work, it may flourish in my hands; but if I should become negligent, and backslide, a reproach would follow, Christians be weakened, and sinners hardened.' The sequel of his life shows that he held on his way, and was rendered a blessing to many souls. His first labors in the ministry of reconciliation were bestowed on the Litchfield circuit. His general deportment was such, his preaching, and faithful atten, tion to the various duties of his station, both public and private, that he soon won the affection and confidence of God's people, and commanded the respect of all who knew him; and what was of incomparably greater importance, God owned his efforts in this work, and made him an instrument in the conversion of souls. It is not our intention to follow brother Smith minutely from one circuit to another, and from one appointment to another, as this course would involve a tiresome monotony of events and incidents, not at all interesting to the general reader, nor indeed profitable to any.

In 1812 he was received into the New-York conference, and we find him stationed on the New-Haven circuit. In 1813 he was stationed on the Litchfield circuit, and it was here that the writer of this article first became acquainted with him. The New-Haven station falling vacant in the course of the year, at the earnest request of the brethren in that place brother Smith was sent by the presiding elder to fill the station.

The society in New-Haven was at that time small and extremely feeble, and surrounded with a variety of difficulties, and not a few enemies. Young as was brother Smith, and intricate as were the difficulties with which he had to contend, he entered upon his work with that loving zeal and sound discretion which distinguish men of more advanced knowledge and experience; and by the fervency of his prayers, his affectionate and frequent intercourse with the people of his charge, as well as by the solemnity of his general demeanor, and evangelical nature of his pulpit labors, he bore down all opposition, won the confidence of all who estimated the worth of his character, and bound the hearts of God's people to him in the strong ties of Christian love. The Discipline of the Church, which had sat but loosely on the shoulders of the people, in his hand was made to press upon them in such a manner as not to scatter them asunder, but to compress them together as a band of brothers. In his administration was most eminently exemplified that apostolic precept, 'If any man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual restore such a one in the spirit of meekness, considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted.' There was no harsh and unfeeling severity-no menacing attitude, assumed for the unmanly purpose of frightening delinquents into an acquiescence with Scriptural requisitions-no haughty airs, which are often affected by lordly dictators over the judgment and consciences

of others for the cowardly purpose of forcing obedience. On the contrary, brother Smith seemed to move in an atmosphere of Divine love, and evinced the easy practicability of uniting in the same mind the most inflexible firmness with that meekness and gentleness of deportment which characterize and adorn the sanctified Christian. Under such an administration, it could not well be otherwise than that the cause of Jesus Christ should prosper. Though in New-Haven there were only about fifty members in the Church, and not more than two or three class leaders, when the presiding elder visited him he always found every thing in the most perfect order. The quarterly conference was regularly attended; the love-feast and sacrament of the Lord's Supper duly observed; and all seemed to hail brother Smith as a pastor after God's own heart,' and as a shepherd whose voice they delighted to hear and obey. On referring to the Minutes of the Conferences for 1814 and 1815, we find the number increased from fifty-five whites and eleven colored, to ninety-two whites and eighteen colored; and although this may be considered but a small increase in comparison to what has been witnessed in many other places, yet considering the inauspicious circumstances under which he commenced his labors, the prejudices he had to encounter, and the little help afforded him in the society, which had been for a long time in a languishing state, we may consider this as a victory worthy of being recorded; and we verily believe, that, to the faithful administration of the word of God and of the ordinances and discipline, and his judicious management of the affairs of the Church, the diligent and affectionate manner in which he visited the families of his charge from house to house,' is owing that thriving and healthy state of the Church which is now witnessed in the city of New-Haven; and could he have been continued longer in that charge, we have no doubt that the declension which was soon afterward mourned over might have been avoided.

We have fixed upon this place particularly to exhibit the prominent features of his character, and the usefulness of his labors, in preference to any other, not because he was less assiduous elsewhere, or less beneficially employed; but, first, because we had an opportunity of observing him more closely while there; and, secondly, because his active labors soon thereafter were ended.

The next year he was removed to Hotchkisstown, a small place in the vicinity of New-Haven. He entered upon his work in this place with the same conscientious diligence which he had displayed before, and with the like success. It was while here that he received that physical wound which terminated his career of usefulness in the Church militant, and finally put a period to his mortal existence. While attending a camp meeting, which was held in the month of September in 1815, in the town of Burlington, Connecticut, he

seemed to receive a new baptism from heaven, which impelled him to exert himself beyond his usual manner. Many will never forget the awful sensations which were produced on the congregation, while assembled around the stand on the last evening of the meeting, when brother Smith lifted up his voice on high, and in the name of God announced His speedy coming to possess the hearts of His people, and to bring sinners to repentance. This effort was too great for his feeble frame. The organs of speech were radically injured; and taking soon after a violent cold, which settled upon the lungs, he was never more able to utter a loud word. Though he so far recovered his health as to be able to attend to some secular concerns, and to visit his friends, he could only interchange thoughts and sentiments in low and inaudible whispers. That voice which, at the camp meeting above mentioned, shook the heavens and the earth-and the utterance of whose words, through the agency of the Holy Spirit, penetrated the hearts of all who heard the sound thereof,'-was now hushed in silence: but the fire, which still burned in the heart, found a vent in the indistinct whisperings of the lips, while it sparkled in the eyes, and glowed on his expressive countenance. Once we saw him while in this afflicted situation; and though he could not return our salutation with audible sounds, the hearty shake of the hand, the heavenly smile which played on the countenance, and the fond and softened cast of the eye, gave no less sure indications of the affectionate emotions of the heart. There was, indeed, a certain something in his whole deportment which bespoke a soul full of God, and ripening fast for glory. Even at this distance of time, his image, emaciated as it was, seems to rise before the mind's eye like one who was soon to be transplanted to a richer soil, there to bloom in eternal youth! Such was GAD SMITH. And though there may be thousands equal to him in worth, yet we have rarely seen any one in whom seemed to concentrate so many excellencies, unalloyed with any blemishes, except such as are inseparable from humanity. When we have beheld him-and even now when we think of him as he was-we can call nothing to mind which we would have desired otherwise, so exactly did he answer our views of the perfect and upright man—unless, indeed, it be that mighty and last public effort which deprived the Church and the world of the brightness of such an example, and the blessed effects of his public ministrations. But even here we pause, and demur at any censure which we might be tempted to cast upon him, because he was in the hands of Him who is 'too wise to err, and too good to be unkind.' To His awful decree, therefore, we bow with submission, in this instance of human frailty; not knowing but that Gad Smith slew more at his death than he had done in all his life,' or more than he might have done had he

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lived to three-score years and ten.? His voice and example still speak in the ears of thousands!

In the enfeebled state in which we are contemplating him, he lingered along the shores of time, gradually ripening for immortal glory, when his disorder terminated in a scrofulous swelling in each side of his neck, which finally put an end to his sufferings, on the 24th of September, 1817. That he was fully prepared to enter into his Master's joy,' all the acts of his life from the time of his conversion to God, as well as the submissive manner in which he bowed to the afflictive strokes of Divine Providence, amply testify.

A few reflections upon the character of our departed brother will close what we have to say of him; and we add these chiefly because they may afford an instructive lesson to those junior preachers who may come after him. To say that he was pious and zealous, is to say nothing to distinguish him from thousands of others who were equally pious and zealous. Nor is it easy, from the view we have of his character, to fix on any particular trait by which he was eminently distinguished from others, unless it be a certain characteristic meekness of mind, and gentleness of deportment, by which he wound himself into the affections of all who knew him; and this joined with an inflexibility of purpose to do that which he perceived to be right and proper to be done. But that which gave a finish to all his words and actions, and by which he commanded the confidence of those with whom he had intercourse, was the evident sincerity with which he spoke and acted.

This, namely sincerity of heart, is reckoned among the cardinal virtues of a good man; and this evinced itself on all occasions in the words and actions of brother Gad Smith. To that maneuvering to which the wily politician may think it expedient to resort for the accomplishment of his purposes, he never resorted; but seemed to act on the well-known and often repeated proverb, that 'honesty is the best policy.' Hence the sarcastic smile, the contemptuous scowl, and the bitter compression of the lips, assumed by the artful demagogue, which seem to indicate to the observing mind a secret design to impose upon the credulity of the unsuspicious, never deformed the placid and serene countenance of this sincere servant of Jesus Christ. Whatever some may expect to accomplish by the ingenious exercise of this instrument of deception, the man armed with the weapons of a firm trust in God, with the testimony of a conscience which bears witness, that in simplicity and godly sincerity' he has had his conversation in the world,' disdains to stoop to any such arts to effect his purposes, but resolutely confides in the goodness of his cause, and the integrity of his heart.

So far as we could judge, drawing our conclusions from the fruits

which appeared in his spirit and general movements, brother Smith always acted under the influence of an honest desire to ascertain and promulgate the truth as it is in Jesus.' Hence, when he spoke, you knew what he meant; and when he acted, you might take it for granted that some just, good, or benevolent object, was to be accomplished.

This predominant sentiment of his heart was particularly manifest when in the pulpit-that awful place,' in which a quirk or merry turn' appears so contemptible. Though he was never boisterous either in or out of the pulpit, yet he always spoke forth the words of truth and soberness,' persuading the people to be reconciled to God, by the most powerful of all eloquence, the eloquence of truth, sincerely and affectionately addressed to the understanding and conscience. In him there was no rant-no disgusting rodomontade-no incoherent rhapsody-for the vain purpose of producing a momentary effect, by moving the lighter passions of the heart. On the contrary, all was solemn, sound, and orthodox, tender and affectionate; and yet so plain and pointed, that each one could understand, and be edified, while he felt as if the truth was aimed directly at his heart.

There was, indeed, a certain something in his manner, which we know not how adequately to describe; but which made all who were in his presence feel as if they were in contact with a man whose only wish was to do them good-that his primary object was to seek their present and eternal happiness. Hence, when you heard him pray or preach, there was no pitiful drawback upon your faith, as though you were asking yourself, Does this man believe what he says?' Whether what he uttered were true or false, you felt assured that the speaker himself believed it. This was proclaimed by the sincerity and earnestness of his manner-by the solemnity of his countenance— the intonations of his voice-and all the gestures of his body.

Another branch of that amiableness of mind by which he was distinguished was the modest deference with which he treated others, and more especially his superiors in office. He seemed to act under the constant conviction, that his own judgment should be submitted to the revision of his brethren; and that it was his duty to exemplify the precept of the apostle, which says, ' And ye younger, submit yourselves to the elder; yea, all of you be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility.' To those who were appointed to watch over him in the Lord, he ever paid the most respectful deference, not because he had no judgment of his own, but because he wished to test the accuracy and soundness of his own conclusions by submitting them to the decision of others; and though he might feel himself bound to dissent from their decision, it was always with that modesty and diffidence so becoming a fallible being, and yet with that enlightened firmness,