THE memory of the just is blessed. When they are taken from the earth, we dwell with melancholy pleasure on the living excellence which they once display ed. Their work of faith, and labour of love, and patience of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ, are among our most tender rccollections, and are the topics on which we most delight to expatiate. Such remembrance of departed worth, is highly beneficial. It awakens within us feelings of regret that our attainments are so small, and excites strong desires that we may be more like those who have now entered into the joy of their Lord.

It is the practical instruction which may be derived, and the powerful influence of example in forming the human character, which give to Biography its chief import

ance.

It is of no real consequence to be informed of the scenes through which an individual has passed, unless his history teaches us what evils we should avoid, or confirms us in the pursuit of what is good. It is not to gratify a useless curiosity, that the lives of good and wick ed men are recorded in the Scriptures. The evils which came on the latter," happened unto them

for ensamples; and they are written for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are come;" and the blessed end of the former is mentioned, to stimulate us, 66 to lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and to run with patience the race that is set before us." With a hope that some salutary effects will be produced, our readers are presented with a sketch of the life and character of a dear deceased friend.

MR. JOHN CAULDWELL was born at Cotsal, a small village in the county of Stafford, England, May 22, 1763. When about eight years of age, he went to reside with his grandfather, Mr. Edwardly, who was a pious and upright man. Though this aged disciple lived seven miles from Birmingham, yet he regularly attended worship with the Baptist Church in that city. This circumstance is mentioned, because it seems to have been the means of making the subject of this memoir acquainted with a denomination of Christians, to whom he was ever afterwards attached.

On attaining the age of fourteen, his father informed him, he was about to procure a place for him

in Birmingham, where he might acquire a knowledge of some branch of trade. Affected with the importance of this measure, and impressed with a belief in an overruling Providence, he for the first time in his life made his requests to God. Having repaired to his chamber, he knelt down, and prayed earnestly to the Lord, that he would direct the steps of his father, and dispose Mr. Harwood, a deacon of the Baptist Church in Cannon street, to receive him into his family. It was so ordered by a gracious Providence, that the prayer of this youth was answered. He had not been long in this new situation, when he became deeply convinced of his sinful and guilty condition, and obtained mercy by faith in the Redeemer.

23.

dent and faithful conversation with one thoughtless young man, was instrumental in turning him from the error of his ways. This person joined the same church, and after adorning his Christian profession for several years, he observed in his last moments, that John Cauldwell was the means of bringing him to a knowledge of himself as a poor lost sinner.

Mr.Cauldwell was baptized, April 1779. From this period he gave unequivocal evidence that his faith in Christ was sincere. As the church at this time was without a Pastor, he with several young per sons, met at an early hour every Sabbath morning, to pray that God would send them a faithful minister. At an advanced period of life, he often referred to these meetings with a lively interest. With feelings which almost prevented utterance, he has frequently remarked, that he considered the eminently pious Pearce as given to the church, in answer to their prayers. What

It is gratifying to see religion influencing the conduct of professors in all the relations of life. There are some who manifest a commendable zeal in attending the exercises of public worship; nor are they deficient in conversing on religious subjects; but when you follow them to the privacies of domestic life, and inquire what is their conduct at home, your admiration is greatly diminished; you hear of irregularities, of wrong tempers, of of remissness in relative duties, which give you pain. But when, in addition to the manifestation of piety and zeal, you see a spirit of kindness in those who are invested with authority, and fidelity in those who serve; you behold a character which reflects honour on the Christian profession. Such was the character of the deceased. While he filled his place at the prayer-meeting, and in the house of God, be was careful that these services did not interfere with the duties which he owed to his master. During his apprenticeship, he endeavoured to discharge his obligations, "not with eye service, as men pleasers, hut in singleness of heart, fearing God. Not purloining, but shewing all good fidelity; that he might adorn the doctrine of God his Saviour in all things" And he had the satisfaction of knowing, that he shared the full confidence and high approbation of the respectable person with whom he lived. When an inquiry was made into his character at a very interesting period of his life, Mr. Harwood was pleased to speak of him in terms of un

a rich donation was then bestowed. And what a powerful motive does this fact supply to destitute churches, to be instant in prayer, that God would send them Pastors after his own heart, who shall feed them with knowledge and understanding. Having tasted that the Lord was gracious, he was desirous that his young friends should participate with him in the blessings of the common salvation." Hence, he embraced opportunities of conversing with them on the things which belonged to their peace. These efforts were not fruitless. His pru

qualified approbation. Among other things, he remarked, "If my bureau was filled with gold, I would as soon let him keep the key as myself." This testimony was connected with an event, which contributed to his happiness to the last day of his life. The declaration of Solomon was distinctly verified in his experience; "A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold."

Mr. Cauldwell entered into the narriage relation, April 23, 1789. A was his happiness to be united to aperson who was decidedly pious; and from this connexion he deriv. edinexpressible satisfaction to the day of his death. After he had been established in business a number of years, he thought it his duty to remove with his family to the Unitel States. It was not without many evere conflicts of mind, that be reconciled himself to leave the ministry of Mr. Pearce-the belov ed church in Cannon street-and an endeared circle of relations and friends. But he was warmly attached to be administration of government in this country, He considered the United States not only as pre-eminent for civil and relig. ious liberty, but far richer in promise for future generations than any other country on the globe. These considerations enabled him to make great sacrifices of personal feeling, and to bid a final adieu to his native land.

In the month of November, 1795, our departed brother arrived with his family, in the city of New-York. After watching the movements of Providence for a considerable time, he presented his letter of dismis, sion to the church of Christ in Fayette street, and remained in con, nexion with that people till his decease. Those who have lived in Christian intimacy with him near a quarter of a century know what a deep and unceasing interest he felt for the prosperity of that church.

It

His attendance on the worship of God was uniform. He loved the house of the Lord, and the place where his honour dwelleth was seldom the case that either company, business, or inclemency of weather were allowed to detain him from the stated meetings appointed by the church. It is stated in an extract from his funeral sermon, that "the office of deacon, which he filled near twenty years, was faithfully discharged; for his love was not in word only, but in deed, and in truth. His benevolence to the poor was of no common kind, and liberality formed a prominent trait in his character."

He did not think he had performed his duty in carrying round the elements of the supper once a month; he visited the habitations of his poor and afflicted brethren; enquired into their circumstances, and often relieved them not only from the funds of the church, but from his own. It was this long continued kindness to the poor, which produced such strong feelings of sympathy at his death. that the coloured members of the church voluntarily assembled at the funeral, and followed in procession their deceased friend and benefactor to the grave.

But the benevolent feelings of our respected friend could not be circumscribed by the boundaries of a particular church. As his surviving Pastor remarks, "The pros perity of the cause of God in the earth, and the spread of the gospel among the nations, were objects which lay near his heart. The formation of the Baptist Missionary Society in England, by Carey, Fuller, Pearce, and others, with whom he was personally intimate, had taken such strong hold on his mind, that change of country and connexions could not alter or weaken the impressions that had been made; and the events which accompanied the formation of that Society, were to the day of his death a favourite

theme of conversation. He was long an active officer of the Domestic and Foreign Mission Societies; and while his health continued, he laboured industriously and with delight to promote their welfare. He was a member of the first general Convention of the Baptist denomination, which met in Philadelphia, A.D. 1814. In organizing the Board, Mr. C. was chosen Treasurer. The arduous and responsible duties of which office, he continued to discharge, without emolument or reward, with undeviating integrity until within a few months of his decease; when the impaired state of his health made it necessary for him to resign. His own hopes resting on the doctrines of the Bible, and having experienced in his own person its blessings, he was anxious to communicate to others the glad tidings of salvation. Hence he spared no exertions in advancing the interests of the Bible Societies in our land." Mr. Cauldwell was a member of the New-York Bible Society, and for several years an active officer of the American Bible Society. Indeed there was scarcely a benevolent Institution in the city of NewYork, which was established on the broad principles of Christianity, of which he was not an efficient member. His time, his talents, and property, were cheerfully consecrated to the cause of religion, and suffering hu manity.

His

Nor was he amid all these pub. lic engagements, unmindful of the more retired, but equally import ant duties of private life. Christian character never appear. ed to greater advantage than when he was in the midst of his own family. There the domestic virtues were displayed in their fair propor tion. He was a pattern of conjugal fidelity and affection; and tempered his parental authority with the law of love. The scriptures were daily read in the family, and supplications offered to Him who is the author and giver of all good.

He taught his children sacredly to regard the Christian sabbath, and expected their punctual attendance with him on the public worship of God. And he had the happiness of seeing four of them received into that church, of which he was a member.

But however much the happiness of our families may seem to depend on our continuance with them; or, however useful we may be in the church and the world; the period will arrive when w must withdraw from active scene', and close our eyes forever on mɗ. tal objects.

To the eye of human reason. Ir. Cauldwell was one of those nen whom the church and the world

could not spare. But infinite wis dom saw, and ordained otherwise. About three years ago, as nearly as we can recollect, he had a paralytick stroke, from which he recovered, but it evidently left him in a more enfeebled state. At distant intervals, he had slight symptoms of the same disease: i ard within the last year, it was evidert to those whose feelings would allow them to believe it, that he was rapidly descending to the grave. Perhaps the nature of his last sickness, and the state of his mind, while labouring under a complication of diseas es, cannot be better described, than by introducing a communication from one who was deeply interested in this event.

"During the past year, he re. signed almost all the public offices which he held. His sun of useful. Dess had set. He had been a faithful steward, and was only waiting to receive the reward, "Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." His mental faculties had bent beneath the weight of his disorderhis memory had gone-his dearest friends he did not know, till he list ened to the sound of their voiceindeed that was the only way by which he distinguished us.-Yet

there was one friend whom he never forgot the Lord Jesus Christone subject on which he ever delighted to dwell; the religion of Jesus. This was all his delight-it was his rod and his staff. His mind was not distracted with doubts and fears. He exercised a calm and steady reliance on the promises of that God who had sup, ported him all his journey, and promised he would never leave nor forsake him. To the last, he appeared to possess a spirit of prayer; and although in conversation of any kind, he frequently wavered, yet when engaged in this sacred duty, he was, with the exception of a few times, always perfectly col lected, and appeared to possess unusual confidence in approaching the mercy seat. This important duty he never forgot, although he was frequently unable to attend to it in an evening. The Saturday morning before he died, our dear mother was very ill, and the care of the family devolved on me. Family devotion was later than usual. He came into the little room where I was, and said, J——————, can you read now? I could not then, and he went up stairs. Alas! he prayed no more with us! His priesthood at his family altar ceased forever.

"In the last six months, his health would not permit him to attend public worship more than once on the sabbath. That he could go once, however, was to him a great source of consolation. He was at meeting the last sabbath in December-he was feeble-when he sat down in his pew, he leaned his head on the top of his cane, while tears of joy rolled down his face. He was praying. I think I can never forget my feelings. He reminded me of the old patriarch, who, when his feeble limbs refused to support him, worshipped his Creator, leaning on the top of his staff."

The following account of his last end, by the same individual, will probably be interesting to all our

readers." Your affectionate letter was indeed a kind of solace to the deep toned anguish of my bosom. Yes, it re-assured us that our irreparable loss was equally yours; that the keen edge of sorrow was deeply felt in the sympathetic breast of our beloved

There is a luxury

in grief, and when we are sensible it is shared by many, it does indeed alleviate, though it cannot lessen it. Well! it is done! that moment in which every spark of sensibility must be roused and enlivened is past; for we have committed to the silent dust our beloved father. But I cannot indeed realize it at all. What has passed appears like a dream, and when I awake, I sometimes for a moment think, "tis a forgery of fancy." But when I realize that it is no "dream of wo," I sometimes feel overwhelmed with

sorrow.

"I believe I promised to give you all the particulars of this heart rending providence. The task is arduous, yet there is a mournful satisfaction in the recital. We were ignorant of any material alteration having taken place in our dear father until Sabbath morning, Jan. 6. The day preceding, he complained of being more unwell than usual. In the afternoon he laid down and slept. His Pastor called and engaged in prayer. On being told that Mr. Williams had been there, he said, "Yes, I heard him." But he wascompletely overpowered as we thought with sleep. Little did we think with what sleep.

In the evening

he came down stairs, and remained in the parlour until about eight o'clock. Then it was for the first time that my feelings were most powerfully excited, and I suffered mute agony. I offered him something to drink, he could not see the cup which I held for him, but stretched out his hand for me to guide it. Several persons came in while he sat-he repeatedly said, What a mercy it is I have no pain,

what a mercy it is we have good