every degree of prosperity which attended the church and society under the ministry of each of his successors, he heartily rejoiced. Nothing seemed to raise his spirits and to gladden his heart so much as to find that his colleagues were discharging the duties of their high vocation with ability and faithfulness, and in this way gaining the affections and confidence of their people. On the other hand, the least symptoms of disaffection toward their minister, or want of confidence in him among the people, gave him great uneasiness. From the time of his retirement from the duties of his office, he uniformly declined taking any part in the public services of the sanctuary, or even in any private, religious meeting. His principal reason for this was, his determination never to be in the way of his successor, or to impose his services upon the people after they had become tired of them. But, although he took no part in any public service and endeavored by every means in his power to turn the hearts of his people to his successor; he did not cease to cherish the same strong attachment to the people, and the same lively interest in their welfare, which he had felt before. After he had done preaching, he acted the part of a good church member, and a good parishioner. He was always ready to do his part to sustain the institutions of religion. He was always, as long as he had strength to get there, found in the house of God on the Sabbath. He always endeavored to encourage the heart, and to strengthen the hands of his minister. He always sought, as well as desired, the union, the peace, and the prosperity of his parish. In a sermon preached the Sabbath after his interment, Mr. Southworth thus notices

his attachment to his people. "His idol, if he had one, was his parish. It was the object of his greatest care, and tenderest solicitude. Even to his last days, he manifested the greatest concern for your welfare, watching for you with godly jealousy; often repeating, I do love Franklin,' and offering up for you some of his latest prayers."

CHAPTER VII.

HIS DOMESTIC CHARACTER. DEATH OF HIS CHILDREN. DEATH OF HIS SECOND WIFE. HIS LAST MARRIAGE.

DR. EMMONS was ardently attached to his family. He was constitutionally a warm hearted and social man, and in spite of his deep speculations and studious habits, naturally became strongly attached to those friends with whom he was habitually and intimately associated. Of the strength of his attachments no one can doubt, who reads the record which he has made of his feelings when his first wife and children were taken from him. This early and sore bereavement probably did serve in some measure to moderate all his earthly attachments. It may have been designed to make him realize, more fully than before, the guilt and danger of loving the creature more than the Creator, or of depending upon any arm of flesh as the means of his support and happiness. It seems to have produced this important effect. In reference to this event of divine providence he says, "I learned some things which I shall never forget, and for which I shall have reason always to bless God. I learned to moderate my expectations from the world, and especially from the enjoyment of children and earthly friends. I have scarcely ever thought of my present wife and children without reflecting upon their mortality, and realizing the danger of being bereaved of them. And I have never indulged such high hopes concerning my present family, as I presumptuously indulged with respect to the family I have laid in the dust." He was not, however, less sincerely or truly attached to his last family than to the first. He was a kind husband and father, and a constant, faithful friend. Those who have resided in his family, and others who have occasionally visited there, know what cordiality prevailed in this domestic circle, and

what delightful intercourse was maintained among its members. But his attachment to his family bore the marks of sanctified affection. His love to them was evidently subordinate to his love of Christ. He always manifested a deep and lively interest in their welfare; but his interest in the cause of Christ was evidently greater than that which he took in any of his friends. It gave him great pleasure to gratify the wishes of his children. But they all knew that they could never be indulged in any thing which was contrary to the will of God.

Some who have formed their opinion of his character by looking at a few of the sternest features of his theology, have supposed that he must be cold, distant and unfeeling in his intercourse with his family and friends. But nothing is farther from the truth. He allowed his children to spend a little time with him every day in his study, when he would enter as fully as possible into their feelings; sometimes uniting with them in their childish sports, sometimes in conversing with them upon such topics as they chose to introduce, sometimes in telling them amusing anecdotes, and at others in discussing some more weighty and important topics. He always noticed what pleased them, took an interest in their companions, read their books, made remarks upon what they read, and gave them advice in regard to the best means of their improvement. He frequently made himself a companion for his children; and such was his familiarity with them, that they would go to him not only with their more important concerns, but frequently with the little affairs with which they amused themselves. If they were innocent amusements, they knew that he would enjoy them as well as they.

He never acted as an instructer to his children to any extent in their literary pursuits, but intrusted this principally to others. But to their religious instruction he paid particular and personal attention. It was his practice to take them alone, and converse with them freely upon their character and condition as sinners, and upon the necessity and obligation of their immediate repentance and acceptance of Christ. This he did with them all from their early childhood, until they arrived at adult years. He kept a watchful eye over all that resided in his house, and sought both their temporal and spiritual good. A number of those who have lived in his family, now acknowledge his faithful conversation with them in private as the means of their conversion. Others mention their preservation from destructive error as the effect of the same instrumentality.

The leisure which he enjoyed in his old age, rendered him in some respects more companionable than he was in the midst of the severe labors of his earlier years. He was more famil

iar with his grand-children than he ever was with his children. And so companionable and interesting did he make himself to them, that they calculated as much upon seeing him as each other, and enjoyed his society as highly as they did that of their young associates. He insisted upon frequent visits from those who were near him, and with those who were at a distance, he sometimes corresponded. From one of these, the following extracts from several letters addressed to her, and her sister now deceased, have been received. They are thrown into his Memoir as specimens of the artlessness, good sense, and genuine affection, which this venerable patriarch was accustomed to manifest towards his descendants, when nearly ninety years of age. They are arranged in the order in which they were written, accompanied with a word of explanation by her to whom the greater part of them were addressed.

"The first letter I received from my dear grand-father, was in answer to one I wrote to him requesting some good advice; part of it I will copy:

"FRANKLIN, MARCH 17, 1830.

"I wish I were able to give you that good advice which you request me to give. But however, I will do as well as I can. In the first place I advise you to regard the advice, instructions, and even reproofs, of your dear mother and excellent grand-mother. They have a right to advise, instruct and admonish you; and you are under the most endearing obligations to regard their lessons of wisdom and piety. You have been devoted to God, whose you are and whom you are bound to serve in childhood, in youth, and through every period of your life and existence. Read the Bible every day, and make it your constant and infallible guide. 'Acknowledge God in all your ways, and he will direct your paths.' True piety spreads a brighter glory around all the native beauties and acquired accomplishments in the female character than gold, or pearls, or costly array. Dress neatly and elegantly, but not extravagantly and vainly. Form no intimacy with the unprincipled and vicious. Make as many friends as you can without flattery or deception; but make very few confidants. If any become your causeless enemies, forgive and watch them. Make no display of your talents or attainments; for every one will clearly see, admire, and acknowledge them, so long as you cover them with the beautiful vail of modesty. I wish to keep up our mutual correspondence. It may not be unprofitable to you, and it will certainly be amusing and gratifying to your aged, lonely, and almost forgotten grand-father.

me.

66

N. EMMONS."

FRANKLIN, MAY 5, 1830. "My Dear —: I am glad you are so able and ready to write to I am very fond of your letters and examine them very criti