During the continuance of A. S's distemper, while it was any ways suitable for him, he struggled to get out, to sit with Friends in their religious meetings, waiting therein for a renewal of strength to his inward man; and when prevented, by the progress of his disorder, from attending meetings, he was visited in his own apartment by many Friends, to whom he was often drawn forth in sweet counsel, to the tendering of their spirits, under the influence of the precious sense and power which accompanied his words. Many were the seasonable opportunities of this sort, and many the sensible, weighty expressions that dropped from him, in the course of his painful, tedious illness, which reduced him to very great bodily weakness. His flesh, indeed, exceedingly decayed, but his spirit was constantly renewed and replenished with heavenly oil; so that his lamp burned bright to the very last; and in holy confidence of a happy change, a little before his departure, he said to his relations about him, "I have no cause to grieve, neither would I have you." Yet he mentioned, in true humility, that he had nothing to trust to, but the mercies of the Almighty. His mind was often favoured with inward joy; and one night, after much bodily pain, he was so filled with heavenly consolation, that, with a melodious voice he said, "I am well: I feel no pain: I feel good. Oh, the elders! the elders! they should dig for the arising of the well of life, as with their staves in their hands. Spring up, O well, and I will sing unto thee." At another time, in a manner similar to this, he uttered these words: "Those that are faithful to the end shall receive a crown, a crown that fadeth not away; but rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft.”

The night before his decease, a young man, about whom he had several times been anxiously concerned, being brought to his bed-side, though his speech faultered, he spoke in a living, sensible manner, with the authority of

truth on his spirit. And to one of his own family, who was present, he addressed himself in a most affecting and encouraging exhortation, as if taking a last and solemn farewell. The next morning, though his speech grew worse, he spoke in a tender and cordial manner to some of his family. Some of the last articulate words he uttered, were expressive of the helpand comfort which he felt; and even when his speech quite failed, his manner and gesture were such as those who were intimately acquainted with him knew he was wont to use, when his excellent spirit felt the power of truth in dominion. He departed this life in great peace, the same day about noon, the 24th of 6th month, 1771, aged seventy-four years; and after a very large and solemn meeting, to which his remains were brought, they were interred in Friends' burying-ground in Ballitore, 27th of the same.

His son long felt and long lamented the loss of such a father-such a friend; and that sorrow, which he indulged in secret, in the chamber where he had seen him die, sometimes burst forth at his own table, surrounded by his friends. The mantle of the departed worthy seemed to have descended on his son, who, deprived of his precept and example, endeavoured yet more closely to follow Him, to whose service both had been dedicated.

Long was the loss of this exemplary and venerable man felt, even by a wider circle than his own connexions. On this occasion his former pupil, Edmund Burke, thus writes to R. S. "I am heartily affected with the subject of your last letter. I had a true honour and affection for that excellent man. I feel something like a satisfaction in the midst of my concern, which I had not in the same degree before, that I was fortunate enough to have him once more under my roof before his departure. He was indeed a man of singular piety, rectitude, and virtue; and he had, along with these qualities, a native elegance of manners,

which nothing but genuine good-nature and unaffected simplicity of heart can give, and which they will give infallibly, be the exterior forms what they may."

The following is an extract from the Testimony, concerning Abraham Shackleton, of Ballitore, Ireland, 1774.

"Reverent, awful, solemn and teaching to the thoughtful beholder, was his deportment in religious meetings. His humble spirit deeply and patiently waited (sometimes watched and waited long) for the resurrection of divine life: when this was present, he had all things; when this disappeared, all comfort seemed withdrawn.

"And, indeed, as he seemed beyond most men to take little satisfaction in any thing but the precious truth itself, so, we believe, he was beyond most men favoured with the overshadowing of it."

And John Griffith, in his Journal, page 274, 1760, says of him: "I met with my good friend, Abraham Shackleton, who travelled with me most of the time I was in that nation, (Ireland.) Of him I think it may be said, as was of Nathaniel: "Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile!" He was a great comfort and help to me; and though he did not appear publicly as a minister, yet he would drop tender advice at times, in families, in a very affecting manner. His whole conversation, looks, and deportment, were so leavened and tempered with good, that I looked upon him as a preacher of righteousness wherever he came."

F

CHAPTER IV.

Letters on different Subjects, between the Years 1773 and 1780, inclusive.

RICHARD SHACKLETON TO SAMUEL CARLETON.

"Thou hast so far coincided with my sentiments. Now let me further add, in my humble judgment it will not prove to thy advantage, for divers reasons, to spend time unnecessarily in Dublin, when thy affairs will be settled there, so as that thou canst handsomely leave it. Many inconveniences attend an indolen: life any where, especially there. Come as soon as thou canst into the country among thy friends, where are wholesome air, opportunity for exercise, and, in some places, wholesome conversation; of which last I would not be supposed to mean as if I thought the city entirely destitute. Thou art heartily welcome to my house, and need be in no hurry, but at thy own leisure, and after due consideration and trial, fix thy head-quarters where thou mayst think most proper; like the bird disencumbered and raised high from the earth, that sings up in the air, and looks down and chooses what spot to alight on. Thus mayst thou, dear cousin, being more unfettered from the cares of earth, soar nearer to heaven, making melody in thy heart, and anticipating the joys of that happy place. So shall thy last days be thy best days; and after all thy troubles, conflicts, and besetments, which I believe have been many, and of various

kinds, thou wilt, through the infinite goodness of our great Benefactor, find and feel sweet peace at last.

"Accept of the hearty salutation of my father, wife, sister, and children. I am, dear cousin,

"Very affectionately thine,

"R. S."

After the death of Abraham Shackleton, Samuel Carleton came to live with his cousin Deborah.

R. S. TO HIS DAUGHTER MARGARET.

66

"Ballitore, 24th of 1st Month, 1773.

Mayst thou, dear child, be preserved in simplicity and nothingness of self; in humility and lowliness of mind, seeking diligently after, and waiting steadily for, the inward experience of that which is unmixedly good. This is the way to be helped along, from day to day, through one difficulty and proving after another, to the end of our wearisome pilgrimage; having recourse, like the hunted hart, to the brook by the way, when pressed by our spiritual enemies. By this, my dear child, the predecessors in our family, who lived in the truth, were enabled to wade through their afflictions, and knew that overcoming which entitles to the glorious, eternal rewards. Many are the favours which thou, my dear daughter, hast received at the hand of the great Giver. What need I enumerate any of them? thy grateful heart is sensible of them. May thy branches, weighed down with humility, gratitude, and all fruits of the spirit, bend towards the root which sustains every tree of righteousness, and from which its sap and life is supplied and derived. By humility and lowliness of mind, many temptations are avoided, and incumbrances escaped. It is a safe and quiet habitation, into which the devil cannot enter; and his emissaries