THE EVANGELICAL MAGAZINE, AND MISSIONARY CHRONICLE. FOR JULY, 1852. MEMOIR OF THE LATE REV. D. W. ASTON, FORTY-SEVEN YEARS PASTOR OF THE CHURCH ASSEMBLING IN THE NEW "PRECIOUS in the sight of the Lord" | and Dr. Butler, late Bishop of Lich are the lives and deaths of "his saints." The world often treats both with indifference or scorn; but the blessed God observes them with condescending at tention, and affectionate regard. "He keeps their feet;" he "fixes the bounds of their habitation;" he "chooses their inheritance;" he " supplies all their need;" and graciously appoints the time, the place, and the manner in which they shall be gathered to their rest and their reward. The subject of this sketch was one of the Lord's "saints;" and, as his life was useful, and his death instructive, so is his "memory blessed." The Rev. D. W. Aston was descended from a respectable family in Warwickshire. His ancestors, through several generations, were of the class of substantial yeomen, and cultivated their own estates. He was born in the year 1773, in the far-famed village of Kenilworth. When six years of age, he was sent to the Free Grammar School, where he was associated with some youths who afterwards rose to the highest ecclesiastical honours, among whom were the present Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of Winchester, VOL. XXX. field and Coventry. The last men tioned was his chief companion, and for whom he long entertained an ardent affection. Mr. Aston's parents were strongly attached to the Established Church, and as strongly opposed to all Dissentients. They were strictly moral, and diligently observed the outward forms of religion; but they were ignorant of its saving power. The sound of "the glorious gospel" was not heard by him until he had reached his sixteenth year, when it pleased God, in his providence, to remove his parents with their family to another village in the same county, about fourteen miles distant. Here he was taken, by a pious grandmother who came to reside with them at that time, to a cottage, where he heard, from the lips of a plain and faithful preacher, truths to which he had hitherto been a stranger. "This was the period," to use his own words, "in which light began to dawn on my mind." That precious "light" proved to be from heaven, and "increased more and more until the perfect day." Feeling a strong attachment to the forms of worship in which he had been 2 D brought up, it was a long time before | rence. After two years' application to he could bring his mind to unite with any body of Christians out of the pale of the Establishment; and it was only by slow and almost imperceptible degrees, that he was led to separate himself from her communion. Being brought to love the Saviour himself, he soon felt a benevolent and ardent desire to make his grace known to others. After the lapse of a few years this desire was gratified. By a singular train of circumstances, which need not be related here, and while occupying an important situation on the estates of a distinguished nobleman, in one of the midland counties, he was induced by some pious friends to commence preaching the gospel in the benighted villages around, in connexion with the Wesleyan Methodists. His first effort was owned of God in the conversion of one who afterwards lived to "adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour." He was encouraged to proceed; many souls were awakened under his ministry, and "much people added to the Lord." His zealous efforts roused the opposition of the neighbouring clergy; and he soon found, that he must either desist from preaching, or resign his situation. He preferred, however, the service and "reproach of Christ," and devoted himself entirely to ministerial work; and, at the urgent request of thsoe who had derived profit from his labours, he continued among them two years. A great revival of religion was produced in that part of the country, as the result, under God, of his self-denying exertions. In his Diary are related many remarkable facts of powerful impressions and awakenings, similar to those recorded in the lives of Whitfield and Wesley. At the close of his engagement with the Wesleyans, with whom he was never formally united, he was introduced to the Rev. J. Moody, of Warwick, who kindly assisted him in his studies for the ministry, and whom he ever regarded with filial reve the classics and theology, in which he made good progress, he was introduced to the work of the ministry among the Congregationalists, whose doctrines and discipline he regarded as more accordant with the New Testament than those of the Denominations with whom he had hitherto associated. His first place of settlement was Stratford-on-Avon, where he was ordained, and continued to minister during two years,-" the Lord giving testimony to the word of his grace," by attracting many to listen, and to believe. It is interesting to record, that during his stay here, he was instrumental in the conversion of his own mother, and the lady who afterwards became his wife. His second and last sphere of pastoral labour was Buckingham. His union with the people in that town was attended with blessed results. Previous to his acceptance of the charge, it was with the Church "a day of small things;" but in reference to him was that encouraging word exemplified, Though thy beginning was small, yet thy latter end shall greatly increase." Most assiduously did he plant and water the portion of the vineyard committed to his care, and with much success. Numbers are now before the Throne of God, and many are on their way to "the kingdom," who have ascribed their spiritual change to his earnest and affectionate ministrations. He did not confine his cares and labours within the circle of his own pastorate. Treading in the steps of his Divine Master," he went about doing good." The surrounding towns and villages, many of which were sunk in " great darkness," shared in his benevolent regard. Nor did he fail in his efforts. "The wilderness and solitary place was made glad for him, and the desert blossomed as the rose." He was one of the founders of the North Bucks Association, and was its able and devoted Secretary from its commencement till nearly the close of his made frequent visits. And never had children a more tender and affectionate parent. They encouraged the hope that he would yet "see many days," and live to bless them and theirs by his public life. It was his happiness to live to see a great improvement in the moral and spiritual aspect of the town and county in which his lot was cast. He lived not in vain. Seldom did he preach from home, but he heard, after-holy example and fervent intercessions wards, of good having been accomplished by his labours. His spirit was eminently catholic. He was a lover of good men, wherever he met them, and some of his most ardently attached friends were found in other sections of the Christian Church. Those who knew him best were ready to confess that "he was a good man, and full of the Holy Ghost." He was "mighty" in the Scriptures, and in prayer. But "man goeth forth unto his work and to his labour until the evening." It was thus with our beloved father. He had toiled through a long day, and now the shadows of the evening set in upon him. As he was never an idler, so he was resolved, when his work was done, [to be no hinderer in the field. His infirmities increasing upon him, he resigned his charge at Buckingham early in the year 1850, having faithfully performed its duties for the lengthened period of forty-seven years. He could say to those for whom he had so long watched and prayed, and wept and laboured, "I take you to record this day, that I am pure from the blood of all men, for I have not shunned to deliver unto you all the counsel of God." It was Mr. Aston's earnest desire to spend the remaining days of his pilgrimage among his children, residing in the town of Hull, where he had *He was seldom in bed after five o'clock, till his infirmities prevented, and for more than forty years he read a chapter in his Hebrew Bible every morning before breakfast, thus presenting an example of diligence worthy of imitation. His punctuality was remarkable. He waited not for the arrival of the careless worshipper. He was never known to be one minute behind the appointed time in the pulpit, except from illness, and was never too late in any engagement, if it depended on himself. with God. But it was the will of our heavenly Father to permit them to "rejoice in his light," and to be indulged with his society, only for a few months. His fine constitution gave way-" the keepers of the house trembled; and the strong man bowed himself." It was only, however, within six weeks of his decease, that fears were entertained by his family that the precious treasure, which they had fondly called “their own," was about to be recalled. After the first attack, hopes were encouraged that he would be restored; but his own impressions were, that he was soon to leave us, and go to his "Father's house." He himself heard the voice, "Arise and depart, this is not your rest." Nor did he murmur at the heavenly calling. The dear old man "embraced the promises," and girded his loins for the journey. The constant uneasiness and difficulty of breathing, which his malady created, deprived him of sleep, and thus imposed on those who loved him, the enviable task of watching him night and day. And truly blessed were the hours which they spent with him in his chamber. It was, indeed, a "privileged" place; it was good to be there; it was felt to be "quite on the verge of heaven." The death-scene was patriarchal. Never will it be forgotten by his children. and grandchildren, who were suddenly called together, when he thus addressed them: "I charge you all to meet me at the right hand of Christ." On another occasion, he said: "I have never bowed my knees before the God of heaven, but I have remembered every one of you." "I know who is the widow's God, and the Father of the fatherless, and I commit you to his hands." "The peace and love of God be with you all." "He will come and meet me on the When his weeping family stood round his bed, expecting every moment would prove his last, he kindly said: "Don't distress yourselves, my dears; you know into whose hands you commit your friend and your father." Then raising his eyes toward heaven, he prayed audibly: "O, Thou who hast been their father's God, be their God, and help them to say, Thou shalt be our God, even as Thou hast been our father's God! They can say it with satisfaction." To three of his grandsons he turned and said: "My dear boys, will you not say, 'O God, Thou art the God of my youth?'" During the greater portion of the last four days of his illness, the mind of our venerable parent seemed entirely abstracted from the scenes around him. He appeared, evidently, as if engaged in his much-loved exercise of preaching, and in administering the ordinance of the Holy Supper. He would dwell for an hour, and sometimes longer, on one topic, with an in-gether, till he was completely exhausted, tensity of feeling and manner which surprised all who witnessed him. The following were some of the themes :"Rejoicing in hope of the glory of God."-"Just and true are thy ways," &c.-"The mercy of God."-"They have washed their robes," &c.-The love of Christ." From the difficulty which he experienced in breathing, we could only catch a few distinct sentences, and these were sometimes exceedingly beautiful and appropriate. "The love of God," he exclaimed, "O the love of God in Crist Jesus! The exhibition of that love! The embodiment of that love-CHRIST! O the weight of the love of Christ! Tell me, my dear children, how I can support the weight of the love of Christ which I now feel? It overwhelms me. can I sustain it?" Then he repeated the lines of Wesley, How 666 and nature seemed ready to expire. Amidst all his afflictions, he did not forget his late charge at Buckingham Their spiritual welfare lay near his heart. He was heard to say, in the language of the beloved disciple, Having loved his own, which were in the world, he loved them to the end;' then, why should not I? I do love them to the end. Give my dying love to my poor people, and tell them, I love them still. Not in the same sense that Christ called them his own, can I call them my own, but they are mine from choice. The same disinterested love which led me to take charge of them, leads me to love them still: my conscience bears me witness, that I am clear of their blood, and that disinterested motives actuated me throughout, and the same love lasts to the end. There are many things for which to be humbled; many things to reject; many things to be thankful for; but as Christ loved his own to the end, so do I." He was asked, on one occasion, "Are you in pain?" "Oh no!" he quickly replied, "I am in perfect peace. Thou wilt keep him in peace, peace,' (for so it is in the original Hebrew)' whose mind is stayed on thee.' I am waiting to see the full manifestation of the full glory of God. No clouds-no doubts. How delightful the change! He will change this vile body," &c. One of his children said to him: "The upper world is opening before you? Heaven is before you?" His answer was: "It is, it is; I have trusted all in his inflexible hand. He is all my salvation, and all my desire. 'Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace."" &c. During one night, between the hours of one and two, he requested us to unite with him in singing. He chose the 17th Psalm, and the two last Verses: "O glorious hour! O blest abode! I shall be near, and like my God," &c. We made the attempt as well as our feelings and tears would allow. His lips trembled at first, but in the last line," The sacred pleasures of my soul," his fine deep voice swelled out the bass notes of the tune so strongly that we were completely overpowered, and could not proceed to the remaining verse. It may be truly said, our beloved parent did "not see death." His end was a "departure," and he longed to be gone. He asked his children once or twice: "Can this be dying?" We inquired if he were not uncomfortable? He replied: "Oh no! how can it be uncomfortable when Jesus is here? He makes my bed, and gives me sleep." "His presence, then, makes your head easy?" "It does; it does. O the love of Jesus!" When one of his sons-in-law asked him how he was, he replied, in the memorable words of Baxter, when dying: "Almost well: almost at home." The last words which he was heard to utter distinctly were: "Come, Lord Jesus; come quickly: why are thy chariot wheels so long in coming?" This event occurred January 9th. He was in his seventy-ninth year. Thus another shock of corn, fully ripe, has been carried to the barn-floor; another jewel from earth set in the mediatorial crown; another Elijah ascended to heaven. "My father! my father! The chariots of Israel, and the horsemen thereof!" Let a double portion of thy Spirit rest on us, who yet toil below! His remains were interred in the beautiful grounds of the Hull General Cemetery Company. Many devout men carried him to his grave. Six of his ministerial brethren, who knew him and loved him, held the pall. The Rev. T. Stratten, in an impressive and affectionate discourse, improved the event before a large and deeplyaffected audience in Salem Chapel, where, for several months, he had attended on the ministry of his son-inlaw. The passage was one chosen by himself; expressing his own simple reliance, and the grand theme of his ministry during an unusually lengthened period,-"I know whom I have believed," &c. Honoured is the denomination in having such a faithful minister; and happy are the children to have such a father; and whom, in all the essential features of his character, it shall be our humble ambition to follow, though conscious it must ever be with unequal steps. Lister-street, Hull. JAMES SIBREE. |
