An Address

DELIVERED AT

ST. LUKE'S CHURCH, RACINE, WIS., OCTOBER 25TH, 1854, .

AT THE FUNERAL OF

MRS. MARY BREWSTER PARK.

BY THE

REV. JOSEPH H. NICHOLS, A. M.,

RECTOR OF THE PARISH.

WE all assemble this day, my brethren, as mourners. Not alone a husband bereaved of the beloved wife of his bosom, and an aged parent of a dutiful and most filial daughter, and a group of children of a tender and affectionate mother, not these alone, though the chief ones, are the mourners here present. You, people of my charge, have also your tears to shed. And I, your pastor, have mine. God in his wisdom has smitten us all in a tender place; and while we kiss the hand that sends the chastisement, we meet here in this sacred temple to mingle our sympathies together, to comfort each other, and to gather that strength and patience and submission which the blessed Gospel alone inspires; and to learn from her whose mortal form is before us;

where so much virtue, piety, and worth, were once insphered, ere we lay it in the tomb, how to live and how to die!

She whose premature and unexpected removal from her family and from society, we so deeply lament, I can say without fear of contradiction, was a true Christian lady. Of honorable parentage, well educated, gentle in manners, she added to a natural refinement of heart that higher and chaster delicacy which nothing but Christian principle and the performance of Christian duty can bestow. As a clergyman's wife, she knew what became her; and though affable and courteous to all, she allowed no dictation as to what she should or should not do, but followed that line of conduct which her own native good sense, enlightened by the Holy Spirit, told her was best and right. As the wife of a parish priest, while she was ready to suggest or to carry out every good work, while she had an open heart and an open hand for the poor, while she did what she could for the far-distant missionary at his solitary post of duty in our own or in foreign lands, she felt that her own true sphere, like every woman's sphere, was her home. She felt that she was the helpmate of her husband, and that a sacred obligation was resting upon her to make his household hearth pleasant to him; to render cheerfully the hospitalities of his mansion; to study his comfort; to more than divide with him the training up of their children, and by her own order and method at home, to conduce to the greater usefulness of her partner abroad; and by being herself the faithful shepherd over her own little flock within the domestic fold, to strengthen the hands, to ease the burthens, to lighten the cares of him

who was the shepherd of that spiritual flock over which God had appointed him.

Such was she as a clergyman's wife in that distant village of New England which was her husband's first and only parish, which parish from a low and almost extinct condition he revived and built up; and in the successful raising of which with very small and feeble materials, she was an efficient, a judicious, a cheerful and an untiring handmaid and helper. There she was universally beloved and honored, there she will be ever tenderly remembered; and now that she is no more, will be fondly mourned over as one who combined in herself, to a rare degree, the gifts and graces that should adorn a woman.

And when in the ordering of God's Providence, her husband resigned his pastoral charge, and removed to these western shores, and entered upon the high and responsible office of President of Racine College, though her sphere became a new and wider one, she filled it well. As you all have seen and known, she shone in her orbit. She was the dignified mistress of her mansion, and gracefully performed the honors of her station. Kind to her neighbors, ever given to hospitality, glad to welcome the clerical brethren for their office and their Master's sake, ever doing good to somebody in a modest and quiet way; in the cold and inclemency of winter anxious to supply the poor with food, and raiment, and fuel; always showing a deep and maternal interest in the college student; literary in her tastes, and an ardent admirer of all that was sublime and beautiful in nature, and graceful in art, she grew more and more conspicuous in the new field of duty in which she moved.

In ceasing to be the pastor and the rector's wife, and becoming a simple parishioner, I found her a model, which would to God, every female of my charge would follow. Her piety was deep, and it was therefore cheerful, modest, and consistent. It was, too, always devising something good for the church, and was thoroughly practical. She did not talk much about what she was going to do, or what ought to be done, but she acted. Having her full share of domestic duties to occupy her, she ever found time for doing something for our Zion. But for her zeal when others were cold; but for her resolution when others were relaxing; but for her steady, undaunted perseverance when others were putting on discouraging looks and uttering discouraging words,of which class there are too many who afflict and dishonor every congregation, and mortify every pastor,but for these noble and generous qualities in this true daughter of the church, the recent graceful improvements in this holy temple would have scarcely been begun or matured, however long and earnestly your pastor might have demanded them. In coming to the west, she did not lay aside, as so many do, her eastern energy, promptness, and determination to carry through what her judgment told her was right, and what her church needed, whether its temporal or spiritual interests were concerned. Would that I had more like her! Ready to plan, ready to do, ready to give, ready to go on to the end, ready to strengthen her clergyman's hands and not weaken them, in every scheme and meas ure for the sure building up of God's kingdom here and wherever immortal souls are to be nurtured and saved!

So she lived. And how she died, I might tell you, with all the afflicting particulars. But they are too touching, too sacred for public recital. I will only say that when the painful task devolved upon her husband to announce to her, that she could live only a few hours more, the intelligence took her by surprise, but it did not alarm or discompose her. She was perfectly calm and serene. One by one, she tenderly bade farewell to those whom she most fondly loved, and tranquilly took her departure for the heavenly country.

The sudden removal of such a woman, so discreet and exemplary, so useful in her family, in society, and in the household of God, is a loss indeed. Her husband, her children, her surviving parent, her absent sisters and brothers, her church, her pastor, will miss her more and more. As one intent upon life's daily duties, or kneeling before this altar, we shall see her no longer. But she has gone to higher and holier enjoyments than earth bestows. She has entered upon that world where she will enjoy the new ministrations of the temple not made with hands. Disburdened of the flesh, her spirit is walking in the Paradise of the Saviour, blessed, yet waiting for the perfect consummation and bliss both of body and soul in God's eternal glory, through Christ Jesus her Lord. With the leaf of autumn fading and falling in hectic glory, has she faded in spiritual beauty away from our sight, to be gathered to the tomb. But as sure as that leaf will be renewed in another spring, after the chill, and torpor, and barrenness of winter, and as sure as the parent branch will put on, in a few more months, a new and fresher verdure in the resurrection of nature, so will her form in the resurrection of the