ually exhibited in the deportment and addresses of a christian pastor before the eyes and the minds of his flock, must be supposed more directly to impress the heart and conscience, than the most elaborate harangues on the odiousness of vice and the loveliness of virtue, when the declaimer's heart appears to have no participation in his subject.

When Mr. Fuller ascended the pulpit, a solemn gravity and becoming dignity dignity commanded, while a serene and pleasant countenance invited and fixed attention. His air, manner, and address, were well adapted to the sacred functions of his office.

He made no pretensions to, nor did he affect, any elegance of style, or arts of oratory. His "speech and his preaching were not with enticing words of man's wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power." Not that his style and manner had any thing low, or mean, or vulgar, in them. He was no contemptible reasoner or pleader when managing the cause of his divine Master, and urging the treaty of peace and reconciliation on the choice and acceptance of the sinner. His pulpit oratory was a bove mediocrity. His subjects were judiciously arranged and handled; and method and order duly observed. But he wished and determined to know and to teach nothing among his fellow sinners to whom he preached, "save Jesus Christ and him crucified." The sum and substance of all his preaching was the mediatorial plan of redemption and salvation, considered in all its connexions, relations and bearings, from its first foundation laid in the eternal counsels of Heaven, to its final consummation in the glorification of all the "ransomed of the Lord," and the final

confusion and perdition of all the enemies of God, his kingdom and government. This plan presupposes and necessarily involves in it the fall of man-the consequent total depravity and ruin of his whole race-the sovereign election of grace of some to holiness and happiness-the necessity of regeneration by the immediate operations of the Holy Spirit— justification by faith, through the imputed righteousness of the Redeemer, and the final perseverance of the saints, who, according to the divine promise," are kept by the mighty power of God, through faith, unto eternal salvation." These doctrines, with their practical uses, constituted the bones and sinews of all Elder Fuller's sermons. Rarely did he preach, on whatever occasion it might be, without bringing into view, and insisting on some one or more of these fundamental, interesting truths; and he held to the same view and construction of them, and explained them in the same light and manner, as did Calvin, and the first reformers, and as they are held up in the standards of orthodoxy in the protestant churches.

It ought to have been before noted, than when Mr. F. first devoted himself to the service of Christ's church, he employed much of his time in a careful and prayerful examination of the holy Scriptures, and perusal of such commentators on them as, in his opinion, best entered into their true spirit and meaning; and he ever after was a studious man, and his studies were solely confined to acquiring knowledge in his own profession. Among many others, the British Andrew Fuller, and our New-England Edwards and Hopkins, were his favourite authors; and though, in articles of faith, he called no man on earth, father or master, yet,

from the study of his Bible and his favourite authors, he had thoroughly digested a system of divinity, which he believed to be rational, consistent, and harmonious in all its parts; and which he was very capable of explaining and defending.

It is not unreasonable to suppose, nor foreign here to mention, that the particular striking views which he had of the divine character and law,—of Christ, and his infinite atonement, of sin and holiness, and of himself as a sinner, at that ever memorable hour, when it pleased a sovereign God to take the scales from his eyes and the veil from his heart, and to reveal his Son Jesus in him, might impart a kind of stamp and colouring to all his discourses on subjects of experimental religion; and such were mostly all his discourses.

He well knew how to describe the sinner under a law work, awakened to an alarming sight and sense of his perishing condition as a sinner, condemned by the law of God to eternal sufferings, helpless, hopeless, yet still maintaining the opposition and enmity of his heart to God, his law and government. He dared to assert that the sinner in these circumstances, must be brought cordially to bow to the sovereignty of Jehovah, to approve of his law as holy, just, and good; and in the language of Scripture, "to accept of the punishment of his iniquities" before, and in order to, receiving Jesus Christ, in his true character and on his own terms. But perhaps he never appeared to others, or felt himself more in his element, than when exhibiting to sinners, slain by the law, a precious Christ, his precious atonement and righteousness, and a precious salvation; or when displaying these precious objects, to the increasing love and admiration

ofall the friends and subjects of free grace. Free grace was his delightful and darling theme; he loved to turn off all glory from the creature, and to ascribe, "Blessing and honour, and glory and power, to him that sitteth on the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever" "Salvation by grace, through faith, and that not of the creature, but the gift of God," was an essential part of his system.

Still he was no antinomian-in his discourses on the subject, he cautiously and strictly guarded against the abuse and perversion of the doctrines of grace to the purposes of licentiousness, and severely reprobated all pretensions to experimental religion where the life and conversation were habitually irregular and disorderly. Having laid the foundation and commencement of all true religion in regeneration, supreme love to God, repentance and faith, he built thereon the superstructure of good works; and was as strenuous an advocate for gospel morality as for gospel grace.

Elder Fuller did not limit his duties as a pastor to the walls of the meeting house, nor to the first day of the week; he had something to do in the service of his blessed Master every day; he taught his people "from house to house" as well as in publick. His pastoral visits engrossed a great share of his time; and, perhaps, he did as much good by the advice, admouition and counsel which he administered in private, as by his publick addresses.

His visits were not formal and ceremonious, for though he was no sour ascetic, and did not refuse, occasionally, to mingle in society innocently cheerful, yet his conversation always savoured of religion, and, in all companies, and on all occasions, he studied to

advance something which might minister "grace and godly edifying" to those who heard him. He had a happy talent of introducing religious subjects, and a facility of improving the occurrences of the day to that purpose. You could hardly have met with him, however short the interview, without being reminded by some hint, either more directly or indirectly given, "that you were a probationer for eternity;" or of some other serious and important religious truth.

He was particularly assiduous in visiting those of his flock, who were in affliction and trouble, either of body or mind. On such occasions, his first inquiry, was, to investigate the spiritual state of the afflicted; whether it were that of carnal security in sin, or agonizing under a sense of guilt, and apprehension of divine wrath, or enjoying a good hope through grace. He was particular and faithful in applying appropriate counsel and advice to each, as their cases severally required.

Those of the people of his late charge, who may peruse this Memoir, will be reminded, that the walls of their houses, are, and will be, witnesses of the many devout and fervent prayers, there offered, and the solemn counsels and admonitions, there administered, by their lately deceased pastor; witnesses for him, of his faithfulness-witnesses against them, if they neglect religion, and continue to cast off fear and restrain prayer before God."

Though Elder Fuller sometimes thought that he met with discouragements in the prosecution of the work of the ministry, and was ready at times, to com

plain that he "laboured in vain and spent his strength for nought,' yet there is great reason to believe that he was instrumental of doing much good in the course of his ministry. He had the happiness and satisfaction sometimes of "seeing the pleasure of the Lord evidently prospering in his hands," at sundry seasons during his ministry, there was, at least, a partial shower of divine influence shed down upon his congregation, and many were added to the church. There are not a few in Warren and its vicinity, who own him as their spiritual father. These, with many others,* who have sat under his ministrations with profit and delight, will long cherish an affectionate remembrance of their dear departed, faithful minister.

Elder Fuller never enjoyed a high degree of health. It may be presumed, that after becoming a preacher, his close application of mind to study, his fatiguing journies, his frequent and laborious public speaking, altogether, had a tendency to weaken and impair a constitution, naturally delicate, and to hasten on those decays which finally sunk him in his grave.

For several of the last years of his life he was subject to frequent returns of his bodily complaints which sometimes prevented his attendance on the duties of the sanctuary, though oftentimes he appeared there when pale, emaciated form, his sickly countenance, his feeble, tottering steps and faltering voice, indicated a bed of repose as a more suitable place for him than the floor of a meeting-house.

his

For years before he died he entertained the sentiment that he

had but a little time longer to tarry in this world, and that "the time of his departure was at hand." Doubtless he lived years beyond what was once his assured expectation. He was accustomed to speak of his own approaching dissolution with great calmness and composure of mind, though always with becoming solemnity; nor did he always on these occasions utter the strong language of assurance. Sometimes the most he said was, "that he entertained a humble hope, through the infinite mercy of God, in Christ Jesus, that he should not be finally a cast-away."

The concern which seemed to lie heaviest on his heart was for the welfare of Zion, and particularly for the flock of Christ, with which he had been so long and happily united in communion in the word and ordinances. He was greatly desirous that they should be provided with an able minister of the New Testament after his decease. Nay, he wished that a successor, such an one as the great Head of the church should qualify, own and bless, might be designated before his death.

He "preferred Jerusalem to his chief joy," and was more solicitous that the flock of Christ should be led by skilful hands, and fed with "that bread which came down from heaven," and which "endureth unto everlasting life," than that his own connections after the flesh should be provided for in this world.

But though he had been declining and lingering and dying. for years before, yet his death, when it came, was rather sudden. He had been so well in health as to attend public worship on Lord's day, January 23d, and on the following Tuesday, to visit a family at the distance of 5 or 6 miles, and on the evening of the Monday succeeding he expired.

In the night, after his return from the visit above mentioned, he was seized with the most acute and distressing pains in every part of his mortal system, and the next morning he was subjected to the paroxisms of a violent, inflammatory fever, which disor dered his intellects for the next twenty four hours, when the inflammatory symptoms abated, and he recovered his rational faculties, which he retained to his last hour.

Though he remained in a state of extreme debility, he was yet able, with a feeble, faltering voice, to bear his dying testimony to the divine reality and excellence of that religion which he had so long professed, and so zealously preached, avowing it to be the anchor of his hope, his only support and consolation in that trying hour; and recommending it to those around him, as their best friend in life, and only one at death, with all the weight and solemnity which a death bed can add to the impressive language of an aged, experienced saint, and firm and joyful believer, expecting, the next hour, to stand in the presence of his Judge.*