J. AN ETTLOG-7 ON DR. GOBMAN, BEING AN IXTRODUCTORY LECTURE, DELIVERED NOVEMBER 1, 1830. >§§§t J THOMAS SEW ALL, M D. -^ Professor of Anatomy and Physiology in the Columbian College, . District of Columbia. WASHINGTON : VVM. GREER, PRINTER. 1830. V EULOGY. -9$t§C2>~ There are occasions, Gentlemen, when it is proper—when it is profi- table, to halt in the career of life, not only to mark the progress of things, but to observe the character of men, and more especially of those men distinguished for eminent success, or signal failure, that we may emu- late the examples of the one, and shun the misfortunes of the other. The present is such an occasion; and if properly improved, cannot fail to instruct as well as to gratify. There has recently appeared among us a man, so remarkable for the character of his mind, and for the qualities of his heart, one whose life though short, was attended with such brilliant displays of genius, with such distinguished success in the study of our profession, and the kindred sciences, that to pass him by without tracing the history of his career, and placing before you the prominent traits of his character—the im- portant events of his life, would alike be an act of injustice to the me- mory of eminent worth, and deprive you of one of the noblest examples of the age. I refer to Professor Godman, whose death has been announced, since we last assembled within these walls. This remarkable man was born not far from us, in a place already renowned for having given birth to an unusual proportion of eminent men ; the city of Annapolis, the Metropolis of the ancient State of Ma- ryland. But few of the incidents of Dr. Godman's childhood and youth, have come to my knowledge. I have learned, however, that he was early deprived of the Tostering care which flows from parental solicitude and affection, as both his parents died while he was quite young, His father had lost the greater part of his estate before his death, and 4 that which remained never came into the hands of his children. Young Godman, therefore, was early taught to rely on his own talents, and in- dustry. In this situation he was indented an apprentice to a printer in the city of Baltimore; but the occupation was not congenial to his taste, and after a few years, he left the business in disgust, and at the same time entered as a sailor on board the Flotilla, which was then, the fall of 1813, stationed in the Chesapeake Bay. At the close of the war, having arrived at the age of 15, he was permitted to pursue the inclina- tion of his own mind; and he immediately commenced the study of me- dicine. He first placed himself under the instruction of Dr. Lucket. of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, but soon removed to Baltimore, and en- tered the office of Dr. Davidge, at that time Professor of Anatomy, in the University of Maryland. Here he pursued his studies with such diligence and zeal, as to furnish, even at that early period, strong intimations of his future eminence. So indefatigable was he in the acquisition of knowledge, that he left no op- portunity of advancement unimproved, and notwithstanding the de- ficiences of his preparatory education, he pressed forward with an en- ergy and perseverance that enabled him not only to rival, but to surpass all his fellows. As an evidence of the distinguished attainments he had made, and of the confidence reposed in his abilities, he was called to the chair of Anato- my in the University, some time before he graduated, to supply the place of his preceptor, who was taken from the lectures in consequence of a fractured extremity. This situation he filled for several weeks with so much propriety—he lectured with such enthusiasm and elo- quence, his illustrations were so clear and happy, as to gain universal ap- plause; and at the time he was examined for his degree, the superiority of his mind, as well as the extent and accuracy of his knowledge were so apparent, that he was marked by the Professors of the University as one who was destined at some future period, to confer high honor upon the profession. Soon after he graduated, he repaired to a small village in Anne-Arun- del county, in his native State, and established himself as a practitioner of medicine. Here he entered on the active duties of the profession with the same energy and diligence, which had distinguished him while a pupil, devoting all the hours he could spare to professional and other studies. It was at this time that he commenced the study of Natural Histo- ry, a science in which he became so distinguished an adept, and for which he ever after evinced so strong a passion. But the place was too limited 5 for the exercise of his powers ; and not finding those advantages which he wished for the cultivation of his favorite pursuits, he removed to Baltimore, and especially that he might enjoy more ample opportunities for the study of Anatomy, which he considered as constituting the foun- dation of all medical science. About thJfc time he formed a connection by marriage; an event which contributed equally to his domestic happiness and literary advancement. Soon after his marriage he removed to Philadelphia, but had scarcely settled in that city when he received a pressing invitation to accept the Profsssorship of Anatomy in the Medical College of Ohio; an institution then recently established. During his western tour he encountered difficulties which would have broken down a spirit less energetic than his own; but he bore up under his accumulated labors and privations, with unshaken firmness and steady perseverance. He however remained but one year, and returned to Philadelphia—and here commenced that career of research and discovery, which laid the foundation of his future eminence. More ambitious of fame, and more eager for the acquisition of knowl- edge, than for the accumulation of wealth, Dr. Godman on settling in Philadelphia, rather retired from the field of practice, that he might employ all his time, and exert all his powers in scientific pursuits ; and consequently found himself at once removed from the pitiful rivalries and jealousies of the profession, and placed in a situation in which he could enjoy the friendship, and secure the confidence and respect of all his brethren. His main object was to make himself a thorough anatomist, and to qualify himself for teaching the science. To this end he opened a room, under the patronage of the University, for giving private demonstrations; and the first winter he drew around him a class of seventy students. He now found himself occupying a field which furnished ample scope for the exertion of all his powers, as well as for the gratification of his highest ambition; and it was while engaged in the discharge of the duties of this situation, that the foundation was laid of that fatal disease of which he died ; for he was so eager to acquire knowl- edge himself, as well as impart instruction to those around him, that he would not only expose himself to the foul atmosphere of the dissecting room during the whole day, but often subject himself to the severest toil for a considerable part of the night; and the moments which were spared from his Anatomical labors, instead of being spent in re- laxation, or in exercise in the open air for the benefit of his health, were employed in composing papers for the medical journals, in copying the results of his Anatomical and Physiological investigations, in preparing parts of his natural history ; or in carrying on other literary and scientific studies. It is impossible that a constitution naturally deli- cate, could long remain unimpaired under such strenuous, iad unremit- ting exertion. After Dr. Godman had prosecuted his Anatomical studies in Philadel- phia for four or five years, his reputation as an Anatomist became so generally known, his fame so widely extended, that the eyes of the pro- fession were directed to him from every part of the country; and in 1826 he was called to fill the chair of Anatomy in Rutgers Medi- cal College, established in the City of New-York. There could scarcely have been a stronger testimony of the high estima- tion in which he was held, or of his reputation as a teacher of Anatomy, than his appointment to this station; an institution, around which several of the most eminent'professors in the country had already rallied; and which was called into existence under circum- stances of rivalry that demanded the highest qualifications in its in- structors. This situation, as that of every other in which he had been placed, he sustained with a popularity almost unparalleled. He ne- ver exhibited in public, but he drew around him an admiring audi- ence, who hung with delight upon his lips. But the duties of the chair, together with his other scientific pursuits, were too arduous, and the climate too rigorous for a constitution already subdued by labor, and broken by disease. ; and before he had completed his sec- ond course of lectures, he was compelled to retire from the school, and seek an residence in a milder climate. He repaired with his family to one of the West India Islands, and remained till the approach of summer, when he returned, and settled in Germantown. At this place, and in Philadelphia, he spent the residue of his life. From the time Dr. Godman lef New-York, his disease advanced with such a steady pace as to leave but little hope, either to himself or his friends, of his final recovery. He however continued almost to the last weeks of his life, to toil in his literary and scientific employments ; and this too, with all that ardor and enthusiasm, which distinguished the more youthful part of his career. But for what purpose did he thus toil ? Not for the acquisition of wealth, for this he could not enjoy ; not for posthumous fame, for this he did not desire. It was, as he affectingly tells us, for the more noble purpose, the support of his family, and the good of his fellow creatures. The productions of Dr. Godman's pen, and the fruits of his labor, are too numerous to be specified. Among them will be found, " Anato- mical Investigations, comprising a "Description of various Fasciae of the Human Body ;"—"An account of ,some Irregularities of Structure and Morbid Anatomy;"—" Contributions to Physiological and Pathological Anatomy •,"—" A system of Natural History of American Quadru- peds ;"—« An Edition of " Bell's Anatomy, with notes;"—" Rambles of a Naturalist." Several articles on Natural History, for the American Encyclopaedia, besides numerous papers which have appeared in the periodical journals of the day. At one time he was the principal Editor of the " Philadelphia Journal of the Medical and Physical Sciences;" and projected, and commenced the present form of that work, as now published under the title of the " American Journal of the Medical Sciences." He collected and published some time before his death, a volume of Addresses which he had delivered on different public occasions. These productions have, most of them, been before the public for a considerable time; have been received with high approbation, and several of them been favorably noticed, and republished in foreign coun- tries. Those of his works which are purely medical, have been read with great interest by the profession, and contain much new and valuable information. His investigations of the Fasciae of the Human Body, and his description of this intricate part of the Animal Structure, while they disclose some important discoveries which he made, exhibit the whole subject in a manner so plain and simple, as to divest it of its obscurity, and bring it to the comprehension of the youngest student—a subject which, till his researches were made known, was but little understood by the best Anatomists. His Contributions also to Physiological and Pathological Anatomy, though but the scattered fragments of a great work which he had designed, contain discoveries and observations which will be read with the deepest interest by the enquirer after truth • Of his works not immediately connected with the profession, his Natu- ral History of American Quadrupeds is the most elaborate, and is pub- lished in three volumes. This production will long remain a splendid monument of the genius and industry of its author, and be regarded as a model of composition 8 for works of this description. It should have a place upon the table of every family, and be put into the hands of all the youths of our country. Among the latest productions of his pen, are his essays entitled Ram- bles of a Naturalist, which were written in the intervals of extreme pain and debility. For strong, lively, and accurate description, they have scarcely been surpassed. He always came to his subject as an investigator of facts,—one who had nothing to learn, but every thing to discover; and, like the celebrated BufFon, never availed himself of the labor of others, till he had exhausted his own resources. It was this spirit which enabled him to disclose so many new truths, and which gave to all his works the stamp of originality. The value which he placed on original observation, as well as the zeal with which he sought information from this source, may be learned from a single incident, "that, in investigating the habits of the shrew mole, he walked many hundred miles." The volume of his Public Addresses have been greatly admired for the pure and elevated sentiment they contain, as well as for their high-wrought eloquence, in which respect they rank among the finest compositions in our language. But his published works constitute but a part of the labors of his pen, and many things which he sent forth, were only fragments of a great system, or the commencement of future researches. He had formed vast plans for prosecuting new investigations in various departments of science, which he did not live to accomplish. Though h© wrote with great rapidity, and sometimes with- out much care, yet all his works bear the imp e 1 of a r^H m'-jrally vigorous, bold and original, and i.iuch disposed to diavv from ^s own resources; and most of them are written in a style of great elegance and beauty. Dr. Godman's intellectual character was very extraordinary. He possessed naturally, all the characteristic features of a mind of the high- est order. Naturally bold, ardent, and enterprising, he never stopped to calculate consequences, so far as they regarded himself; but rushed forward with impetuosity to perform whatever he undertook Great and lofty intellectual purposes seemed to be the natural element in which he lived. His perception was quick and accurate; his memory exceedingly retentive, and he possessed an uncommon facility >f abstracting his atten- tion from surrounding objccts,and of concentrating all his powers upon the subject of his pursuit. It was this latter trait of mind, no doubt, which 9 gave such effect to all his efforts: while he was indebted to the power of his memory for the remarkable facility he possessed of acquiring languages: for although his early education had been exceedingly limited, he had acquired such a knowledge of the Latin, Greek, French, Ger- man, Spanish, and Italian languages, as to read and translate them with fluency, and to write several of them with elegance. His quick and discriminating powers of observation naturally inclined him to notice the habits and economy of animals, and gave him his taste for the study of Natural History. But, the most striking character of his mind was undoubtedly philo- sophical imagination. It was this trait, which conferred upon him such powers of description and illustration, and imparted freshness and splendor to every thing he touched. All his conceptions were strong, clear, and original, and he possessed the power of holding before him whatever object engaged his attention, till all its parts and relations were brought to view. By those who have listened to his extemporan- eous discussions, it is said, that while he was speaking, a thousand ima- ges seemed to cluster around the subject, and that he had just time to select such as imparted beauty, or furnished the happiest illustration of the object he wished to explain. Yet, while he possessed all this rich- ness and fertility of mind, taste and judgment ever controlled its opera- tions. With regard to his habits, I know but little, except that he was a laborious and untiring student, and possessed in an high de- gree the requisites of all true intellectual greatness—the habit of pa- tient investigation, long continued attention, and a singular love of la- bor. " How often," says one, (to whom he unbosomed the secrets of his heart) " have I entreated him, while pouring half the night over his books and papers, which were to yield him nothing but empty honor— how often have I begged him to consider his health ; but his ambition and thirst for knowledge were such, that having commenced an investi- gation, or a language, no difficulty could stop him; and what he had no time to accomplish in the day, he would do at night, instead of enjoying that rest of which he stood in so much need." It has been truly and happily said by one who knew him intimately, that his eagerness in the pursuit of knowledge, seemed like the impulse of gnawing hunger, and an unquenchable thirst; which neither adver^'- *> 10 ty nor disease could allay. Variety of occupations was the only relax- ation which he sought for or desired. He composed with rapidity, but not without a high degree of intel- lectual excitement, and the most abstracted attention. Under such an influence, some of his best essays were sent to the press as they first came from his pen, without the smallest correction. Considering the defects of his early education, his acquisitions for his years, were astonishingly great. Indeed, there were but few subjects of general literature with which he was not, more or less, acquainted. But, it was his accurate knowledge of Anatomy and Physiology, and his uncommon power of teaching these branches of medicine, which gives him his strongest claims to our regard as a man of science; and had his life and health been prolonged, that he could have directed the whole energy of his mind to the cultivation of this department of our profession, we have reason to believe, that he would have laid open new sources of knowledge, discovered new laws; and reduced to or- der those scattered, materials already known ; and that the whole study would have been simplified, and enriched by his labors. His method of teaching Anatomy was entirely analytical; and in this respect, peculiar, that he performed all his dissections in the presence of the class, demonstrating the different parts of the animal structure in succession, as they were enfolded by the knife. But this method, how- ever well suited to a private class in the dissecting room, causes too much confusion and delay to be practiced with success, while lecturing by one less dexterous and skilful than its author himself. Dr. Godman, in his manners, was plain, simple, and unostentatious ; yet he possessed that warmth and affability, which rendered him ac. cessible to all, and the delight of the social circle. His feelings in eve- ry thing were ardent and decided. He was devotedly attached to his friends—towards his enemies he was impatient, and felt keenly their revilings. In his conversation, he was fluent, and though unstudied, was often brilliant, and always full of point and power. He was particularly distinguished for simplicity, and directness in the uttering of his thoughts, which always indicated to those he addressed the absence of selfishness and concealment. No enigmatical expies- sions, no inuendoes, were ever heard from his lips. Dark and distant insinuations were his utter abhorrence. In whatever he said, and in whatever he did, he put forth his whole soul. He was always cheer- LI fill, and apparently happy, even amidst the deepest adversity, and the keenest suffering. When we consider the circumstances under which Dr. Godman made his way to the profession, and afterwards prosecuted his studies, the multiplicity of objects which he carried forward, and the honor he conferred on every department of science which he touched—when we consider the power of his intellect, the versatility of his genius, and the intensity of his application, we cannot but regard him as altogether an extraordinary personage, such an one as has seldom been permitted to dwell among men, to share their sympathies, and mingle in their eleva- ted pursuits. In view of his intellectual character, I cannot withhold the just and elegant tribute, which fell from the pen of that distinguished scholar and gentleman, Robert Walsh, Esq. at the time of Dr. Godman's decease; one who, above most others, knew his worth. " The tributes," says he, " which have been paid in the newspapers, to the late Dr. Godman, were especially due to the memory of a man, so variously gifted by nature,and so nobly distinguished by industry and zeal in the acquisition and advancement of science. He did not enjoy early opportunities of self improvement, but he cultivated his talents, as he approached manhood, with a degree of ardor and success, which sup- plied all deficiences; and he finally became one of the most accom- plished general scholars, and linguists, acute and erudite naturalists, ready, pleasing, and instructive lecturers and writers, of his country and era. The principal subject of his study was Anatomy in its main branches, in which he excelled in every respect. His attention was much directed also to Physiology, Pathology, and Natural History, with an aptitude and efficiency abundantly proved by the merits of his published works, which we need not enumerate. "We do not now recollect to have known any individual who inspir- ed us with more respect for his intellect and heart, than Dr. Godman; to whom knowledge and discovery appeared more abstractly precious; whose eye shed more of the lustre of generous and enlightened enthu- siasm ; whose heart remained more vivid and sympathetic, amid pro- fessional labor and responsibility, always extremely severe and urgent. Considering the decline of his health, for a long period, and the pressure of adverse circumstances, which he too frequently experienced, he per- formed prodigies as a student, an author, and a teacher ;—he prosecu- 12 ted extensive and diversified researches; composed superior disquisi- tions and reviews, and large and valuable volumes ; and in the great number of topics which he handled simultaneously, or in immediate succession, he touched none without doing himself credit, and produc- ing some new developement of light, or happy forms of expression. "He lingered for years under consumption of the lungs; understood fully the incurableness of his melancholy state ; spoke and acted with an unfeigned and beautiful resignation ; toiled at his desk to the last day of his thirty two years, still glowing with the love of science, and the domestic affections. The reputation, the writings, and the family of this victim of the most exalted ambition and refined propensities, should be greatly and widely cherished." But there remains another view to be taken of Dr. Godman, to which I have made no allusion:—1 refer to his moral and religious character; and though to some it may seem unsuited to the place and the occasion, I shall make no apology for exhibiting to the class, a trait of his character so admirable, so strongly drawn, and so worthy of imi- tation—and one which was his only solace in sickness, cheered him as he approached the valley of death, and shed light and immortality around his dying couch. It had been the misfortune of Dr. Godman, as that of many of the eminent members of our profession before him, to form his philosophical and religious opinions after the model of the French Naturalists of the last century ; the most distinguislred of whom were Deists and Atheists ; and such is man in his natural, his fallen condition, while surrounded by the most magnificent displays of Divine power and wisdom, and with his eyes directed to those verv ob- jects, and his attention arrested by those very Ltws which proclaim the existence, and the presence of an Almighty Power, that he overlooks and passes by the evidences they furnish of the existence of a Deity; and this, often under the specious, but delusive pretext of casting off the shackles of prejudice' and superstition, and of giving the reins to free, enlightened, and philosophical enquiry. It was the case with Dr- Godman; for while assisted by such lights as these, and guided alone in his investigations by perverted reason, he became as he tells us, an es- tablished infidel, rejecting revelation, and casting all the evidences of an existing God beneath his feet. It was not till the winter of 1827—while engaged in his course of lec- tures in Nrw-York. that he was arrested in his career. At this time an ^3 incident occurred which led him to a candid perusal of the Gospels, as contained in the New-Testament. It was a visit to a death bed ; the death bed of a Christian; the death bed of a Student of Medicine- There he saw what reason could not explain, nor philosophy fathom. He opened his Bible, and the secret was unfolded. From this time he became a devoted student of the Scriptures. How far they were made the efficient cause of his conversion to Christianity will best appear from his own eloquent pen. The following is an extract of a letter he addressed to a medical friend, Dr. Judson, of this City, a Surgeon in the Navy of the U. States, who was at that time in the last stage of consumption : Germaxtown, Dec. 25, 1828. " In relation to dying, my dear friend, you talk like a sick man, and just as 1 used to do, when very despondent; death is a debt we all owe to nature, and must eventually ensue from a mere wearing out of the ma- chine, if not from disease. The time when, makes no difference in the act of dying-to the individual; for after all, it terminates in corporeal insensibility, let the preceding anguish be never so severe. Nature certainly has a strong abhorrence to this cessation of corporeal action, and all animals have a dread of death, who are conscious of its approach. A part of our dread of death is purely physical, and is avoidable only by a philosophical conviction of its necessity; but the greater part of our dread, and the terrors with which the avenues to the grave are sur- rounded, are from another, and a more potent source. "'Tis conscience that makes cowards of us all," and forces us by our terrors to confess 1nat we dread something beyond physical dissolution, and that we are terrified, not at merely ceasing to breathe, but that we have not lived as we ought to have done, hav^ not effected the good that was within the compass of our abilities, and neglected to ex-rcise the talents we pos- sessed to the greatest advantage. The only remedy for this fear of death is to be sought by approaching the Author of all things, in the way prescribed by himself, and not according to our own foolish imag-i- nations Humiliation of pride, denial of self, subjection of evil tempers and dispositions, and an entire submission to his will for support and di- rection, are the best preparatives for such an approach. A perusal of lhe Gospels, in a spirit of real enquiry, after a iirection how to act, wil] certainly teach the way. In those Gospels the Saviour himself has preached his own doctrines, and he who runs may read. He has pre- scribed the course; he shows how the approval and mercy of God may 14 be won; he shows how awfully corrupt is man's" nature, and how dead- ly his pride and stubbornness of heart, which causes him to try every subterfuge to avoid the humiliating confession of his own weakness, ig- norance and folly. Bui the same blessed hand has stripped death o! all the terrors which brooded around the grave, *u I converted the gloomy receptacle of our mortal remains into the portal of life and light. Oh ! let me die the death of the righteous, kt my last end, and future state be like his." "This is all I know on the subject. I am no theologian, and have as o-reat an aversion to priestcraft as one can entertain. I was once an in- fidel as I told you in the West Indies. I became a christian from con- viction, produced by the candid enquiry re.commended to you. 1 know pf no other way in which death can be stripped of its terrors; certainly none better can be wished. Philosophy is a fool, and pride a mad- man. Many persons die with what is called manly firmness; that is, having acted a part all their lives according to their prideful creed, they must die game. They put on as smooth a face#as they can, to impose on the spectators, and di, firmly. But this is ali deception; the true state of their minds at the very tune, nine times out of ten is worse than the most horrible imaginings even of hell itself Some who have led lives adapted to sear their conscience, and petrify all the moral sen- sibilities, die with a kind of indifference, similar to that with »\hich a hardened convict submits to a new infliction of disgraceful punishment. But the man who dies as a man ought to die, is the humble mind-d, be- lieving christian; one who lias tasted and enjoyed all the blessings of creation, who has had an enlightened view of the wisdom and glory of his creator; who has felt the vanity of merely worldly pursuits and mo- tives, and been permitted to know the mercies of a blessed Redeemer, as he approaches the narrow house appointed for all the living. "Physical death may cause his senses to shrink and fail at the trial; but his mind, sustained by the Rock of Ages, is serene and unwavering. He relies not on his own righteousness, for that would be vain; but the arms of mercy are beneath him, the ministering spirits of the Omnipo- tent are around him.—He does not die manfully, but he rests iu Jesus; he blesses his friends, he casts his hope on one all powerful to sustain and mighty to save, then sleeps in peace. He is dead—but liveth—for He who is the Resurrection and the Life, has declared "Whoso believeth on me, though he were dead, yet shall he live." "And whosoever liv- eth and believeth in me shall never die." * * 15 This letter which so truly contrasts the death bed scene of the infidel with that of the christian, so beautifully portrays the history of the change which had been effected in Dr. Godman's own sentimerus and affections, and so clearly points the benighted wanderer to the true source of life and light, was not lost upon his friend to whom it was ad- dressed. It described his condition and it reached his heart. Dr. Judson, though religiously instructed when young, having a pious clergyman fi;r his father, and another for his elder brother,* yet he had long since freed himself from what he called the prejudices of educa- tion—the shackles of priest craft, and was ranging the fields of infideli ty. He had acquired wealth a.r.i reputatioa—was an estimable man in all the domestic relations of life, and a highly respected member of our profession; but the self denying doctrines of the Saviour were too hum- bling to his proud spirit, and he could not submit to their influence. At the time he received Dr. Godmau's letter,however,he was gloomy and des- pondent; looking forward with fearful forebodings to the period of his dissolution, which seened not far distant He had no confidence but that of tiie skeptic—no hope, hu I ha' of ceasing to be. Awareofthe fatal namre oC the di-ase undi-r which he had lingered for years, he had long been ar,ni'i_c h.m-eif to meet die king of terrors with compos- ure, that he n.ight (iie like a philosopher—" with manly firmness;" but as he drew nearer to the grave, the clouds and darkness thickened around him, and he began to fear that there might be something beyond this narrow prison. He had hitiierto refused all religious intercourse, but now his infidel faith began to give way, and he enquired with solici- tude, " is there such a thing as the new birth, and if so, in what does it consist?" He was directed to the Gospels for the answer. Heat length consented to make the investigation recommended by Dr. God- man. He took up the New-Testament and read it in the spirit of can- did enquiry. A conviction of the tru'h of its doctrines fastened upon him. He now solicited the advice and prayers of a pious clergyman. Yet he could not consent to relinquish the sentiments which he had so long cherished, without the clearest proof, and he disputed every inch of ground with great acu'eness and ability ; but the truth was exhibited by this venerable divine, with such force and simplicity, that it over- came every argument he could produce, and he saw clearly the folly of his skeptical opinions. The clouds were dissipated, light broke in upon his mind, and he was enabled to take hold of the promises. The * Dr. Judson, the distinguished Missionary, now in India 16 remaining days of his life were devoted to fervent prayer, and the con- stant study of the scriptures, which filled his soul with divine compos- ure, and enabled him to rely with undoubting confidence on the infinite merits of his Redeemer, and with hi* last breath to cry, " peace, peace." If he did not die with "manly firmness," he " rested in Jesus." The exercises of such a mind as that of Dr. Godman's, during a long period of affliction, cannot fail to be interesting, as well to the philoso- pher as to the christian, and more especially, as expressed by himself. I shall therefore present a few brief extracts from some of his corres- pondence of that period. Philadelphia, February 17, 1829. "My dear friend, Since my last to you my health has suffered various and most afflicting changes. The unusual severity of the weather, and other scarcely perceptible causes, induced an attack of inflammation in the dis- eased lung, which in my enfeebled condition, required more of depletion and reduction of diet, than could be readily borne; hemorrhage ensued on the third or fourth day, which relieved the local affection considera- bly, and by the aid of blistering frequently, and perfect rest, I gradually amended; still the great suffering caused by the mental and corporeal debility, were beyond any thing ever before experienced by me; even after the active condition of disease was checked. But thanks to the mercies of Him who is alone able to save, the valley and shadow of death were stripped of their terrors and the descent to the grave was smoothed before me. Relying on the mercies and in Snite merits of a Saviour, had it pleased God to have called me then, I believe I should have died in a peaceful, humble confidence. But I have been restored to a state of comparative health, perhaps nearly to the condition I was when I wrote to Dr. Judson; and I am again allowed to think of the education of my children, and the support of my family. * * * * Believe me truly your friend, Professor Sewall. J. D. GODMAN." In answer to a suggestion which I made to him, of the propriety of leaving behind him a memoir of his life, he says: "It has long been my intention, as my life has been a curious one, to put a short account of it together, for the benefit of my children and others." * * * * It appears, however, from some lines which he wrote at a later period .ff his life, that he never accomplished this object; for in a manu- 17 script volume which he sent to a friend, and which he intended to fill with original pieces of his own composition, he writes as follows: "Did I not in all things feel most thoroughly convinced that the over- ruling of our plans by an all wise Providence is always for good, I might regret that a part of my plan cannot be executed. This was to relate a few curious incidents from among the events of my most singularly guided life, which, in addition to mere novelty or peculiarity of character, could not have failed practically to illustrate the importance of inculcating cor- rect religious and moral principles, and imbuing the mind therewith from the very earliest dawn of intellect; from the very moment that the utter imbecility of infancy begins to disappear! May His holy will be done, who can raise up abler advocates to support the truth! This is my first attempt to write in my token—why may it not be the last? Oh should it be, believe me, that the will of God will be most acceptable. Notwithstanding the life of neglect, sinfulness, and perversion of heart, which I so long led, before it pleased Him to dash all my idols in the dust, I feel an humble hope in the boundless mercy of our blessed Lord and Saviour, who alone can save the soul from merited condemnation. Ma) it be in the power of those who chance to read these lines to say Into thy hands I commend my spirit, for thou hast redeemed me! oh Lord! thou God of Truth." On communicating to Dr. Godman an account of the last moments of his friend Dr. Judson, he responds in the following feeling and beautiful manner : Germantown, May 21, 1829. My dear friend, " I feel very grateful for your attention in sending me an account of our dear Judson's last moments. After all his doubts, difficulties, and mental conflicts, to know that the Father of Mercies was pleased to open his eyes to the truth, and shed abroad in his heart the love and sal- vation offered through the Redeemer, is to me a source of the purest gratification, and a cause of the most sincere rejoicing. The bare pos- sibility of my having been even slightly instrumental in effecting the blessed change of mind he experienced, excites in me emotions of grati- tude to the source of all good, which words cannot express. "I am afraid you did not examine his lungs after death. It is much to be regretted that the body of any Physician should be interred without examination. They owe the example to their surviving friends, and I should be far more grieved, to think that my body should fee buried with- 3 18 out examination, than to know that it would be left in the open air with- out the rites of sepulture." * * * That love of science, that professional ardour which dictated the foregoing sentiment, and which still continued to burn with a vivid flame, it would seem neither lessened the sensibilities of his heart, nor diminish ed his dependence upon his Saviour. Indeed there was nothing of that monkish austerity, nothing of that gross materialism in his belief, which caused him to hover over the gloom of the grave, and to cling to the crumbling and lifeless tenement of the soul after the spirit has fled. His religion was too spiritual and elevated, his communion with his Saviour too intimate, and his assurance of a blessed immortality too strong, to permit him to indulge such degraded and narrow views. In the same letter he adds: "My health has been in a very poor condition, since my last to you. My cough and expectoration have been generally bad, and my body is ema- ciated to a very great degree. The warm weather now appears to have set in, and possibly I may improve a Hole, otherwise it will not be long before I follow our lately departed friend. Let me participate in the prayers you offer for the sick and afflicted, and may God grant me strength to die to his honor and glory, in the hopes and constancy de- rived from the merits and atonement of the blessed Saviour. With my best wishes for your health and prosperity, I remain sincerely yours, Professor Sewall. J. D. GODMAN." Philadelphia, Oct. 6, 1829. uMy dear friend, My health is, as for a considerable time, past, in a very tolera- ble condition; that is, I can set up a great part of the day writing or reading without much injury. My emaciation is great, and though not very rapid, is steady, so that the change in my strength takes place al- most imperceptibly. On the whole, though I suffer greatly compared with persons in health, yet so gently have the chastenings of the Lord fallen upon me, that I am hourly called upon for thankfulness and grati- tude, for his unfailing mercies. Equal cause have I had for rejoicing, that I have learned to put my whole trust in Him; as he has raised me up help and friends, in circumstances which seemed to render even hope impossible, and has blessed me and mine, with peace and content in the midst of all afflictions, trials and adversity. Knowing experimentally the value of implicit submission of all thoughts and desires to his most holy will; it is no small source of dis- 19 tress to me, to see how many of my most valued friends live in the ha- bitual neglect of a happiness so pure, so attainable, and admirable." * * Dr. Godman's religious feelings though ardent, were not bigoted. In him religion was not that cold, selfish and narrow principle, which shut out from his confidence, all not of hi-> own faith; nor did it consist in a loud profession of a particular doctrine or creed. It was the religion of the heart, deep, sincere, and as comprehensive as the charity of Heaven; embracing all the humble, faithful, and really good of every sect and denomination of Christians. In the concluding part of the above letter after speaking of the different religious denominations in terms of great liberality and candour, he says: "However, I find all really religious persons to be of one mind. Those who have drank at the undefiled spring of truth, as set forth in the New Testament, without obscuration of human creeds or tradition, I have never found to differ in any respect that was of the slightest im- portance, and therefore with such persons, however called, I can always communicate advantageously." * * * Sincerely your friend, Professor Sewall. J. D. GODMAN." His strong and practical v'.e.vs of the authenticity of Christianity, are clearly exhibited in the following extract, which he wrote not long before his death : " Is proof wanting that these gospels are true ? It is only necessary for an honest mind to read them candidly to be convinced. Every occur- rence is stated clearly, simply, and unostentatiously The narrations are not supported by asseverations of their truth, nor by parade of wit- nesses: the circumstances described took place in presence of vast mul- titudes, and are told in that downright unpreten ing manner, which would have called for h in ;umerabie positive contradictions had they be< n untrue My series ok,- ' which cheered the student, and guided tn^ -teps in. the pa-hi >l .vji. »c , vaich delighted the social, and shed joy am gladness ai.-utul :•■>■ -iomestic circle, is silent in the grave, cease not to emulate t iat no'»i ■ love of truth, that simplicity of character, that honesty of intention, ttia; piety and benevolence of heart, which lighted up his path way, and stripped the avenues to the grave of its terrors. Do this and you may look be- yond the gloom of the sepulchre to the bright abode of his departed spirit, and there with him hope to rest. 23 Note.—The rich imagination and deep toned enthusiasm of Dr. Godman sometimes burst forth in impassioned poetry. The following are specimens of his composition of this kind,—and presentf a picture of his meditation.s in view of his approaching dissolution: A MIDNIGHT MEDITATION. 'Tis midnight's solemn hour ! now wide unfurled Darkiiess expands her mantle o'er the world ; The fir -II v'? lamp has ceased its fitful gleam; The cricket's chirp is hushed ; the boding scream Of the gray owl is stilled ; the lofty trees Scarce wave their summits to the failing breeze; All nature is at rest, or seems to sleep ; 'Tis thine alone, oh man ! to watch and weep ! Thine 'tis to feel thy system's sad decay, As flares the taper of thy life away Beneath the influence of fell disease :— Thine 'tis to know the want of mental ease Springi ncr from memory of time misspent; Of slighted bk-ssings ; deepest discontent And riotoi s rebellion 'gainst the laws Of health, truth, heaven, to win the world's applause ! —Such was thy course, Eugenio, such thy hardened heart, Till mercy spoke, and death unsheathed the dart, Twanged his unerring bow, and drove the steel, Too deep to be withdrawn, too wide the wound to heal; Yet left of life a feebly glimmering ray, Slowly to aink and gently ebb away. —And yet, how blest am I? While myriad others lie In agony, of fever or of pain, With parching tongue and burning eye, Or fiercely throbbing brain; My feeble frame, though spoiled of rest, Is not of comfort disposses'd. My mind a vake, looks up to Thee, Father of mercy ! whose blest hand I see In all things acting for our good, Howe'erthy mercies be misunderstood. —See where the waning moon Slowly surmounts \on dark tree tops. 24 Her light increases steadily, and soon The solemn night her stole of darkness drops; Thus to my sinking soul in hours of gloom, The cheering beams of hope resplendent come, Thus the thick clouds which sin and sorrow rear Are changed to brightness, or swift disappear. Hark! that shrill note proclaims approacffing day ; The distant east is streaked with lines of gray ; Faint warblings from the neighboring groves arise, The tuneful tribes salute the brightening skies. Peace breathes around ; dim visions o'er me creep, The weary night outwatched, thank God ! I too may sleep. Lines written under a feeling of the immediate approach of Death. The damps of death are on my brow, The chill is in my heart, My blood has almost ceased to Row, My hopes of life depart; The valley and the shadow before me open wide, But Thou, Oh Lord ! even there wilt be my guardian and ray guide, For what is pain if Thou art nigh its bitterness to quell 1 And where death's boasted victory, his last triumphant spell? Oh ! Saviour in that hour when mortal strength is nought, When nature's agony comes on, and every anguished thought Springs in the breaking heart a source of darkest woe, Be nigh unto my soul, nor permit the floods o'erflow. To The ! to Thee alone ! dare I raise my dying eyes; Thou didst for all atone, by thy wondrous sacrifice ; Oh ! in thy mercy's richness extend thy smiles on me, And let my soul outspeak thy praise, throughout eternity !