THE LIFE OF THE DEPARTED:

A SERMON
OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH
OF THE
REV. JOSEPH CRANDAL
OF SALISBURY

PREACHED IN THE BAPTIST CHAPEL,
GERMAIN STREET, CITY OF ST. JOHN,

BY THE REV. I. E. BILL
MARCH 7, 1858.

Know ye not, that there is a prince and a great man fallen this
day in Israel?
2 SAM. III. 38.

Published by Request.

SAINT JOHN, N.B.
PRINTED BY BARNED AND COMPANY,
66 PRINCE WILLIAM STREET





THE LIFE OF THE DEPARTED.

Your Fathers, where are they? Your Prophets, do they live
forever?
ZECHARIAH 1:5

The time was when Jehovah commanded his prophet Isaiah to
make a public announcement. What was the import of the message
with which the prophet was charged? Was it that a new world had
been created? or that some new law was about to the introduced
by the Supreme Divinity, which should give direction to the
destiny of empire? Nay. He has a declaration to make, which was
suited to the case and experience of every son and daughter of
Adam; and the truth of which would be confirmed in the history
of universal man. “The voice said, Cry; and he said, What shall
I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as
the flower of the field; the grass withereth, the flower fadeth,
because the Spirit of the Lord bloweth upon it: surely the
people is grass.” What a solemn proclamation! What an impressive
spectacle! Entire humanity withering, drooping, dying, under the
righteous indignation of a sin-avenging God! “Dust to dust,” is
indelibly inscribed upon our physical nature, as God’s
unchanging law. To this law, the wisest, holiest, and best of
men must bow in humble submission, as well as the most polluted
and degraded of the race. From its sovereign authority there is
no exemption. The bright and glorious stars that shone with so
much lustre in the religious firmament of other days, have long
since been extinguished in the darkness of the sepulchre.
Righteous Noah lived to witness the burial and resurrection of a
world; but at length was compelled to submit to the reign of
death. The fathers and prophets of Old Testament renown, who in
their day proclaimed God’s law, unfolded the mysteries of his
will, and stood boldly forth in vindication of his truth, all
fell in this mighty conflict. So in all succeeding ages, those
who have served their sovereign Lord in all fidelity, and
devoted their best energies to the highest interests of mankind,
have passed like others to the land of shadows. Such is the
decree of heaven. The mysterious cords which connect matter and
mind must be severed. “It is appointed unto man once to die.”
And die he must—the good as well as the bad must feel their
“heartstrings break.”

“The tall, the wise, the reverend head,
Must lie as low as ours.”

Your Fathers, where are they? your prophets, do they live
for ever? Inspiration propounds these questions. What shall we
say? Where are the fathers? Their bodies are in their graves. Do
the prophets live? All that was mortal of them is dead. But they
are nevertheless alive. Their souls are alive—their characters
are alive; these can never die.

The thought which my text suggests, and to which I invite
your prayerful consideration, is, THE LIFE OF THE DEPARTED, OR
THE LIVING DEAD.

The popular idea is, that when man dies, his work on earth
terminates. This, in one sense, is true; but, in another, it is
not true. You may cover up a man’s body in the grave; but you
cannot confine his influence to these narrow limits. Man’s
character is immortal. Our words and our actions reverberate
through all succeeding ages; and their echoes are repeated amid
the solemn scenes of eternity. Man, as he passes through the
world, inscribes his name in imperishable lines upon its
tablets; and these will be read and re-read by those who come
after him; and every reading will make its impression, and exert
its influence, for weal or for woe—for life or for death—for
heaven or for hell. This is true of the wicked as well as the
just. Cain speaks as well as Abel. We hear them both, and are
influenced by the testimony which they give. The utterance of
once is a word of awful warning; but the language of the other
is full of consolation and hope. It is true of every man that
has slept in death from the days of Adam, that “he being dead
yet speaketh,” no matter where he lived, or when he died. He may
have dwelt amid the splendours of a gorgeous palace, or have
occupied a hut in the wilderness; he may have swayed the
destinies of empire, or have been ruled with a rod of iron; he
may have luxuriated in boundless wealth, or have felt the
crushing power of pinching poverty. Still, when he departed this
life, he transmitted an influence to his successors, which can
never be extinguished.

There is no such thing as a perfect blank in human life. We
cannot be neutral if we would. The author of our being has so
linked us in association with those around us, that we must
necessarily live and act in them and through them, when our
bodies have returned to dust. Such is the law of our being, and
from this law there is no appeal.

How awfully impressive, therefore, are the responsibilities
of life—the life of a Christian—the life of a sinner. It is a
solemn thing to die; but is it not equally solemn to live? Death
is solemn, because it is the gateway to eternity. Life is
solemn, because it is a preparation for eternity, and because it
is all the time uttering words, and performing acts which are
invested with the attributes of immortality.

We all know the anxiety of men to be remembered after
death. Warriors, statesmen, poets, philosophers, and divines,
are all the subjects of this aspiration. It seems to be an
inherent element in human nature, and is cherished to a greater
or less extent by all. And man will be remembered. No epitaph
may mark the spot where his body lies; but he has been rearing
monuments around him all through life, more enduring than
marble; and though he die, and turn to dust, these monuments
will live, and they will speak, too, with a power that shall
mould and fashion human character, and give direction to human
destiny.

It were easy to illustrate this fact, by calling up those
of past generations. Abel lives in the sacrifice which he
presented when he offered the firstlings of his flock, as
typical of the sacrifice of the Cross. Enoch lives in the purity
of a spotless life; Noah, in his marvellous preservation amid
the wide waste of waters by virtue of his obedience to God.
Abraham lives, in the power of a matchless faith; Joseph, in the
unsullied purity which resisted temptation. Moses, in his
renunciation of the honours and treasures of an Egyptian court,
for the sake of a connection with the despised and persecuted
people of God. Elijah, in the omnipotence of prevailing prayer.
Job, in a patient submission to the will of his God, when
stripped of all earthly comforts. David, in those choice
utterances of his own experience, which have been the comfort of
the Church in all ages. Isaiah, in the glowing strains of his
evangelical prophecy. Jeremiah, in his weeping lamentations over
a rebellious people. Daniel, in the undaunted courage of a
religious integrity. And Habakkuk, in his importunity for the
revival of God’s work.

The holy Apostles still live in their apostolic acts, in
their mighty triumphs over the powers of darkness, and in their
inspired utterances to the Church and to the world. The dead
martyrs encompass the pathway of the living Church, by the light
and glory of their self-sacrificing example in life, and by
their fidelity to the truth amid the shame and torture of an
ignominious death.

Martin Luther sleeps in the dust of Wittenburg, but he
nevertheless lives in the spirit of the glorious Reformation
kindled by his instrumentality. The voices of Calvin and
Melancthon are still ringing loud and loud through all the
congregations of the redeemed. Shakespeare, Milton, Young, and
Kirk White, still live in “thoughts that breath and words that
burn.” The eloquent and successful preachers of other days yet
live in the subduing influence of the sermons which aroused
multitudes from the slumber of sin, to call upon the name of the
Lord.

An elegant writer has said, “The earth is a vast whispering
gallery, and the centuries are but telegraphic wires, which
convey the thoughts of one age to another. The nineteenth
century sits at one end of the electric telegraph, and the first
century at this other; and the former hears transmitted to it
lessons from the latter, that mould and shape it for heaven—for
happiness or woe.”

Nothing that ever man says or does is annihilated. Its
duration is coeval with the immortality of the soul. Professor
Babbage, an able writer says, “The air is one vast library, on
whose pages are forever written all that man has ever said, or
woman ever whispered.” It is an understood principle in
philosophy, that the pebble thrown into the sea, will produce
its undulations as long as the sea endures; and that the blow
struck, will transmit its vibrations through all succeeding
ages. So with the words and deeds of men. The influence they
exert will live on, making their impress of the minds and
characters of humanity, while time lasts, or eternity endures.
The brave Havelock fought his last battle, and went to his
grave, with many laurels upon his sainted brow; but his heroic
acts in the war camp, and on the battle-field, and above all,
his deeds of self-sacrificing piety and religious devotion,
speak as with trumpet-tongues to the living, and will continue
to do so, until the funeral fires of the last day shall kindle
upon these lower grounds, and the earth and all things that are
therein shall be burned up. How truthfully has the Apostle said,
“No man liveth to himself, or dieth to himself.” In life and in
death we are bound up with others, and through them transmit
ourselves from age to age. Coronets, station, rank, riches,
honours, are all temporary and fleeting; but character bears the
impress of immortality.

How many ways there are of living after death; some of
course that are much more impressive than others. Your
magnificent paintings, so true to life; the monuments in your
grave yards, and in your public places; and the institutions
founded by the spirit of benevolence, are all invested with the
mysterious power of life, and exert their influence for good or
for evil. But the most effective mode is probably through the
wondrous power of the press. Thousands of years have passed
since the five books of Moses were written; but they still
exist, to tell the wondrous story of creation’s birth, the
burial and resurrection of the planet upon which we dwell, and
to unfold the history of God’s dealings with a people that he
had chosen for his own inheritance. The laws promulgated from
Sinai’s burning mount, live in many of their essential features
upon the statute books of all Christian nations. By the mighty
power of the press, the thoughts that glowed in the minds of
prophets, stirred the souls of the Apostles, and came fresh and
pure from a Saviour’s lips, are taken up, borne on from age to
age, and scattered like drops of morning drew amongst the
nations of mankind. Bunyan wrote his enchanting dream in the
solitude of Bedford prison; but the press seized hold of it, and
has gone one repeating the dreamer’s story in all the languages
of christendom, and multiplying its copies beyond the power of
human calculation. Through this medium the influence of Bunyan
will go on accumulating and gathering strength, so long as there
is a Christian to be comforted, or a sinner to be saved.

Through this same channel, Baxter, Alliene, Doddrige,
Scott, Hall, Fuller, Foster, Wesley, and a host of others that
we might name, live in the libraries of Christians of the
present age, and are heard with telling power in all the
evangelical pulpits of christendom. The man whose thoughts are
thus transmitted through the press, possesses an influence over
human minds and passions, which no figures can compute or
imagination conceive. For example, Spurgeon preaches on of his
best sermons; it is heard by two or ten thousand people, as the
case may be, and they are deeply moved by it. It is then taken
up by the press, published by tens of thousands of copies, and
read by multitudes in every section of the globe. In the first
instance, he speaks simply to a London congregation; but in the
second case, his audience is the world.

The first Mrs. Judson sleeps beneath the hopia tree, and
Judson himself found a watery tomb; but through the press, their
sufferings, labours, achievements, as given in their own
touching, eloquent strains, are giving direction to millions of
hearts, and rousing the missionary impulses of the Church
universal. The same may be said of Buchanan, Swartz, Brainard,
Carey, Marshman, Ward, Williams, Cook, Knibb, and many more,
whose names and memories are embalmed in the hearts of untold
millions.

But let me remind you, my hearers, that life after death as
well as before, is invested with the marvellous power of speech.
It is said of righteous Abel, he “being dead, yet speaketh.” Is
not this true of those with whom we once held sweet communion
and delightful association on the earth? Do we not hear their
voices echoing from the other side of the flood, and saying,
“Fear not—be not dismayed; the struggle will soon be over, and
the victory will soon be won. Gird on thy armour, be faithful
unto death; a crown is in reserve for thee.”

Some of those living dead who address us, were once our own
flesh and blood. It may be a beloved mother, who died in the
triumphs of the gospel, that speaks to us from the celestial
hills. Hark! what does she say? “Son, daughter, weep not for me,
but weep for yourselves. The moment I closed my eyes in death, I
opened them to gaze upon the transcendant beauties of these
celestial regions. All that I ever conceived of the bliss, the
joy, the glory of heaven, is as a dreamy shadow compared with
what I know see, hear, and feel. What disclosures of the
Infinite are here made! what songs of victory and praise break
upon my ear! what rapturous joy swells my bosom! I left my
church in conflict below, to join my church in triumph here. I
am separated from some I love on earth; but I am joined with
those I love in heaven. Prepare, dear children, to meet your
glorified mother in glory.”

Of all the beings that speak to living man, it appears to
me none speaks so impressively, so tenderly, so lovingly, as a
departed, Christian mother. For myself, I seem to hear ringing
in my ears, the lullabys of my mother, that she sung in the days
of my childhood. I seem to listen to that voice, as it went up
in prayer from a mother’s loving heart, that her sinful boy
might be regenerated, sanctified, saved. The counsels and
admonitions of my mother’s tongue, long since silent in death,
come echoing over the hills and across the waters, and make
their appeal direct to my heart, with all the pathos and
tenderness of maternal love, bidding me onward, onward in the
path of duty, in the way to heaven. The hand that smoothed my
pillow in the hour of sickness, and administered the needful
remedies to counteract disease and restore to health, appears to
be still stretched out in love to perform the same motherly
acts. I speak from experience, then, when I say, that a pious
mother, though dead, speaks in accents sweeter and more
impressive than those which angels use.

Cannot you, my hearers, call to mind some departed one, in
whom you feel a special interest—a father, mother, husband,
wife, child, brother, sister, relative, friend? Listen. Is it a
father that speaks from the heavenly hills? What does he say?
“Son, daughter, I once wrestled with doubts, fears, temptations,
trials, as you do now; but here I am, reaping the laurels of
victory. Urge your way in the path to heaven, and I will stand
at the gate of the celestial city, to bid you welcome. Is it a
mother? how tenderly does she say, “My dear child, I once
pressed thee to my bosom in all the ardor of a mother’s love,
and my prayers for your salvation, unworthy as I felt them to
be, have been graciously answered; and I am just now waiting for
the blissful moment to arrive, when I shall say to my Saviour,
here am I and the child that thou hast given me.” Is it a
husband that speaks? What does he say? “My loved wife, we were
united on the earth with strong ties—death came, and those ties
were severed; but other cords bound us in perpetual union, these
shall never be sundered. The separation is momentary; we shall
soon meet where parting is unknown.” Is it a wife that speaks?
What does she say? “Husband, in girlhood and in riper years, I
loved you with all the enthusiasm of my firth love. That love
was ultimately tempered and sanctified by the region of the
Cross, and then how earnestly I prayed to God for you when you
knew it not. You loved the society of the gay and of the
worldly; and when watching for your coming the midnight hour,
strong cries and tears were sent to heaven in your behalf. Early
I went to my grave, drooping as a frost-nipped flower, and I
told you not the reason why; but in solitude you pondered, and
that prayer that had been lying before the altar, and that had
been baptized in scalding, burning tears, gushing from a woman’s
loving, confiding, but aching heart, was at length answered; and
as I looked down from my seat of glory, I saw you a penitent at
the foot of the Cross; and now I bid you be of good cheer: you
will soon join me in the triumphs of the skies.” Is it a child
that speaks? What does he or she say? “Father, mother, early you
taught me the way to glory, not thinking I should reach this
blessed place before you; but my master called—I had to obey;
and while you were weeping in sadness, I was singing hallelujahs
to God and to the Lamb; and while you committed my clay-cold
body to the grave, and mingled my tears with the clods that
covered it from your sight, my soul, released and glorified, was
filled with the unutterable joys of this celestial state. Come,
come, I long to greet you on these blissful shores.” Is it a
brother or sister that speaks? What does he or she say? “My dear
brother, my darling sister, once we were intimately associated
under the same parental roof. We lay upon the same mother’s fond
bosom, and listened to the same father’s prayer; we read the
same Bible, attended the same school, engaged in the same plays,
went to the same church, and the same blood coursed in our
veins. I was taken, and you were left; heaven is now my home—I
partake of its delicious food, and drink from its pure
fountains; I mingle in its glorified society, and join in its
sublime anthems. Are you, oh! are you prepared to meet me here?
If so, all is well; if not, hasten, hasten to make your peace
with God.” Is it simply a friend that speaks, or one who was
once our neighbor, or a member of the same community, or of the
same church? Still the voice is powerful, urging us to a
diligent improvement of all the means of grace, that we may be
prepared for a better inheritance.

But, my hearers, be reminded, that not only voices from
glory speak, but tongues scorched with the fire of hell speak.
The profane swearer, the guilty Sabbath breaker, the boasting
infidel, the painted hypocrite, the arch seducer, the reeling
drunkard, the polluted sensualist, the avaricious man and the
moralist, the worldling and the almost Christian. All speak to
us from their shroud of flame, and say to us in the language of
the rich man in the parable, “Come not to this place.” Ten
thousands times ten thousand voices are continually speaking in
thunder tones to the wicked, warning them to escape the fury of
eternal fires. Young man, I hear a voice coming up from that
dark world. Who speaks? Your associate in sin. He was once with
you in the theatre, at the card-table, in the ball-room, and
where the sparkling glass went round, and boisterous mirth was
heard. By his own folly he cut short his days, and where is he
now? In hell he lifts up his eyes, and in wailing accents cries
aloud to you not to add to his unutterable torments, by becoming
his companion in suffering, as well as his associate in guilt.

O friends! the dead speak to us. They speak to us from the
past; they speak to us from their graves; they speak to us from
heaven; they speak to us from hell. Let us see to it, one and
all, that we heed the solemn message.

But I selected this passage, “Your fathers, where are they?
Your prophets, do they live for ever?” feeling that it is
peculiarly appropriate to the painful event which we are called
upon to improve. I refer to the death of our venerated FATHER
CRANDAL. He has for some time constituted the only connecting
link between the fathers of our denomination and their
successors in the ministry. Thomas Handly Chipman, Edward and
James Manning, Harris and Theodore Ansley, and Joseph Crandal,
for many years stood prominently before the people as the
“Fathers” of the Associated Baptist Churches of these lower
Provinces. A class of most excellent and useful men were united
with these valiant soldiers of the Cross in their day; such as
Estabrooks, Hammond, Ennis, Peter Crandal, Reece, Davis Harris,
Potter, Towner, Burton, M’Culley, and others of the precious
memory. All those first mentioned were converted to God about
that same time, and embarked together, with the exception of
Thomas Ansley, in the great work of winning souls to Christ.
These men were all preserved to a good old age—all of them to
three score years and ten, some of them to upwards of four score
years, and one, Harris Harding, to the extraordinary age of
ninety-six years; and what is remarkable, they all retained
their pastoral connection with the churches over which they were
called to preside in the days of their youth, until their Master
called them to their reward. They lived to see the third and
fourth generation called, sanctified, and saved, and to
introduce them in person into the churches which they had
planted in the morning of their ministry. No marvel, therefore,
that they should be spoken of as the “fathers” of the
denomination. Father Crandal was the last of the eight
patriarchs to leave the conflict below. One after another took
his departure, in the full assurance of a blissful immortality.
Joseph Crandal, last but not least, has gone also. Your father,
where are they? your prophets, do they live for ever? These
fathers all sleep in death; Father Manning in the old grave-yard
at Cunard; Father Chipman at Nictaux; Father Harris Harding at
Yarmouth; Father Ansley at St. Andrews; and Father Crandal at
Salisbury; all side by side with the precious dust of those
whose souls they had been instrumental in bringing home to
Christ. Sleep on, ye heralds of salvation, until your Master
bids you rise! The trumpet will ere long sound long and loud,
and yon and your beloved associates in death will hear that
sound, and start from death’s sleep, to meet your Lord in the
air. “Sown in corruption, raised in incorruption; sown in
dishonour, raised in glory; sown in weakness, raised in power;
sown a natural body, raised a spiritual body.” Yes, “death shall
be swallowed up in victory.”

“So Jesus slept. God’s dying Son
Passed through the grave, and blessed the
bed.
Rest here, blest saint, till from his throne
The morning break, and pierce the shade.
Break form his throne, illustrious morn;
Attend, O earth, his sovereign word;
Restore thy trust a glorious form,
Called to ascend and meet the Lord.”

These remarkable men of whom we speak, though slumbering in
death, as we have said, are nevertheless invested with all the
elements of a breathing, living, speaking power. Their souls,
regenerated, justified, sanctified, glorified, live in heaven,
and celebrate together the anthems of redeeming love. And they
live also in the influence of their ministry, example, labours,
successes, conflicts, and triumphs, in the ministers they
ordained, in the churches they planted, and in the souls they
were instrumental in saving from eternal burnings. In this
respect they will never, never die.

But it may be expected in this connection, that I should
make a special reference to the revered father that has so
recently taken his departure to the spirit world.

Joseph Crandal was the son of Webber and Mary Crandal
(originally Mary Vaughn) of Friertown, Rhode Island. His parents
emigrated to Nova Scotia the year before the American
revolution, and settled in Chester. He was then in his infancy.
His mother died when he was thirteen years of age; and not many
years after his father died also, leaving him a lonely orphan in
a cold-hearted world. But God was merciful to him, and in his
providence made all needful provision for his support. It would
appear that his mother was a pious woman; for when she was about
to depart this life, she summoned her son to her bedside, took
him by the hand, and said, “Joseph, the Lord has a great work
for you to do when I am dead and gone.” Had she spoken by the
spirit of prophecy, she could not have spoken more truthfully.
These words, uttered with all the pathos of a dying mother’s
love, made an impression that never left him. His convictions of
sin and of the need of salvation, were greatly strengthened by
the ministrations of Handley Chipman, and Joseph Dimock, who
visited Chester to proclaim the gospel message. Years, however,
passed before he obtained peace in believing. These were long
years of anxious concern about his soul. While thus troubled in
spirit, business called him to Onslow, and on the Sabbath he
attended a meeting conducted by Harris Harding and Joseph
Dimock. In that meeting the power of God was signally manifest:
and suddenly this young man had such a discovery of the glorious
majesty of Jehovah as to fill him with the utmost dismay. His
sins rose up before him steeped in crimson guilt, and he saw
himself justly condemned to endless misery, and could behold no
way of escape. Anguish and horror inexpressible filled his soul,
and he expected soon to sink in eternal woe. But unexpectedly to
himself, the way of salvation by the cross was opened to his
view. He saw that it just suited his case as a lost condemned
sinner and he embraced it with his whole heart. It was a
glorious moment in his history. So overpowered was he by what he
saw and felt, that he could not refrain from telling all around
him of the preciousness and fullness of a Saviour’s love.

In a series of letters addressed to the Visitor by Mr.
Crandal in 1853, he thus speaks of this wondrous change—“My mind
was completely absorbed in the solemn and marvellous scene. It
appeared to me that the whole human race were exposed to endless
ruin, and were altogether at the disposal of that holy being
whose glory had so overwhelmed my soul. I saw mercy so connected
with the justice of God, that they were both one; that what God
had done in the person of Christ was alone sufficient to save
all that would come to God for mercy through Jesus Christ; and I
felt as though the whole creation ought to know what I felt and
saw; for indeed it appeared of more importance to me than the
whole world. I continued speaking for more than an hour. I could
not hold my peace, for it was like the bursting forth of an
overflowing fountain. A world of sinners came up before men,
like a vast field, to which I could see no end. When the scene
had passed from me, I looked around me, and the two ministers,
Joseph Dimock and Harris Harding, were weeping, and many more
wept for joy.”

Such, my hearers, were some of the most important features
in the early experience of Joseph Crandal, and is highly
characteristic of the religion of the early Christians of these
Provinces. The truth of God, as revealed in his Word, by a long
process of conviction, followed by a distinct and in many cases
marvellous conversion, became to them a matter of personal
experience; and this prepared them to speak the truth in the
love of it.

By this experience of the power and grace of the gospel,
Father Crandal, though dead, still lives, for in his case we see
the riches of Divine goodness wondrously displayed. Was he a
lost sinner? So are we. Did he need a change of heart to fit him
for God’s work? So do we. Were the blood and righteousness of
Christ his only hope? So in respect to us. We, my hearers, must
experience the same grace, or we shall perish in our sin.

2. Notice his call to the ministry of the Gospel.

This, like his conversion, occasioned a painful struggle in
his mind. Shortly after he had tasted the sweetness of the
Saviour’s love, he became impressed with the idea that he ought
to devote his life to the Christian ministry; but how could he
think of doing so—no education, no means of obtaining it; and
how could he venture to embark in so great a work without it.
Conscious insufficiency in himself held him back, while the holy
impulses of the love of Christ in his soul impelled him forward.
While labouring under severe trails in reference to his call to
the ministry, he became convinced, from reading the Scriptures,
that he ought to be baptized, and accordingly he was buried with
Christ in baptism by Elder Joseph Dimock. Shortly after this
event, he was induced to accompany Harris Harding on a preaching
mission to Liverpool, not intending, as we suppose, to preach
himself. It so happened that he attended several meetings before
the Sabbath. Here again we will quote his own language. He says—
“On the Lord’s day we met at the meeting house; Elder Payzant
preached in the morning, and Harris Harding in the afternoon. At
the close of Mr. Harding’s sermon, he called upon me to pray. I
had not expected to be called upon, and felt much cast down in
my mind. It seemed as though a dark cloud of spiritual gloom
surrounded the whole meeting; but as soon as I commenced praying
the scene changed—the light of heaven shone into my soul. How
long I was engaged in prayer I know not; but when I opened my
eyes and looked round, I saw the two ministers weeping in the
pulpit, and the whole congregation seemed overpowered with an
awful sense of eternity. From this time the work of the Lord
commenced. The two ministers said I had a special call to
preach, and the next day insisted on my ascending the pulpit.
But oh, how I trembled! my great fear was that I was not called
of God to the great work of the ministry; but when I began to
speak my fears all left me.” This was his first attempt to
preach a sermon, and the result satisfied ministers and people
that he was a chosen vessel to bear to a perishing world the
glad tidings of salvation. The call of this young man to so
important work, distinctly proclaims the sovereignty of God in
the dispensations of his grace. As in the case of the primitive
preachers of christianity, the learned, the wise, and the noble
were passed by, and the unlearned fishermen of Galilee, and
those humble birth and attainments, were chosen to be
instrumental in founding the infant Church, and extending the
glory of the Redeemer’s name. So in regard to the youthful
Crandal and his coadjutors in the work of the Lord. Without the
aids of scholastic attainments, and without riches or rank, they
were chosen by God to do a might—thus proving that “God,” as the
sovereign disposer of all, “hath chosen the foolish things of
the world to confound the things that are mighty, and base
things of the world and things which are despised hath God
chosen; yea and things which are not, to bring to nought things
that are, that no flesh should glory in his presence.”

Let it not be supposed however that those heralds of the
cross to whom we refer, were satisfied with their intellectual
attainments, or despised learning. They applied themselves with
much assiduity to the acquisition of sound knowledge, and sought
by every means in their power to “approve themselves workmen
that needeth not to be ashamed;” and as they advanced in the
ministry, it became obvious to all that they were scribes well
instructed in the things of the kingdom of God.

3. Notice the success which attended his self-sacrificing
labours.

These labours were abundant. Having completed his visit in
Liverpool he returned to Chester. Some of his old associates
were surprised to hear that he had commenced preaching, but as
the Minister of the Church was absent the deacons invited him to
preach. He complied with the request, gainsayers were
confounded, and the christian people bade him God speed. From
Chester he travelled 30 miles through a dense wilderness to
Windsor, and held meetings in Windsor, Newport, Falmouth, Horton
and Cornwallis. In all these places he had seals to his
ministry. In the summer following he visited Onslow and Amherst,
and in these places God made him instrumental in the conversion
of souls. He spent the following winter in Sackville, and in the
district of the Petitcodiac, preaching the word with power.
Saints rejoiced, and sinners were converted to God. In the
spring he revisited Cornwallis, spent a few months labouring
successfully with Elder Manning, and then returned to Salisbury.
Here he became united in marriage to the eldest daughter of Mr.
Young Sherman. As there was no Church to provide for his
temporal support, and having married a wife, he naturally felt
that it was his duty to provide for her. The result was that he
procured a tract of land in the wilderness, and engaged in
manual labour. This subjected him to severe mental conflicts. In
speaking of his trials at that time in the letter referred to,
he says, “I thought there was a probability I had deceived
myself, and if so, I had deceived others. Under these
overwhelming I came to the conclusion that I would preach no
more. I went out to work on a new farm, and determined I would
be like other people. I used to meet with the people on the
Lord’s day, and when urged to open the meeting I could not deny.
I continued in this way about eighteen months; but one Sabbath
morning as I entered the meeting in a place called Pollet River,
about three miles from my house, the cloud of darkness that had
so long rested in my mind disappeared, and the Lord so blessed
my speaking that a number of people cried aloud for mercy, and
the meeting continued a number of days. O it was wonderful to
see groups of people at the hour of midnight returning home from
the meeting with torch lights, making the wilderness echo with
the praises of God. Surely these were happy days. This work
spread in all the regions round. The doctrines preached were
man’s total depravity by the fall of Adam, salvation wholly and
alone through the Lord Jesus Christ, regeneration by the Holy
Spirit, and sanctification progressive, producing obedience to
the Lord’s commands. Many believers followed Christ in baptism.”

The Lord so blessed the ministry of Mr. Crandal at this
time, that the friends called him to ordination, and a Council
was convened, composed of Elders Edward Manning, Theodore H.
Harding, Joseph Dimock, and others. A Church was formed, and Mr.
Crandal was ordained its Pastor. Mr. Harding continued after the
ordination for some time, aiding his youthful brother in the
work of the Lord.

He travelled extensively in this revival, visiting
Salisbury, Moncton, Coverdale, Hillsborough and Sackville, and
proceeded on to Parsborough and Cornwallis, preaching the gospel
frequently in log houses—thus verifying the Saviour’s utterance,
the poor have the gospel preached to them. Multitudes gladly
received the word, and were baptized.

About this time he was filled with an anxious desire to
visit the people on the River Saint John. It was the dead of
winter, and how to go he could not tell; but he could find no
rest. Finally, in company with a young man going in that
direction, he girded on his snow-shoes, and hastened forward
with God’s message. This was in the last of January, 1800. Not
being accustomed to this mode of journeying, he endured much
fatigue; but he travelled on, preaching on all the village the
Lord Jesus. He visited Norton and Bellisle, and in the latter
place many were brought to know the truth. Among the number was
Mr. Drake, afterwards Deacon Drake of this church—a man of
precious memory. From Bellisle he passed on to Canning, where he
made the acquaintance of the late Elijah Estabrooks, a devoted
man of God, and a successful preacher of the gospel. In this
district he saw the work of God revive. Thence he passed up the
river, preaching in different places. On his way he met a Mr.
Cole from Kingsclear, who was in pursuit of him to engage him to
preach a funeral sermon. He preached—the word was attended with
the Spirit’s power, and many were converted to God.

Mr. Crandal in his letters makes special reference to this
visit, and says—“A pious sister asked for baptism, and I
answered that she would be immersed at 10 o’clock, A.M. the next
day. Accordingly, before the hour arrived, people came from all
directions for many miles around, and the ice having been
opened, the candidate related a clear Christian experience, and
I baptized her. When we came out of the water, two more told
what God had done for their souls, and we could not leave the
water until fourteen happy converts had been immersed in
conformity to the Saviour’s example. Surely this was the Lord’s
work. Four or five hundred people were present, and it was a
great day of God’s power. The work of the Lord spread in every
direction.”

He remained on the river for some time above Fredericton,
preaching the gospel and immersing believers as far up as
Woodstock.

On his return he called again at Canning, and was
immediately met by crowds of people, many of whom had been
searching the Bible on the subject of baptism during his
absence, and had come to the conclusion that it was their duty
to be baptized. In the room where they were assembled, the Lord
made himself manifest in great power. Many of these people had
been united in a Congregational Church, but they now saw it to
be their duty to be baptized. Their leader, Mr. Estabrooks, led
the way, and the aged, middle aged, and young, declared what the
Lord had done for their souls, and were immersed by Mr. Crandal
in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.
There was a mighty outpouring of the Spirit upon the people. Mr.
Crandal notes it in the following style—“At the second
conference many related their experience. An aged man arose from
his seat; it was Esquire Esty, and old New England
Congregationalist, rooted and grounded in the old Puritan
practice of infant sprinkling. He was a man much beloved. He
said to me, ‘I see you are going to break up our church.’ I said
to him, ‘Sir, if your church is built on Christ, the gates of
hell cannot prevail against.’ He replied, ‘Do you not call us a
Church of Christ?’ I said, ‘I consider you a company of pious
Christians, but not walking in the order of the gospel as Christ
has commanded.’ He took up his hat and walked out, saying, his
parents had given him up to the Lord in infancy, and from that
he would not depart. As he was going out, I said, ‘Esquire, I
have one word to say to you—the Scribes and Pharisees rejected
the counsel of God against themselves, not being baptized.’ The
next morning being Lord’s day, we met at the water at nine
o’clock, A.M. A great host assembled to see the effects of the
new religion, and to my great surprise, the old gentleman who
had said he would never depart from his infant sprinkling, was
the first to yield obedience to the commands of Christ. Such a
day of the Lord’s saving power was rarely witnessed on earth.
Nearly thirty candidates were baptized, and the meeting did not
break up until the going down of the sun. It was truly solemn
and delightful to hear the praises of the Lord sun by great
numbers of happy converts in boats returning home from the
delightful scene. The work of that day I can never forget. The
clear setting sun, the large expanse of unruffled water, the
serenity of the atmosphere, the delightful notes of the
feathered songsters, and the solemn sound of hymns sung by many
happy voices, presented to me an emblem of the paradise of God.
It seemed as though heaven had come down to earth, and that I
was on the brink of the eternal world.”

The next day he crossed the river and baptized a number
more, and then proceeded on his way, preaching the gospel and
baptizing believers, as the Saviour had commanded. At Long
Island his preaching was much blessed, and many were baptized.
On his return he visited this city, and was joyfully received by
the Christians of that day.

Time would fail us to detail further the labours and
successes of our departed friend. Suffice it to say, that during
these early years of his ministry, notwithstanding the newness
of the country, and the badness of the roads, and many other
inconveniencies, he was impelled forward in his evangelical
labours by the holy impulses of love Divine. Frequently he went
forth weeping, bearing precious seed, but he returned again with
rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him. In all these lower
Provinces the fruits of his evangelical ministry are abundant.
Hundreds, we doubt not, were at heaven’s gates to greet him, on
his entrance into that bright world, as the honoured instrument
in God’s hand of leading them to a knowledge of the truth, and
many more will follow after. His name and his memory is embalmed
in the best affections of thousands now living, who have
listened with joy and delight to the message of mercy from his
lips. In this city his labours have been much blessed, and by
many highly prized. Some of you now think of him as your
spiritual guide in the path to heaven.

Does he not still live in the success of his ministry? That
success testifies to his devotedness to his Master’s work, and
to his reliance, not upon human wisdom, but upon the prowess of
an arm Divine. No man believed more firmly than Joseph Crandal
that the salvation of the sinner was not by might or by power
but the Spirit of the Almighty. This sentiment inwrought deeply
in his own individual experience made him a man of earnest
prayer, and brought him into close and intimate converse with
the Deity. Like Jacob he wrestled with God, and like him he
received the blessing. The enlarged success of such a ministry,
imbued with such a spirit, speaks most loudly to all ministers
and churches, calling upon them to bestir themselves to the
exercise of faith and prayer and labor in the Master’s work.

His doctrinal views were of the Calvinistic type; hence in
his ministry he gave much prominence to the doctrine of the
universal depravity of man through the first transgression—God’s
choice of his people in Christ before the world was—the
co-equality of the Lord Jesus, and of the Holy Spirit with the
Eternal Father—the vicarious and perfect sacrifice presented on
the Cross by Jesus, the sinner’s substitute, in accordance with
the conditions of the immutable covenant of grace—regeneration
by the sovereign grace of God—justification by the imputed
righteousness of Christ—sanctification progressive under the
guidance of the eternal spirit, and producing holiness of heart
and life—the certain perseverance of all the saint of God to
eternal glory—the resurrection of the dead and eternal judgment.
He, however, held these sentiments as being in perfect harmony
with the full and free proclamation of the gospel to every
creature, and with the obligations resting upon all who hear the
gospel, to repent of their sins and embrace its rich and ample
provisions. Firmly did he advocate the right of private
judgment, calling upon all to examine for themselves the Holy
Scriptures of the Old and New Testament, as constituting the
only rule of faith and practice, and as the book that will judge
us at the last day. In the advocacy of these sentiments, both in
public and in private, he was bold, zealous and persevering; but
he at the same tie cherished towards the pious of every name who
differed from him, christian love and good will.

To what appeared to him as the truth and as the path of
duty he adhered with unwavering fidelity. We might refer to many
incidents in his life as illustrative of this trait in his
character, but let the following suffice. Some thirty-five years
ago, he was induced by the urgent solicitations of his numerous
friends in the County of Westmorland, to accept a seat in the
Provincial Legislature, as a member for that County, and was
returned by a large majority. At that time the Government of the
country was entirely in the hands of the high Tory party: those
who believed most firmly in the doctrine of “vested right,” and
in the right of the “select few,” to govern the many. To dissent
from the Church and State notions of that day was, in the
judgment of some, treason against the laws of the land. When Mr.
Crandal appeared in the Legislature, he found himself surrounded
by men of this type; but he had resolved upon a straightforward
manly course. Hence whenever a question came up implicating the
rights of the people, Mr. Crandal stood up as the bold and
uncompromising advocate of equal rights. This very soon
subjected him to a severe trial. He, of course, had no idea when
he entered political life of abandoning the ministry, and hence
he continued to preach the Gospel as usual. When in Fredericton
he preached regularly to the Baptist Church in that place, and
they were much edified by his ministrations. This fact was known
to the Government, and as Mr. Crandal had taken a stand in the
House in favour of popular rights, to the great annoyance of the
men in high places, they determined by a marvellous expedient to
get rid of him. Hence in their sovereignty they decreed that no
avowed preacher of the gospel should have a seat in the
Legislature. Mr. Crandal and his many friend felt that the
decree was arbitrary and unjust, but they had no alternative but
to submit. Then came the question of duty. Should he pursue the
labors of political life, share in its emoluments and honors,
and abandon the christian ministry? or would he abandon the
former and cleave to the latter? This question he was not long
in deciding. Like Moses he esteemed the reproaches of Christ
greater riches than all earthly treasures. The matter was up for
discussion, and he was given to understand that if he preached
in Fredericton as usual on the Sabbath, he would be dismissed
from the Legislature early in the week. Sabbath morning came,
and he was found in his place in the sacred desk, declaring with
more than usual energy and power the unsearchable riches of
Christ, and exclaiming with an Apostle, “God forbid that I
should glory save in the cross of the unto the world.” As was
expected, early in the week an order passed the Government
forbidding him to occupy his seat as the representative of the
people. Accordingly he left, feeling that it was “better to obey
God than man.” Such, however, was his influence in the County of
Westmorland, that for many years after the event to which we
refer, no man could succeed in a contested election in that
County unless he had Mr. Crandal’s interest on his side. This
extensive influence was invariably in favor of civil and
religious liberty, and to the countenance of equal privileges.
For many years before his death he took no active part in
politics; yet his sentiments were very generally known, and
probably to him more than to any single individual, this
Province stands indebted for the diffusion of correct sentiments
regarding the matter of civil and religious liberty.

As might be expected, his influence in the denomination was
very extensive. He took part in the formation of the first
Baptist Association organised in these lower Provinces. This
event occurred in Lower Granville, Nova Scotia, on the 24th of
June, 1800. The departed was then in the vigour of his youth,
and preached on the occasion with great power from Zach. xiii.
7—“Awake, O sword, against my shepherd, and against the man that
is my fellow, saith the Lord.” Strong as he was in faith at that
time, he probably had not the remotest idea that he should live
to see that infant Association extending its membership and
ministry over the three Provinces, and ultimately becoming
sufficiently large to form five Associations, and the smallest
of the number four times as large as the one then organized. But
so it was; and to this remarkable increase, he, with the Divine
blessing, contributed in an abundant measure.

Fifty years from the date of the first Association, Fathers
Crandal and E. Manning met at an Association held at Nictaux;
and these veterans of the Cross both preached in their turn to
the assembled multitude. The effect of their administrations was
overpowering. Many felt that they were hearing them both for the
last time; and so it proved to be. At the close of the session,
they took their leave of each other, expecting not to meet again
until they should meet in the great association above. The sight
was deeply affecting. They wept, embraced each other, and
rejoiced together in the prospect of a speedy re-union in the
skies. They had entered the field of conflict about the same
time, had fought many a hard battle with the principalities and
powers of evil, and had witnessed on all hands the mighty
triumphs of that Gospel which had been committed to their truth;
and now that they contemplated the moment as drawing nigh when
they should exchange the helmet and the sword and the
breastplate for laurels of victory at God’s right hand, and for
crowns of glory studded with many precious gems, is it any
matter of marvel that they should be deeply moved in the
retrospect of the past, and at the opening prospect of the
future?

At all our denominational gatherings, Father Crandal filled
a distinguished place; frequently chosen, especially in younger
life, to preside, and was always expected, when present, to
preach. When the New Brunswick Baptist Education Society was
formed, he was elected its President. This was nearly thirty
years ago, and by the unanimous wish of his brethren, he
continued to fill this important office until removed by death.

His pastoral relations were extended, and somewhat
peculiar. Having been so extensively blessed in the Counties of
Westmorland and Albert, he seemed to feel that he was called to
exercise a special oversight over all the Churches in that
extensive district. Hence he was sometimes the pastor at
Salisbury, then at Sackville, then at Moncton, then at
Hillsborough, then at Coverdale, and then back again at
Salisbury. If he had confined his pastoral labors more to one
given point, and satisfied with simply visiting the Churches in
the other sections, enquiring after their welfare, it probably
would have been better for him, and for the cause in which he
was engaged. The tendency was, though not designed by him, to
unsettle younger pastors, and to induce in the people the love
of change. The fact is, that steady, pastoral guidance, in
connection with an individual church, was not his strong forte.
His mission was more in the direction of evangelization, and of
an extended proclamation of the Gospel of peace, and hence his
love for itinerancy, and his success in winning souls to Christ.

As a preacher, he was very effective. His appearance in the
pulpit was calm, dignified, and impressive; his voice
commanding, and his intonations at times peculiarly touching.
His topic was generally Christ, and him crucified. To whatever
branch of the great system of truth he turned his attention, he
generally found his way to the Cross, as the great central point
in the christian economy. To him, Christ was the Alpha and Omega
of salvation; hence he loved to proclaim him in his Divine
original, in his complex character as the God-man, in the
infinitude of his love, in the purity of his obedience, in the
agonies of his death and passion, in the all-sufficiency of his
ascension, and in the prevalency of his intercession before the
Throne above. As he expatiated upon these sublime and
soul-stirring features in the great mystery of godliness, his lips
not unfrequently seemed as if touched with a live coal from
God’s burning altar. The effect of his ministry under such
circumstances, was thrilling and impressive, beyond the power of
language to express. It was this unction from the Holy One
doubtless, that gave him such power over human hearts. God grant
that his mantle in this respect may rest upon those he has left
behind.

It is worthy of remark, that while Father Crandal was thus
honored by his brethren, and blessed by God in the salvation of
souls, and in the extension of Zion, he was habitually impressed
with a sense of his own unworthiness to enjoy such distinguished
favor. He felt that, in himself, all was imperfect, and that his
proper place was that of an humble suppliant at the foot of the
Cross. Often have we heard him exclaim in the language of Paul,
“By the grace of God, I am what I am.” While we speak of him,
therefore, as a good man, let us at the same time be reminded
that he was perfected but in part, and that we should follow him
no further than he followed Christ.

We have already remarked that in youth he was married to
Miss Sherman. By her he had three sons, David, John, and James,
and three daughters Mary, Lucy and Rebecca. His son David has
long been a successful preacher of the Gospel of Christ, and
still continues a watchman on Zion’s walls. His son John is also
an office bearer in the church, and valiant for the truth.

His first wife having been removed from him by death, he
married Miss Martha Hopper, of Sackville, by whom he had five
sons and three daughters, all of whom are living at the present
time. The second Mrs. Crandal still lives. May God be her
support in the decline of life, and her comfort in the hour of
death.

Finally, we notice his quiet, peaceful, triumphant death.
Notwithstanding he was in his eighty-seventh year, he
nevertheless died with his armour on. His was the death of a
truly Christian hero: only six weeks before he died he preached
the gospel to the people supported by two of his deacons, and
took his leave of his affectionate and weeping church; and
during his last illness, though his suffering were at times
severe, yet he staggered not at the promise through unbelief,
but was strong in faith giving glory to God. Sensible to the
very last, he met the King of terror with perfect composure, and
feeling that death was doing its work, he closed his eyes and
his mouth, and died without a struggled or a groan.

Thus old and full of years his sun went down without a
cloud, leaving a dazzling splendor in its train. He had indeed
fought the good fight, finished his course and kept the faith,
and for him the crown of righteousness was in reserve. Of all
the messages which his protracted ministry and his entire
history addresses to man, none speaks in louder or more touching
tones than that calm and peaceful death. It tells us how a
christian warrior can die with glory in his view.

I have only to remark in conclusion, that the removal of
Father Crandal from the scenes of his earthly connexions, is an
event not unexpected it is true, but which nevertheless produces
a sensation that is deeply felt, not only by his own church, but
throughout the Provinces generally.

All feel that “a prince and a great man has fallen in
Israel.” His form so manly rests in the grave, and his tongue
once so eloquent is silent in death. What remains for us but to
prepare to meet him in a brighter and better world. By faith we
see him standing before the throne of God and the Lamb, in white
robes and palms in his hands, crying with a loud voice,
“Salvation to God that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb
forever and ever.”

To that state of felicity all godly ministers and people
are tending. The wheels of nature, by an immutable law, are
rolling forward and hurrying to the eternal state. Meanwhile
heaven is attracting to itself all that is virtuous and good
upon the earth, and peopling its pure mansions with the spirits
of just men made perfect. Let us, dear friends, follow in the
track of those venerated Fathers, who instructed us by their
counsels, and cheered us by their example, that like them we may
at last finish our course with joy, enter into rest, and unite
eternally with them in the employment and bliss of the heavenly
world.

“No chilling wind, no poisonous breath,
Can reach that healthful shore:
Sickness and sorrow, pain and death
Are felt and feared no more.”