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around him a church which shall "be in earnest about their eternity." And if the immortal Shakspeare had intentionally described him in the following lines, he could not have greatly erred:—
"He was a man, take him for all in all: , •
We ne'er shall look upon his like again."
Extract of a letter from Rev. Simeon Parmalee, Westford, New-York:—
* * "For the last twenty-eight years I have known little of that ever memorable man, Reverend Lemuel Haynes, except from occasional interviews; hence I must depend on memory for what I may state respecting him. No man, however, not even my own father, has more perfect standing in my recollection than that affectionate and extraordinary man. My native place was within ten miles of his residence at West Rutland. He was a most intimate friend of our beloved pastor, and often exchanged pulpits with him on the Sabbath. The fact was always announced on the preceding Sabbath, and he never failed of securing a crowded assembly. Hence, from a child, I entertained the most exalted views of the man, and nothing would induce me to be absent when he was to supply the pulpit. While yet a careless youth, I well remember that I regarded it as a serious evil to find myself belated so as to deprive myself of the first prayer. There was something in the looks, manner, and gesture of the man that chained my attention, and impressed my youthful mind with the thought that he was something more than human. I often passed the Sabbath with a sister, who, with her husband and some of the children, were members of his church; and my visits were a source of great pleasure, as I could enjoy the luxury of hearing Mr. Haynes on the Sabbath. After making a profession of religion, which was in early life, I became more intimately acquainted with him. While studying divinity, I spent the most of one season in his family, and enjoyed the privilege of sitting under his ministry. One peculiar
character of his talents in the pulpit was great solemnity. When he ascended the pulpit, it was with a gravity which seemed to indicate that he felt the amazing weight of his charge as an ambassador of God to dying men. His solemn countenance, with an eye quick and piercing, at once hushed- every thing like levity in the assembly, and compelled all to feel that they were in God's house. His reading was somewhat oldfashioned and monotonous, but peculiarly impressive. His prayers were inimitable. They were expressed in language peculiarly solemn, and reverential, and humble. He seemed to feel like a guilty offender upon his knees before the great Sovereign of the universe, pleading for guilty worms, himself the most guilty. He seemed to sigh for a more humble spirit, often closing his prayers with such an expression as this,—'When our poor services here are ended, oh, let us sit down in that world of eternal humiliation, where we shall serve thee more acceptably.' When notes for special prayer were presented, he was wonderful in introducing them in such a manner as to bring the subjects in the most moving manner before the eye of the congregation. His sympathies were uncommonly strong. Both his matter and manner in prayer were original. He was the least formal, in the family and in the pulpit, of any man I ever heard. He often commenced family prayer, in which he was always short, with a passage of Scripture like the following,—' It is good to give thanks unto thee, 0 God.' In prayer and in preaching, it may be said of him that he was like no one else. His choice of a text was peculiar. His plans were original. He was mighty in the Scriptures, and he could quote them from memory, referring to chapter and verse. This practice gave him no small share of popularity. I have heard him often on important occasions, when called to preach at the funeral of distinguished characters, or at ordinations, when he rarely came up to himself. He shone brightest in his own pulpit. His gestures were few, and those not the most graceful. But there was an earnestness in his manner, and looks, and language, which told on the consciences of his hearers. His discourses were plain to be understood, exceeding practical and pointed. Few men have at command a greater fund of useful knowledge than he; and it was so managed as to render his sermons both useful and entertaining. Not merely the common people, but all classes were delighted in listening to his ingenuity.* Though possessed of rare wit, he seldom employed it in the pulpit. Tears were much more common than smiles in the congregation. At a meeting of ministers, if an accidental sermon was called for, it almost uniformly fell on Mr. Haynes to be the preacher."
HIS LAST SICKNESS AND DEATH.
It was the prayer of John Wesley, "Lord, let me not live to be useless." Mr. Haynes lived to a good old age, but not one day too long. His powers of usefulness continued in such a degree that he officiated in the ministry till within five months of his decease. And these months, though marked by severe suffering, were distinguished for sweet submission, and a hope full of immortality.
After taking a final leave of friends in Granville, Massachusetts, he returned in August to his beloved flock in Granville, New-York, and continued his pastoral labours, as usual, through the year. Early in the year following he penned his last sermon from these words: "And serve him day and night in his temple." He was now contemplating the "saint's everlasting rest," a subject on which he had often dwelt with great delight, and which, as he drew near to eternity, was unquestionably invested with new interest. His mind was elevated with heavenly contemplations.
* The president of one of our colleges, hearing him preach on Jmlas's selling Christ, remarked, that " there were more rich thoughts in that discourse than any he had ever heard."
Symptoms of disease indicated that the time of his departure was at hand. Early in March a species of gangrene appeared in one of his feet, which threatened speedy dissolution. For three weeks he experienced extreme anguish day and night. There was then a mitigation of the violence of disease, and he resumed his pastoral labours. On the 7th of April he preached at the funeral of a young man from 2 Cor. v., 1: "For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." His aspect was of such a death-like paleness, that he seemed, in a sense, to be preaching his own funeral sermon. For several weeks, though at the expense of great suffering, he met his congregation twice on the Lord's day. His last sermon delivered in public was from Luke iv., 16: "And, as his custom was, he went into the synagogue on the Sabbath day." .'
He now bade farewell to his pulpit, and retired to the bosom of his family to die. And he retired laden with the blessing of multitudes, whose gratitude, confidence, and affection he carried with him to his grave.
In May. he was confined for the most part to his house, but still had strong desires to preach the gospel to his fellow-men. To a brother in the ministry he made the following remarks: "I am strong in the be lief of the same doctrines, and wish to die preaching the same gospel, which, for more than fifty years, I have proclaimed to mankind."
In these externally afflicting circumstances, the Reverend Mr. Jackson, of Dorset, says.— , "It is worthy of remark, that such was the affection and sympathy of our churches for Mr. Haynes, when compelled by infirmities to resign his work, the Rutland Consociation, in June, 1833, appointed a committee of their own body to see that this aged servant of God should be carefully provided for, and not suffer any privation which could be prevented. And, as soon as this committee notified the churches that there was need, ample relief began to flow in from the churches, and continued for a season even after his decease."
It is a just saying of Logan, "that afflictions, supported by patience and surmounted by fortitude, give the last finishing to the heroic and gracious character." Mr. Haynes was one of whom it might be emphatically said, "1 have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction." From his birth "he had been set as a mark for the arrow." While he was distinguished in every period of life by rich expressions of Divine favour, his cup was mingled with draughts of severe suffering. But it was apparent that each successive trial carried him forward in meetness for the world of glory.
Mr. Haynes did not die suddenly, but had time for self-examination and prayer. He could deliberately review the past and look forward to the future. He did not suffer a wreck of intellectual powers, but he was calm and collected even to the last. His deathbed was a scene of triumph. His whole deportment showed that he was familiar with heaven.
As summer months advanced, the gangrene spread in his diseased limb, and the only hope was in amputation. In July a council of physicians was called, his own son being one of the number, and the result was not to amputate. About this time he writes to one of bis sons at a distance, and the letter carries with it