You will readily conceive that I have derived no small encouragement from these dealings of my gracious God with my dear brother. But the encouragement has been greatly increased by the change which has recently passed upon dear Tooi, one of my New Zealand guests. After they had set sail for New South Wales, in the _Baring_, the ship struck against a brake, and they were obliged to put again into port. During this interval, Tooi was taken dangerously ill, and, in the estimation of all who saw him, had not the least probability of recovery. This painful visitation, however, to his poor body, seems to have been the means of salvation to his soul. All the pious friends who surround him, speak of the change as most unequivocal; and Mr. Hall, who attended them while with me, and who is as far, as any one I know, from attempting to colour, speaks in decided terms of the divine change which he has experienced. Among other things in one of his letters, writing of Tooi, he says, “I cannot help mentioning one of his simple speeches, which I think will please you. ‘When I in New South Wales my heart no good: I come to England, and hear the word of God, and, I think, O dear me, I want a new heart; I begin to pray to Jesus to give me a new heart. In my own country, I sin very much, and, when in South seaman, the sailors teach me to curse and swear—miserable work. But the blood of Jesus runs down my heart, and washes away my sins, and my heart feel comfortable and happy, and I no fear to die. Believe in Jesus is the way to go up to heaven, and be happy for ever with Jesus, and all Christian friends; (naming many, and you and your’s amongst the number).’” O, my dear friend, how blessed is true religion, and how touching is this simple account, which shows, I think, that dear Tooi has become possessed of it.
SINCE I last wrote to you, I have been called to pass through some painful and unexpected scenes. About twelve months ago my dear father began to decline very rapidly in his health, owing to some serious reverses which he experienced in his temporal concerns, and which preyed very much upon his mind; the full extent we are none of us able to determine, but one of my uncles and his son who were privy to many of his transactions, can distinctly reckon up £75,000 which came under their own observation. All these losses had their measure of effect upon his spirits; but, there was a lawsuit pending, and which had been commenced some months since, which, if determined against him, threatened to sweep away all that remained, and even to leave him insolvent. Of this he informed no one, but kept it working secretly within, till, at length, it proved too much for him, and his constitution irrecoverably gave way. On the day of his removal, indeed, he was unusually well; was out in the garden a great part of the forenoon, and very cheerful while taking his tea, but about seven in the evening he was seized with a fit of apoplexy, and he was a corpse by a little after nine. His death much affected me, and especially as I had my fears lest it should have been produced by a mere sorrow of the world; but when I joined my dear mother, I was much comforted by finding that the Lord’s gracious intentions in all this apparently severe discipline, were mercifully answered; that they produced in him a gradual weaning from the world, and an increased esteem and relish for the things which concerned his soul. And in this effect, I hope, that we are all, at least most of us, enabled to rejoice, though, in order to produce it, it was necessary that he should suffer the loss of almost all things. To think of his departed spirit, as happy with the Lord, affords to us a balm of consolation which thousands upon thousands could not effect without it.