years, the resort of many who wished to converse with Mr. Eastburn on the subject of religion generally, or on the state of their own souls in particular. He conversed and laboured at the same time; and the observations he made, and the advice he gave, in these circumstances, were, in many instances, highly useful.

He was always fond of children, and seldom failed to gain their affection and confidence in return. From a school almost adjoining his shop, he was daily resorted to by a number of these youthful visitants, whom he supplied with little blocks, the remnants of the wood in which he wrought; and sometimes permitted them to build their tiny fabrics on the floor of his shop, while he watched an opportunity to say something to them, which he hoped they might remember with advantage. The following short dialogue between him and the writer's eldest son, then a child about six years old, may serve as a specimen of his conversations on these occasions— "Mr. E. Well Robert, you seem very busy-If you live, what business do you expect to follow? what do you expect to be? Robert. Why Mr. Eastburn, you know what my Pa is? Mr. E. Yes, your Pa is a minister of the gospel. R. Well, I intend to be a minister too. Mr. E. Ah, my dear, if you intend to be a minister, you must first be a good man. Remember that; for you had better be a chimney-sweeper, than a minister of the gospel, if you are not a good man." It is known that a number of individuals of unquestionable piety, now living, attribute their first religious impressions to the affectionate admonitions and instructions which in their childhood, or early youth, they received from this faithful servant of the Lord Jesus. His earnest prayers were doubtless constantly offered, in behalf of those who received his counsels; and "the fervent and effectual prayer of a righteous man availeth much."

After the close of the revolutionary war in 1783, till the establishment of the federal government of the United States in 1788, and, in a degree, for several years afterwards, there was a most deplorable stagnation of almost every kind of business. The produce of the soil was indeed abundant, but there was scarcely any foreign com

merce; and in consequence of this, and the circulation of a paper currency, the precious metals had almost entirely disappeared-they had either left the country, or were hoarded by a few individuals. For the wares of mechanics, especially, the demand was very small, and the price unusually low. Mr. Eastburn's circumstances, in common with those of many others, became, from this cause, much straitened. But another cause increased his embarrassment. He had borrowed money to purchase a lot of ground, and on it had erected the house in which he lived till the time of his decease. The labour of building the house had, to a considerable extent, been performed by his own hands. But the lot was not paid for; and although his creditor never pressed him for the debt, yet he dreaded its increase; and to prevent the accumulation of interest, and to support a wife, now exceedingly infirm, and his son, then a boy, exertions and management, of no ordinary kind, were required. The writer well recollects the sympathy which he felt for this exemplary man, in witnessing the incessant labors, pursued both early and late, by which he endeavored to avoid debt, and to afford to a valetudinary wife the accommodations which she needed, and which he never suffered her to want. This struggle with adverse circumstances was not abated, till it terminated in complete success. It is believed that his debt, if not annually diminished, was always kept stationary, till it was ultimately cancelled, in the manner that will presently appear. In the mean time, the debtor, with an humble but cheerful trust in the providence of God, seized every opportunity that offered, to serve the Saviour whom he loved, and to engage in those spiritual exercises in which he delighted. Unless detained in his shop to prepare a coffin that was urgently demanded, he never failed to attend a weekly religious service of the congregation to which he belonged, and which was celebrated in a private dwelling, as well as every public service performed in the church, on the evenings of secular days. He often, also, after the fatigues of the day and a part of the evening, visited, conversed, and prayed with the sick.

In the manner above described, Mr. Eastburn passed

his life, till the occurrence of the memorable pestilence, which spread terror and desolation through the city of Philadelphia, in the year 1793. On that occasion, the city was soon abandoned by a large majority of its inhabitants; but the senior pastor of the Second Presbyterian church, with the clerk and sexton, remained at their posts. The then junior pastor of that church, the writer of these memoirs, having, with his wife, suffered among the first subjects of the disease, and while yet in a state of imperfect convalescence, was called by a singular providence into the country, where he remained, with his family, till the calamity had subsided. But never, while memory remains, can he forget the distress of that awful period. Many of his dearest friends and most esteemed parishioners were hurried to the grave. Among the rest, his venerated and beloved colleague, with his wife, two of his children, and an amiable daughter-in-law, became the victims of this awful scourge. Mr. Eastburn did not escape a severe attack of the prevailing pestilence; but his life was spared-spared in rich mercy, not only to those to whom his after ministrations in the gospel were so eminently blessed, but to many who, during the pestilence, were destitute of every other friend and helper. The family of his aged, endeared, and deeply afflicted pastor, received his most assiduous attentions. To them, as a relict of that family, still in life, has recently and with much emphasis expressed it to the writer, "he was like a good angel." He visited them daily, to inquire after the state of their health, or more commonly the state of their illness; to take charge of their concerns, and to provide for their wants, as if they all had been his own-his own indeed they were, for affection and sympathy made them such. As one after another of this mourning family fell before the destroyer, Mr. E. was still present, to see that the corpse was decently laid out, the coffin prepared, and the funeral rites performed, with all the respect which the urgency of the times would permit. Such were his attentions and exertions, unabated and undismayed by disease and death, which stalked on every side, till, as the concluding part of his sad employment, he deposited in the house appointed for all living,

the mortal remains of his beloved pastor, and those of his wife.

It appears from the diary of Dr. Sproat, a part of which has been published, that for a considerable length of time after the general prevalence of the yellow fever, and the flight of the citizens, he met a few of the pious people of his charge who remained in the city, both on the sabbath and on some other occasions. On all these occasions, without its being testified particularly to the memorialist, he has no doubt that Mr. Eastburn took a leading part; and also, in rendering, in a more private way, every service, both of a spiritual and temporal kind, to the sick and the dying. His own attack was before the disease had attained its widest spread; his recovery was speedy and perfect; and he afterwards retained his health, till health was restored to the city at large. *

*The following extract from the writer's printed sermon on the death of Dr. Sproat, with the accompanying notes, will serve to illustrate some of the facts referred to in this part of the memoir: "The painful infirmities of age, under which Dr. Sproat laboured for a considerable time before his death, he bore with a cheerful fortitude. Since the twenty-third day of August last, he had been looking for death, and ripening for it with uncommon speed. On that day he completed half a century of years in the character of an ordained minister of the gospel; and thenceforward, to the time of his death, the larger portion of his waking hours were spent in the immediate acts of devotion, or of devout meditations and aspirations of soul.(*) He endured the severe distress which was inflicted on his family without the least repining.(f) At the funeral of a dear son he might with peculiar propriety use the language, for he eminently possessed the spirit of Job.(†)

"His death was easy, and he was rational to the last. A short time before he expired, and after he had lost the power of speech, being asked if he felt the support of religion, he answered by the signal of lifting up his hands and his eyes to heaven.

(*) "This is confirmed not only by the observation and testimony of those who were most about him, but by what appears in his own diary. This diary exhibits one of the most instructing views of the exercises and temper of a Christian, especially when under affliction, that perhaps has ever been

seen.

(†) "His eldest son with his wife, and his youngest daughter, died within the space of a month. The doctor himself, and Mrs. Sproat, were added to

the number in less than a month afterwards.

() "Enfeebled and trembling with age, the Dr. followed the corpse of his son to the grave, and after it was deposited, leaning on his staff, he pronounced only these words, The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord.' Amen!

D

Mr. Eastburn passed through three other seasons of desolating pestilence, which occurred in Philadelphia, in the successive years of 1797, 1798, and 1799. Those with which the city was visited in 1802 and 1803, were comparatively slight and partial. Of these, that of 1798 was not less fatal and terrific than the one of 1793, of which we have taken a more particular notice. In 1798, Mr. E. suffered more severely from the prevalent malignant fever, than he had done five years before-it brought him in appearance to the verge of the grave. The faithful and vigilant nursing of his infirm wife, was the principal means, "nder the divine blessing, of preserving his valuable life. He had in this illness a very earnest desire to depart, and to be with his Saviour. "But I could not obtain my discharge," was the language which he used, in speaking to the writer of his feelings and views at this period; and this language carried in it more meaning than he could have thought of at that time. He was not discharged," because he had yet to render services, in the church militant, of the most important kind. He had not yet had an opportunity to sound the gospel trumpet, in that public manner in which he afterwards did, and for which hundreds, perhaps thousands, will bless God to all eternity.

The providential dealings of the Father of mercies with his dear children, are often such as they do not understand at the time; and which astonish them on the review. The exertions, and anxieties, and privations,

"The respect which was shown to his remains, at a time which precluded it in almost every other instance, was a proof of the high esteem in which he was held."(*)

(*)" During the late distressing scenes which were witnessed in this city, the almost universal mode of conveying a corpse to the grave was in a hearse or a cart; and the attendants consisted only of the person who drove the carriage, the grave-digger, or a negro hired for the purpose, and, in a few instances, two or three mourning friends. But in the case of Dr. Sproat there was a procession and bearers of the dead, which, as it was more striking to the beholders, in the circumstances in which it happened, than the most splendid funeral that perhaps the city ever produced, so it was a much stronger proof of the affection which was felt for the deceased, than the greatest parade, in ordinary times, can possibly be. The pious people who had met at the church for prayer, formed a procession of about fifty persons, and some religious negroes voluntarily offered themselves to carry the bier."