OR many years, Mr. Campbell had been quite easy in his worldly circumstances. The estate which he had received from his father-in-law, John Brown, soon after his first marriage, had at once relieved him from the res augusta domi under which, in common with his father and the family, he had so long and so patiently labored. Subsequently, from those habits of economy, which had been formed from necessity and were now continued from choice, his uncommon diligence in business and the marked success of Buffalo Seminary, his resources were still further increased. It was, however, the extensive sale of his various publications which afterward chiefly enlarged his income, enabling him to add considerably to his farm at an early period, when land was comparatively low. In process of time he also became possessed of unimproved lands in Ohio and Illinois, chiefly through his attempts to aid some of his friends, who were afterward unable to retain the property. The gradual increase in value of his landed estate, with the augmenting income from his works, rendered him finally quite independent, enabling him to aid his numerous relatives and friends, and to maintain his extensive household, as well as to exercise, as he loved to do, his generous and unfailing hospitality. [657] He possessed great sympathy for the poor and unfortunate, and was never known to refuse to give to any worthy object. Yet, as if mindful of the narrow circumstances of his earlier life, he was cautious in his distributions, and, preferring to retain control of his means, sought, in most cases, to aid his friends by lending rather than by giving. During his latter years, however, his benevolent feelings seemed to gain so much the preponderance that it was sometimes with difficulty he could be restrained from giving lavishly and injudiciously. The promotion of the cause of Christ seemed to be, with him, always the principal consideration; next to this was the interest he felt in his family, then his regard for his friends, and, finally, his love for his adopted country. For the first of these objects he was ever ready to sacrifice his fortune, his personal ease and comfort, and even his life, if necessary. With him it was the spread of the truth and the salvation of men first and always; and the means placed at his disposal were but the more grateful to his feelings as he was enabled thereby to subserve more efficiently these noble ends.

      During his closing years he presented to the American Christian Missionary Society his interest in the hymn-book from which he had long derived a considerable portion of his income.¹ By his will, carefully written by himself and signed on the 11th of March, 1862, and to which he added a codicil on the 31st of March, 1864, [658] he gave certain legacies to his grandchildren by his first wife, and distributed the remainder of his estate to Mrs. Campbell and his four surviving children, with the exception of ten thousand dollars given to Bethany College, together with his valuable library, and five thousand dollars appropriated to maintain the preaching of the gospel under the direction of the elders of the church at Bethany, where for so long a period he had himself faithfully and gratuitously labored.

      During the last years of his decline, which was as the slow going down of the sun amidst the glow of a pleasant summer eve, he manifested in his whole deportment not only his wonted amiability, but a more subdued and quiet gentleness, blended with the utmost courtesy, which proved how well he had learned the great lessons of the Christian life. Gratitude to God seemed to be ever his prevailing sentiment, and thanksgiving the natural language of his heart. He sympathized greatly, as he had always done, with children, and would often say of them: "Poor little pilgrims! they have the world's journey to make if they should live long enough." When the cries of one of them disturbed the company, he would say: "I am not partial to that kind of music. Poor little thing! pay attention to it. It claims its rights. There are rights of men, rights of women and baby rights." At meal-times, if his fascinating table-talk and the interest of the company in important themes seemed to protract too long the waiting of the younger members of the family, he would remark, with a pleasant smile in rising, "Gentlemen, we must give place to the next generation;" thus combining as usual with his playfulness a momentous and solemn thought. That condescension to inferiors which had been through life one of his most striking characteristics still shone forth [659] in all his daily intercourse. The most humble could approach him with entire confidence, nor would he ever, unless in the hastening crowd, pass any one, however lowly, without a pleasant notice or salutation. He had the largest and highest conceptions of the dignity and the destiny of humanity. His lofty ideas of God led him to take noble views of man, who was made in his image, while the unspeakable mysteries of the atonement and of man's redemption through the triumphs of the Son of God ever filled him with adoring wonder. "There is more value," he used to say, "in one human being than there is in a million of worlds such as we inhabit." Hence his love of a government where all enjoyed equal rights, and his dislike to clerical domination. "The true clergy," he would say, "are the Lord's lot or people. God made men, the priests make laymen. Man is the creature of God, a layman is the creature of priests." Hence it was, too, that he possessed a marked power of repressing all feelings of retaliation or revenge. His high conceptions of man, and his just appreciation of his present lost condition, led him to feel sympathy for the erring and enabled him to practice Christian forgiveness in its largest sense, and to manifest to the end of life, amidst all his collisions and conflicts, an abiding and ever-increasing philanthropy--a feeling which, with many, is unhappily impaired or lost through the influence of a long and sad experience of the world, so that the flower of human sympathy, which was so fair and so fragrant in youth, produces in the autumn of life but a sour and acrid fruit. His sincere desire to conform strictly to the precepts of Christ, led him at a very early period to form the habit of checking all feelings of resentment, and he was hence enabled to preserve always the kindest relations with his [660] neighbors, whose tempers and feelings in some cases, had been far from the most amiable. Thus, while he was engaged in teaching Buffalo Seminary, a Mr. C----d, who lived above him on the creek, became greatly offended because he had refused for want of room to admit his sons as pupils. Having occasion soon after to send to this gentleman, who was of a passionate and tyrannical disposition, for some money due him, he became quite enraged and told the messenger to say to Mr. Campbell that he must thenceforth keep his cattle at home, since if he found any of them in his fields he would have them killed. Mr. Campbell immediately summoned all his laborers, and forbidding them to retaliate in any way, enjoined upon them that if Mr. C----d's stock broke into his fields, as they often did in their wanderings about the creek, they must not hurt a hair upon their hides, but return them kindly to their own pastures. He then informed Mr. C----d of what he had done, lest he should imagine that his threat would induce retaliation. In the course of a day or two Mr. C----d came to see Mr. Campbell, and making an humble apology for his conduct, became at once a warm friend; and afterward returning from Missouri in impaired health, would often send for him to come and read the Scriptures and pray with him as he lingered upon the bed of sickness. Mr. Campbell's undeviating kindness and forbearance naturally gained the sincere esteem of all around him, nor could any one have enjoyed more of the confidence and even admiration of the community in which he lived for so many years than he did, though differing from many of them in religious views.

      The same feelings of regard for man, connected with his undoubting trust in the protection of Providence, [661] rendered him entirely opposed to carrying arms for self-defence, as was often done even by religious persons while traveling. Among various striking incidents from his own experience illustrative of his views of this matter, he used often to relate a rencontre which he had while traveling through Ohio on horseback:

      "I stopped," said he, "this side of Zanesville at a tavern to breakfast. After breakfast I observed a rough-looking man, who, having washed, ordered out his horse, and presently, turning to me, inquired which way I was traveling. I had conceived the idea that the man had arrived from the West and was going to the East, and accordingly answered him frankly by saying that I was going westward. 'Well, then,' said he, to my surprise and mortification, 'we will be fellow-travelers, for I am going West too.' I did not like this, of course, but was obliged to acquiesce, and I regretted it still more when, upon going out to our horses, I discovered that he carried, under his overcoat and around his body, a belt with a brace of pistols and a dirk.

      "We rode on for some time without much conversation, when at length, when we had reached a lonely part of the road and he was somewhat in advance, he very abruptly turned his horse, and, confronting me, asked if I thought it right to carry arms against robbers. 'Sir,' said I, 'the only weapon I ever carry is this,' at the same time pulling out of my side-pocket a New Testament and holding it toward him. He started suddenly, and recoiled as though I had presented a pistol; but, recovering himself and perceiving what it was, 'Sir,' said he,' do you suppose that would defend you against robbers?' 'Certainly,' said I, 'much better than I could defend myself. The Author of this book has promised to preserve those that trust in him, and I know he is much more able to protect me.' He remained silent for some time, hung down his head and seemed greatly disconcerted. At last he remarked, in a subdued tone, 'Well, sir, I am not sure but you are right, though, for my part, I am carrying arms [662] have been to the East with a drove of cattle, and am returning home and have a good deal of money with me, and I thought it necessary, as there are so many robberies now, to carry arms with me. But I do not know that I should like to kill a man, and I have been considering it in my mind all along. I profess to belong to the Christian Church myself, and I should not like to kill a man, even in self-defence.' He went on to tell me where he lived and many things about his business, but I did not like his manner and did not encourage much conversation. We traveled on till evening, when, as it was becoming dusk and I had not much confidence in my traveling companion, I felt very desirous of getting rid of him. Remembering that a friend lived at a short distance in the vicinity, I determined to go and spend the night with him, and as soon, accordingly, as we came to the road leading to my friend's house, without having previously mentioned my design, I suddenly turned to him and remarked, 'I wish to call to see an acquaintance in this neighborhood, and this is my road: I wish you good-night;' and, giving my horse the whip, was soon out of sight.

      "After all, I do not think he had any evil intentions; but one thing is evident, that my declaration that I was without arms induced him to throw aside reserve and communicate freely his affairs to me. It is the carrying of arms that creates the idea of the possession of money and invites attack, but the being without arms has the directly contrary effect, and I am persuaded that many persons lose their lives simply from carrying arms."

      Among his other qualities, Mr. Campbell was distinguished for his conversational powers. No one could be long in his company without being struck with some unexpected grouping of things present with things remote, and of isolated facts with some general principle. He therefore soon engrossed the attention of those around him, as from the commonest topics he quickly passed beyond the range of ordinary thought, bringing [663] together the most interesting relations of things, often with figures and illustrations most striking and appropriate. Hence few felt long disposed to take much part in the conversation, which often resulted in a monologue commanding the attention and delighting the minds of all. He was far, however, from manifesting any desire to monopolize the time. On the contrary, he would pause to hear a remark from the humblest, and, in this respect more like Brougham than Macaulay, continued to talk only because it was evidently desired. In his power of thus captivating his audience he resembled Coleridge, but his field of thought was different. The mind of Coleridge was eminently subjective in its tendencies--imaginative, poetic, analytical--surprising by its nice distinctions, its disentangling of blended truths, its far-reaching insight into the spiritual, its power of abstraction, its ability to resolve the complex into the more simple, and this again into conceptions yet more and more shadowy and attenuated. Mr. Campbell, on the other hand, was objective in his mental bias, disposed to dwell upon the actual and the positive, the realities of life and of revelation. His groups consisted not of fairy forms or of the dim but entrancing visions of fancy or the remote and impalpable phantasms of a sublimated philosophy. They were composed of well-defined and substantial facts; of essential truths; of the immutable things of Nature and of infallible Revelation, contemplated in all their grandeur, yet in all their direct, immediate and practical applications to the business of life and to the duties of religion.

      Notwithstanding his disposition to sallies of wit and humor in social intercourse, Mr. Campbell was one of the most reverential of men. Nothing could be more solemn, and at the same time more simple, than [664] thanksgivings and prayers in the family and elsewhere, and his petitions possessed a breadth, fullness and appositeness which at once exalted the thoughts and tended to sanctify the heart. Never in sacred things would he tolerate the slightest approach to levity, and failed not on all occasions to reprove profanity in the severest terms. In church and college discipline, also, though inclined to pity offenders, he was ever most just and strict in enforcing law as the means designed for correction and reformation. He would never for a moment compromise any principle of right, but with decisive and unyielding firmness, yet with the utmost kindness, would always insist upon the rigid observance of every regulation; while in the faithful discharge of duty he himself furnished a striking example in his punctual attendance at college in all kinds of weather and in the midst of the most pressing engagements.

      In Mr. Campbell's religious life the central thought was JESUS, THE SON OF GOD. No language can portray his lofty conceptions of the glory of Christ or of the grandeur of the spiritual system of which HE is the Alpha and the Omega. With such deep convictions as he possessed of the Divine Sonship and infinite dignity of Christ it was not possible that his theology should be erroneous, for since Christ was his Prophet, Priest and King, he acknowledged no other authority than his, sought no other sacrifice or mediator, and hearkened to no other teacher. Such was his sense of the boundless love of God in Christ that, though he possessed remarkable control over his emotional nature, the simple mention of it in his public addresses would often so affect him that for a moment or two his feelings would stop his utterance and render him unable to proceed. He recognized all power in heaven and in earth as resting [665] upon Christ, by whom he thought all kings should reign, and in whose name all judges should administer justice. It was his great aim, therefore, to bring men to submit to Christ, and to make the Church, his body, as far as practicable a just exponent of his will, abounding in good works and reproducing in every member the life of Christ on earth. Amidst the various errors of religious society which, as a Reformer, it became his duty to expose, his vigorous spiritual life never suffered him to lose his own keen relish for the bread of heaven and for the loving contemplation and appreciation of truth. Hence he was so far from pining or starving, as many do, among the husks of religious controversy, or acquiring a false or morbid appetite for the discovery of others' faults, that his inner man was renewed day by day, and he continued to the end of life to grow if possible more and more humble, patient and affectionate, and to exhibit in a still higher degree the gentle graces of the Spirit. During this period of partial release from the excessive toils of his busy life, memory might well cast a retrospective glance over the long years of the eventful past, and impartial judgment prepare to render its award. It was then that various questions would naturally arise touching his mission as a Reformer, his fidelity to the principles with which he set out, the past results of his labors and their future effect upon the world. To answer such questions could not have been difficult, nor in such a retrospect was it strange that emotions of gratitude should fill his heart.

      The nature of the reformation which he urged has already been presented in detail in the preceding pages. It may be here briefly remarked in general that it was an effort to heal the divisions of religious society and to escape from all the corruptions of the gospel by a direct [666] return to the faith and practice of the apostolic age. Beginning with the ministry of John the Baptist, and contemplating Jesus of Nazareth, manifested on the banks of the Jordan as the Son of God and the only Saviour of mankind, the development of guiding facts and principles moved forward with the evangelic history to the sacrifice of the Lamb of God on Calvary, and thence to his resurrection and glorious ascension to the heavens to appear in the presence of God for men. At this point it was some time before his commission to the apostles was understood, and before the institution of baptism was recovered in its primitive action and design, and still longer before the latter was practically and fully restored. Advancing still with the progress of the sacred history, the order, discipline and government of the churches were developed as these were established by the apostles under the dictation of the Holy Spirit, and finally the co-operation of the churches with each other in order to the conversion of the world and their own spiritual growth, was seen. The arrangements and instrumentalities to be employed for these purposes, as sanctioned by apostolic precept and precedent, were the last subjects of consideration in the reformatory movement directed by Mr. Campbell, as they were the last recorded matters of apostolic history. Beyond the sacred canon Mr. Campbell would not go. He utterly refused to take a single step into the darkness of the succeeding ages, in which all the purity of the gospel and all the peace of the Church had been engulfed.

      The direction of his progress was thus the reverse of that of Luther, who, beginning with an apostate Church, sought to correct one by one the errors of the ages that were past. The doctrinal iniquity of justification by [667] human merit first arrested his attention. He next denounced indulgences and questioned the papal power. He afterward abandoned the mass, and then renounced the celibacy of the priest, and finally defied openly the authority of Rome. It is true that in vindication of his reforms, which were mainly doctrinal, he appealed to the authority of Scripture, and for his justification placed the Scriptures in the hands of the people, but in these reforms he never fairly reached the apostolic age, nor did he ever fully restore the gospel to the world, either in its simple faith, its sacred institutions, its divine promises or its ecclesiastical organization. He nobly struggled backward through the corruption of the ages, but Mr. Campbell moved forward with the divine development of the truth as it was gradually unfolded and revealed to man. Luther hence ended with St. Augustine, but Mr. Campbell with the last AMEN of the last revelation that man is to receive before the day of final account.

      As to his fidelity to the spirit of the reformatory principles which he advocated and to the sacred truths he derived from the book of God, nothing could be more admirable or complete. The Word of Inspiration he made his only guide, and, faithful to his mission, claimed for himself no authority and usurped no power. Confining himself entirely within the limits of the divine Record, he labored to rescue men from priestly thraldom and to enable every one to comprehend and realize his religious privileges and duties. Never was there, through so long a life of incessant labor and opposition, a more true and consistent advocacy of principle, or a more uncompromising resistance to errors and extremes within, as well as to assaults and seductions from without. Like a balance-wheel, he regulated [668] the entire movement of the Reformation, and, on repeated occasions, preserved it from the disasters which were impending from the ambitions or the rashness of its friends. He was not a person of transient impulse or of subservient purpose. He was no dreamer, no mystic, no visionary theorist, but a man of earnest character devoted to a great and worthy object; a man of high and firm resolve, of deep convictions, of practical sagacity, dealing with the highest interests of mankind, self-consecrated to the most sacred duties, untiring, unfaltering, declining rest and worldly honor and promotion, and esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than any earthly treasure.² [669]

      As it respects the success attending his efforts, it had been truly remarkable. At this time he found himself amidst a religious community variously estimated as consisting of from four to six hundred thousand [670] members, gathered largely from the more intelligent classes of society, and possessing a greater uniformity of religious sentiment and a better knowledge of the Bible than usually exist in any religious party. Fully able to sustain itself against all opposition, and rapidly increasing in all directions, it was engaged everywhere in active efforts for the primitive faith and institutions of the gospel. Apart from these visible and tangible results, there had been, through the instrumentality of the truths developed and diffused abroad, an extensive and wonderful modification not only of the framework, but of the spirit of religious society. Despised at first, then hated, maligned and feared, Mr. Campbell had taught the partyism of the day to respect at least, if not to love, the hand that smote it, and had left upon the religious and educational endeavors of the age the impress of his power. The prejudiced and the ignorant have sometimes said that he failed of his purpose to overthrow sectarianism. So might it be said of Luther that he failed to overthrow the papacy, and in the same spirit of depreciation it might be said that neither Wickliffe nor Wesley nor Chalmers, nor any of the great reformers of the world, accomplished anything of importance. A new star added to the firmament, even though it be of the first magnitude, cannot change night into day, but it may serve to guide the wise to the Babe of Bethlehem. In the slow progress of human affairs time must be allowed for the operation of great principles and for the building up of mighty structures. Thus far the results of Mr. Campbell's labors have been, it must be confessed, most extensive and remarkable. As to the future--it has as yet no history.

      The objects proposed by Mr. Campbell were, like his own mind, vast and comprehensive, being nothing [671] less than the ultimate and complete overthrow not only of all false religion, but of infidelity, through the mighty power of the gospel of Christ, disengaged from all its corruptions and thoroughly carried out into practice in all its various applications to the salvation of men. The simplicity of the primitive faith and institutions, and the far-reaching principles of Christian union and fraternity developed by him were indeed too far in advance of the attainments of the religious world to be at first properly comprehended or appreciated. It could only be in the gradual progress of the revolution that their character could be perceived and to some extent understood. And this enlightenment must be progressive. Time, as it sheds its advancing sunlight upon the future pathway of mankind, reveals also more clearly, from the higher point attained, the road which had been unwittingly traversed in the dimness of the early dawning, and the things of the past are more clearly and fully comprehended in the knowledge of the present. The better views now obtaining as to the proper limits of religious thought, involving the essential distinction between faith and opinion; the diminished power of the priesthood; the overthrow of national religious establishments; the circulation of pure versions of the Scripture, and the advancing knowledge of their teachings, together with the unwonted activities of the Church in Christian enterprise and in promoting the spirit of Christian union and fraternity, are all indications of the happy change that is gradually taking place, and serve to place in a brighter light the nature and the tendencies of the lifelong labors of Mr. Campbell. And the period will doubtless arrive when the influence of these labors will be fully seen and acknowledged, and his prediction in the " Christian Baptist" (vol. v., p. 88) [672] be fully, as it is already in part, verified: "The time must come, if there be any truth in prophecy or any knowledge of it in the world, and that before many years, too, when those who have been forward in reforming modern Popery will be as much esteemed as those who reformed ancient Popery."

      When Mr. Campbell's last essay, referred to in the preceding chapter, appeared in the "Harbinger," he was quite unwell, and for some weeks was confined to the house. After he had to some extent recovered, he came over again to meeting and entered the pulpit. The manifest languor which had for many months attended his ministrations seemed for the time to have disappeared. His voice had resumed much of its former force and clearness, and his mind seemed unusually alert and vigorous. Taking up the first chapter of Ephesians, he delivered one of the most interesting and animated discourses of his life, dwelling in the most eloquent terms upon the "spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ," and upon the glorious termination of the divine purposes, when in the dispensation of the fullness of times, God would gather together in one all things in Christ, upon whose surpassing glory he expatiated with that peculiar delight which, in him, this theme constantly inspired. Such was the connection of his trains of thought, the grandeur of his conceptions and the unity of the whole that he seemed to have had restored to him for the occasion almost the entire vigor of his earlier days, nor was it unfitting that one who had so long held the highest rank as a preacher should thus terminate his ministerial labors, for this proved to be his last discourse.

      Soon afterward his cold was renewed, and during the month of January he was confined to the house. [673] Improving somewhat, and his presence being much desired at the ordination of two additional elders of the church at Bethany on the 11th of February, he came over in a buggy and assisted in the ceremony, presiding subsequently at the Lord's Table and making a few very appropriate remarks. He had even entered the pulpit, when he first came in, to deliver a discourse, but his voice seemed so feeble when he attempted to read out the opening hymn, that Elder Pendleton dissuaded him from attempting it, and called Dr. Richardson forward to address the congregation. He spoke from the third chapter of Second Peter upon the final dissolution of the material system and the divine promise of "a new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness." Mr. Campbell paid marked attention, and seemed much interested in the sublime revelations of this chapter, the subject of which proved to have been not inappropriate, as this was the last occasion on which he was able to meet with the Church on earth.

      From this time his weakness continued to increase gradually. He had some cough, some oppression and slight, irregular pains in the chest, a frequent and feverish pulse. At times, the presence of particular friends and the introduction of subjects in which he took a special interest would rouse him to much of his usual vivacity. He still continued to sit up and walk about during the day, and to take pleasure in the company of friends who called to see him or who were at the time his guests. Among these were Joseph Bryant, vigorous yet in advanced age, and John Taffe, his former companion in travel, who had been himself confined some days by illness. His daughter Decima and her husband, J. J. Barclay, who had shortly before returned from Cyprus, were also present, as well as his daughter [674] Virginia, who had arrived from Louisville during his illness. When, in conversation, Dr. Richardson spoke to him of the proposed meeting of the Baptists and Reformers at Richmond, Va., to confer upon the subject of union, he expressed great satisfaction in hearing of it. "There was never any sufficient reason," said he, "for a separation between us and the Baptists. We ought to have remained one people, and to have labored together to restore the primitive faith and practice." He hoped that much good would result from the proposed meeting, and spoke with animation of the glorious results which would ensue if the divisions of religious society were healed and the people of God were striving unitedly for the conversion of the world.

      His vivacity was, however, fitful and transient. A slow and settled fever consumed him, and he continued to grow weaker. His mouth was often parched, and he would express aloud his gratitude to God for the cold water of which he drank freely, and which, to his surprise, he relished more than at any period of his life. It was beautiful to see how gentle and calm and uncomplaining he was, what placidity and cheerfulness he maintained amidst his discomfort, and what serene resignation he manifested in view of the end, of whose approach he was perfectly conscious.

      "It seemed," said Professor Pendleton, who was much with him, "that the ideas of immortality were struggling with the agonies of death. Relaxing from the struggles of physical pain, a placid smile would play over his countenance, and then he would murmur, as if in soliloquy, 'I will ransom them from the hand of the grave; I will redeem them from death; O death, I will be thy plague! O grave, I will be thy destruction! repentance shall be hid from mine eyes.' He would frequently exclaim, 'What shall I do? what shall I do? [675] Whither shall I fly, but to Thee?' . . . The Scriptures proved his unfailing consolation. He quoted them with great point when he seemed to know or notice but little else. A few days before his death, upon some allusion to the creation, he quoted the first verse of the first chapter of Genesis in Hebrew, and then the first verse of the first chapter of John in Greek. His mind delighted to dwell upon the glorious character of Christ. He would look around upon the friends about his bedside and ask, 'What think ye of Christ?--his divine nature, his glorious mission, his kingly office--the Sovereign Ruler?'"

      Such touching expressions of his hope in God and his undoubting confidence in the divine promises were very frequent. Dr. Richardson offering him a glass of water, and speaking of the wisdom and goodness of God in bestowing upon man so great a blessing, he earnestly exclaimed, "How wonderful are thy works!" The doctor added, "In wisdom hast thou made them all." "In wisdom wonderful hast thou made them all," he repeated, with emphasis; and then passing by association to the cherished idea of his Redeemer, he continued, "HIS name shall be called WONDERFUL, Counselor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and power there shall be no end! upon the throne of David and upon his kingdom, to order it and to establish it with judgment and with justice from henceforth, even for ever. The zeal of the Lord of Hosts will perform this."

      The following minutes from a diary kept by his daughter-in-law, Mrs. Mary Ann Campbell, who, with many others, ministered most assiduously round the sick couch, will give a sufficiently-connected narrative of his last days: [676]

      "February 25th.--He had a bad night, resting very little in the latter part. . . . This is the first day he has not been able to be dressed and sit up part of the day. . . . After church, Professor W. K. P. and others came over, and, as the room was full, father thought it was for meeting, and spoke beautifully, repeating many, very many, of the choicest portions of Scripture. . . . He exhorted all to read and study the Bible, 'that Book of books, a library within itself,' with system and order, and to some point always, just as they ate and attended to their other duties daily. He spoke much on many elevating, soul-stirring and valuable subjects, especially in reference to the glories of a future life, etc., . . . spoke of the apostles and exhorted all to spread the Gospel. . . . Had prayers and worship early in the evening and late in the night, by father's request. All night he talked of God's goodness and power and wonderful works, and the Saviour, the Light of the world, the Sun of Righteousness, etc., etc.

      "26th.-- . . Many persons called all morning to see him just to shake hands, and he smiles so cheerfully and pleasantly, and tells all he is so glad to see them. Mr. Bryant, Mr. McKeever, Miss Mary Henderson and Dr. Campbell remained nearly all day. Father remained wakeful but quiet most of the evening. Many persons came over to offer their services for the night. . . . Father talked some after dark. Through all his sickness he never forgets to say pleasant things to those around him, and particularly to mother. He misses her all the time when she is out of the room, and last night, when she came in from taking a nap, he kissed her hand and was so glad to have her beside him, and said: 'Why, mother, I was just about to advertise you to find out your whereabouts.' As he said this his smile was so natural and cheerful! Oh the beautiful hymns and parts of Scripture he is constantly repeating, and praising God for all his mercies!

      "Feb. 27th.-- . . . After seven, father had been talking some, and when mother leaned over him and asked him, 'Are you in pain, dear?' he said, 'No, no, only sorry for you, sorry for you.'. . . Father was better after taking some tea [677] and toast. All day long he has been quiet, not talking much and dozing often. . . . He rested badly first part of the night--was wakeful and restless and feverish. . . . Mr. Loos attended to worship, and father said Amen very distinctly.

      "Wednesday, Feb. 28th.--Mother came in and told me how beautifully father had just been talking to her about heavenly things. He seems weaker than ever before. . . . Many persons came in this evening. Mr. Jabez Hall and Willie and I sat up. Father was much better than ever since his sickness--slept well, took his medicine and nourishment regularly. . . .

      "March 1st, Thursday.--Father has been much better, and we all have strong hopes that if he continues to expectorate freely as today and last night, he may get up and live some time yet. . . . He has not talked much, but seems very rational and better." These hopes of amendment, however, were not realized, though there was not much change on Friday and Saturday, and the diary proceeds:

      "Sunday, 4th March.--About twelve o'clock last night he began to get restless, and his consciousness rapidly failed. . . . This is a lovely morning, though a little chilly. He remained about the same all day. . . . Many persons came and went."

      During the day he continued gradually to sink, breathing with difficulty and with feeble pulse, but as evening drew on his respiration became easier, and at fifteen minutes before twelve, just as the Lord's day, in which he had always so greatly delighted, was about to close, he, too, finished his course and gently expired.

      Not only the laborious life, but the closing days, of Alexander Campbell bear a striking resemblance to those of Wesley. There was the same conscientious economy of time, the same extended journeying and the same earnest desire to labor to the last; and at the close the same gradual wearing out of the system under a slow and settled fever, and the same unaffected [678] and simple trust in God. Nor were the circumstance attending their respective funerals unlike. In Wesley's case great crowds attended to see the corpse as it lay in state in the chapel, and, for fear of accident, it was thought best to hasten the time of the funeral, at which Mr. Richardson, who had been one of his preachers for about thirty years, performed the services, during which the deepest feeling was manifested by the audience. In like manner, a great concourse attended to take a last look at the venerable form of Mr. Campbell and to attend his burial. A number came from Louisville, from Pittsburg, Cincinnati and other distant parts of the country, and multitudes assembled from the country around, together with the professors and students of the college. After singing the hymn commencing, "We've no continuing city here," and prayer by Professor Loos, Dr. Richardson, at the request of the family, delivered an address to the deeply-affected assembly. The procession was then formed and moved forward to the cemetery. There, where so many dear ones had already been interred, the body was laid in the grave, amidst the earthly scenes which the departed one had so much loved, and amidst which so many of his labors had been accomplished. In the selection of his place of burial in this elevated and beautiful spot he had evinced his admiration of the works of God and his delight in the beauties of nature. It was as though he had said, in the very words of Ossian, "Oh lay me, ye that see the light, near some rock of my hills! Let the thick hazels be around, let the rustling oak be near; green be the place of my rest. Let the sound of the distant torrent be heard." Yet were such human feelings and associations secondary ever with him to the divine hope he cherished of a [679] better and a brighter world, and to the unshaken confidence with which he ever rested upon the promises: "Thy dead ones shall live, together with my dead body shall they arise. Awake and sing, ye that dwell in the dust, for thy dew is as the dew of herbs, and the earth shall cast out the dead." "And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed away."

[MAC2 657-680]