induced to join the forces which were then raised. The following letter to his sisters, Lydia and Hannab Frothingham, will show the state of his mind at this period.Extracts from this and his other letters are published without mate alteration. Pittsburgh, April 25, 1787. MY DEAR SISTERS, This leisure hour I devote to you, and leave a letter behind, to be forwarded the first opportunity. You will see by my other letters that our station is altered; we are to continue our march in a day or two up the Alleghany river, perhaps 150 miles. For the Christian Spectator. Memoir of Ebenezer Frothingham. EBENEZER FROTHINGHAM, the subject of this memoir, was the son of the Rev. Ebenezer Frothingham of Middletown, and was born about the year 1756. At a proper agerial he was placed with a mechanic for the purpose of learning a trade, and continued in this situation until the commencement of the revolutionary war, when he engaged, as a soldier, in the service of his country. Until this period, Mr. Frothingham had given no evidence of piety, and had little serious thought on the subject of religion. In the army, however, it became evident that the counsels and prayers of his pious parent had not been in vain. He became, it is believed, a humble believer in Christ, and although we are not able to record the manner of his conversion, we have, in what we know of his conduct, the best possible evidence of his sincerity. A gentleman, who occupied the same tent with him, says that Mr. F. was a man of faith and prayer, and while diligent in the discharge of duty, considered himself as a pilgrim, journeying to another and better country. Mr. F. was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant, and after the peace of 1783, retired with honour from the service, and became an instructor of youth in his native town. In this employment be was highly useful, and continued in it until, at the prospect of a war with the western Indians, he was Vol. 2-No. IX. 57 The sudden orders for captain Hart's company to commence their march obliged me to undertake fatigue duty, which I thought myself hardly able to go through with, but 1 now find exercise has been of service to me. I am much better than when we first set out, but expect some inconvenience for the want of the full use of my arm. It is more than two months since the wound entirely healed, and my arm is considerably stiff and crooked. I never expect to have the full use of it again, but it is better than ever my friends here expected to see it. My life has been given to me as it were again, my health restored, and a space allowed me for repentance. The mercies and favours of a good GOD have laid me under such obligations to love and serve him, that perhaps I should be guilty of the blackest crime of ingratitude ever committed should I wilfully rebel against him who is the Author of all my mercies. At times an affecting sense of the unmerited favours I have received, makes me tremble for fear I should abuse them; and I bave trembled too lest I should by some means dishonour and wound religion. I feel at times as if I stood on ground where one mistep might injure the cause of truth in the eyes of some one. The faults and failings of professors have, perhaps, already done more to defeat the good effects and design of religion than any other thing. Some how or other I have gained an evidence, I believe with many, that I bave endeavoured, out of principle, (however imperfectly.) to walk a little in the fear of God. I do not know but I stand forth alone, and if I should be left to fall into vice and error, alas! the consequences. I say I stand on perilous ground when I look on one side and view the frailties and imperfections of human nature, the temptations we have to surmount, the passions we have to subdue, all inclining to lead us astray-looking on this side there is cause enough for trembling but when I look on the other side, and sometimes get a little sense of what strength there is in the all-sufficient God, to carry us safely through every scene we can possibly be called to act in life, it is enough for hope and comfortand if I could only be sure that I could always rest my confidence here, leaning on all-sufficient grace, through a Saviour's merits aloue, I believe rocks and mountains would sooner move than the promise fail, "as thy day is, so shall thy strength be." My dear sisters, pray for me.-I believe the path I have to walk in is narrower than yours. Many eyes are upon me, a poor frail mortal: on the one hand I have to fear complying too far with the customs and manners of the people my sta tion obliges me to be conversant witb; and on the other hand, that I shall, by too reserved and precise conduct cast a gloom oa that profession which should so animate the soul with pleasure as that it can be seen in the countenance. I pray God I may never offend him by sinful compli ance, and I also pray that by my conduct in life I may recommend virtue and religion to every one to be ways of pleasantness, that all may come and taste and find that the Lord is good. I wish to live in such habitual faith and stedfastness as to be enabled to stem the torrent of vice with immovable resolution, and to demonstrate to all around me that virtue is attainable, and that the practice of it affords joy and happiness, which will support the soul and calm it amidst afflictions, war and tumults. Religion never was designed to make a person spend his days in solitude, and lead a bermit's life: It never means to delude us from society. On the contrary, it makes us better citizens and better neighbours; and the more public the station in which a pious person is called to act, the more he is conversant with mankind, so much the greater advantages he has for doing good,of honouring God, and promoting the future well-being of his fellow-men. May I ever disapprove of such light mirth and vanity, such empty conversation as universally prevails. A cheerful countenance, expressive, of a calm, composed mind, and of joy within, is most reasonable.The soul will find cause enough, and a time for weeping, in secre! places, for its own sins, as well as for the corruption of the times.While vice abounds, what judg ments have we not to fear, and what is it preserves a guilty world! Alas! the licentiousness prevailing in the army. Such is the bewitching influence of vice that it soon possesses the mind of a soldier. Sometimes I get a little prospect, a little encouragement that there is strength in one who is mighty, sufficient to enable any one to overcome all temptations and persevere to the end. My dear sisters, I believe the good Lord has had mercy on you and shed abroad his love in your hearts. O fear, love and serve him all the days of your lives;persevere to the end-by your example invite others to come and trust in the Lord. The curtain will soon be drawn-the mortal scene close, and an immortal one open to view then every severe trial and struggle will be past, and infinitely more than compensated: There, on a green and flowery mount Our weary souls shall sit, And with transporting joys recount The labours of our feet. What shall we not endure to attain this happy end! O for a persevering power! May my soul be quickened to pray for it more! I wish much to see you: I think I shall be very happy in visiting my native State once more. My friends as well as relatives are all very near to me and often on my heart. About two thirds of my term of service is already gone; the other will soon pass away. If we should be spared till that time, I will come and see you all. I flatter myself with hopes of receiving a packet every day with letters from both of you, from my parents and the rest of my friends: always have something ready for an opportunity. I must finish this. Give my dutiful respects to our dear parents, my love to my brothers and sisters and little nieces-Give my love to all my good friends--I have written to several of them, and am waiting for an answer. From your most affectionate EBENEZER FROTHINGHAM. . After a long absence,Lieut.Frothingham returned home to Middletown from the western army to see his aged parents and friends, in the year 1789. January 16, 1790, be was married to Mary, daughter of Deacon Timothy Boardman. In April following the time was at hand for his return to his com mand in the army. The hour being come, they held each other by the hand, and he said, "let us kneel down and take our farewell together in prayer before God." As they prayed and wept, her tender heart was overcome--she swooned away. He left her to the care of her friends, and retired a little distance to his father's house, ready to sink under this parting scene.→→ He journeyed, and arrived safe at his destined post. May 25, 1790, his wife died suddenly. On the receipt of this melancholy intelli, gence he wrote to one of his sisters as follows: Pittsburgh, 22nd June, 1790. MY DEAR SARAH, I have just got alone and take my pen, but with an aching heart. You have a distressed brother in this distant clime, who, instead of administering comfort, wants the balm of consolation poured into his own wound-a wound which wilt not soon be healed. Your dear sister and my beloved partner is gone, and with her my greatest prospect of happiness on this side yonder world of glory. The most melancholy tidings for me I ever heard has soon reached us. I arri-. ved express at this place yesterday, at 12 o'clock. Lieut, Ernest the commanding officer, told me that he had, the evening before, received a packet of letters for me from the War Office; my heart gladdened in expectation of hearing from my wife. I happened first to open Mr. Parsons' letter enclosing my father's; immediately I perceived some one was dead. But O the you words to my dear sister are that astonishment of my soul when I found who was gone! I was obliged to leave the room abruptly. Mrs. Ernest perceived something agitated me, and desired Lieut. Ernest to follow me into the garden; he anxiously asked me what was the matter. I handed him the letters who were lovely in their lives, ter, begged he would return and acquaint Mrs. Ernest, and leave me alone in the garden. The first petition of my soul to GOD, was for a sanctified improvement of this most distressing providence, and that he would not leave me to immoderate grief. I have not forgotten my dear sisters, Betsey and Sarah, in my petitions. On the day I arrived, whilst I was riding through the woods, (with only a negro with me to take charge of the horses) my thoughts were much of the time with M. and my meditations turned upon examining my own soul-felt happy in regard to Mary, from this most gracious promise that all things shall work together for good to them who love God-that, let come what would, should I be taken away before her, (which I thought most probable,) I was persuaded it would still be well with her; and I was enabled with a degree of composure to commit her to the protection of her heavenly Father. But bow little did I then think she had already taken her fight to mansions above. This thought pours consolation into my soul; she is an infinite gainer. If it was not for this, I do not know that I could support myself. O my soul, art thou prepared to follow ber? then, come, come the welcome day. My dear Sarah, I propose to attend myself to this preparation first and above all. Will you join with me? Before your brother has another opportunity of convey ing the wishes of his heart, a ball from the savages may pierce his breast, and his friends be called a second time to mourn. My dying be only parted for a time.-Father of mercies, sanctify this stroke of thine for the good of my own soul; and the everlasting good of each of my brothers and sisters! Your kind letter I thank you much for, but the scene is so chang ed I cannot now answer it. Betsey and yourself must accept the small sum I have requested my father to give you. Purchase something with it to remember your mourning brother by. I need not ask you to mourn my loss, whilst you have to mourn so much for your own.Concerning what my father has mentioned, I do not at present feel in a situation to direct any thing; but lest I should write no more, it is my wish that what was Mary's, may be divided between my sis ters, Betsey and Sarah; only reserving something for me that will recal her dear self to my remembrance, if providence ever per mits my return, when our meeting will be a distressing one. 1 wish to continue where I am, alone in this chamber, but pressing business calls me away.-la grief 1 bid my dear sisters Adieu. EBENEZER FROTHINGHAM. TO MRS. LYDIA HALL. On my passage down the Ohio, 28th June, 1790. MY DEAR SISTER, * A few days since, I wrote my friends from Fort Pitt; in tears and sorrow. I wish now to unbosom myself to you. It is some relief under piercing sorrow to pour our grief into the bosom of our friends, and to feel that we bave those who really sympathize with us. under our afflictions. God in bis righteous providence has removed my best, my nearest earthly friend. If I should indulge the grief of my soul, this letter would contain nothing but my lamenta tions; my heart bleeds afresh when I reflect on my loss. My fair, my delightful prospects have faded; the most tender ties are suddenly broken, before I had said all I had wished, fondly expecting to meet again. O my sister! these are feelings my heart never before experienced; my heart almost failed me in the tender scene of part ing, which in prospect was but for a little while-but we meet no more in time. If I had not a God to go to, who I know is a prayer-hearing God, I fear my beart and flesh would fail. My consolation is far from being in this world, and blessed be God, I think I can say, he has not left me to murmur or repine, but helps me to acquiescence, and rather fills my soul with wonder and admiration for all his providential dealings with me since the first transports of my grief. I have been viewing the many circumstances which appear to me to have been merciful ly ordered to alleviate and miti gate this sore visitation. If I had postponed marrying to some future day, as was once proposed; and Mary bad died in my absence, it might have been impossible to have pursuaded me but that anxiety had preyed upon her constitution. I should never have forgiven myself. Or if I had removed with her to this country, and she had died soon alter, the circumstance would have distressed me more, for her friends would hardly have been persuaded but that she had taken too much at heart her parting with them. Al though the shock was greater by the suddenness of her death, yet it has much affected me that the Most High should deal so tenderly with her; that when he had determined to call her home to himself, it was almost without pain, and without giving her very susceptible heart any time for anxious thought about me. It would have been much more distressing, had she been for some time exercised with severe pain, and been anxious respecting me; but she fell asleep in Jesus. This belief has raised my thoughts and affec tions more above; they are less on the things of this world than ever they were before. I began to think that I was living too much for my dear wife: my object and pursuit was to make her comforta ble, and provide for a family. She divided my wavering mind, and left but half for God. It has been for some time one subject of mỹ petition at the Throne of Grace, that I might be weaned from a too eager pursuit after riches and honours, and that my heavenly Father, who knows what is best for me, would grant me but to say, thy will be done. But Oh! how little did I think that this would be his will, or that when be gave me the wife of my bosom, that this would be the way he would take to wean me from this world. My wife is gone, and with her the attachment I had to earthly objects. Of what God has blessed me with, she wants none: I am willing to leave all for the comfort of my friends, and when it is God's will, bid you adieu, to join my kindredspirit above. I am determined to set about trimming my lamp. I wish to stand ready at a moment's warning, and if through condescending love, and rich mercy, my soul should be numbered amongst the blessed, will not the spirit of my dear departed wife be amongst the first to welcome to the happy and blissful regions of immortality the partner she so soon and so sud denly left behind. This is a delightful thought, and I hope we may indulge it. Ob my sisters! 'what a consolation it is that we may |