Lancaster gazette. [volume] (Lancaster, Mass.) 1828-1830, 1829-01-13
Their, who, from that time, forbid the cler-

Their, who, from that time, forbid the cler-
gyman from entering his house.
Before preceding further l must in
form my readers that Conway, with all his
wealth, was an unhappy. man, and sorely
tormented by an accusingconscience. He
did not, like many, attempt to drown the
voice of that faithful monitor within, by a
resort to the inebriating goblet. But, to
conceal his wretchedness from the pub
lick, he spent much of his time in solitude,
and frequently at night, without regard
to the state of the weather, would he wan
der through the neighbouring country,
land not return till morning. He and his
daughter had Just finished their evening
meal on very sultry day in summer,
when he informed her he intended to walk
out. Matilda directed his attention to the
gloomy clouds that lowered in the west,
and gave token that more than usually
terrific thunder storm was approaching,
and kindly, but in vain, demonstrated with
] him on the danger of exposing himself
on such an awful night as was about to
overtake them. He had been gone but
little time ere the storm broke forth with
tremendous fury, threatening every thing
within its reach with destruction. The
heavens appeared to be on fire, and the
thunder grew louder and more alarming
at each successive peal. Hour after hour
passed away, and the storm still ragged,
nor did it abate till after day-break. Con-
way had not returned, and Matilda, who
had passed the night under the most fear
full apprehensions of his fate, was prepar-
ing to go in search Of him, when knock
ing was heard at the door-on opening
which one of the neighbours appeared,
who impaired, in language calculated least
to alarm her, the intelligence that her ia
Their had, during the night, missed his way
and fallen into pit, by which he was so
much injured that he was not able to
reach home without assistance, and that
he would soon be brought to the house by
men who had been sent for that purpose.
Every possible preparation was made to
receive him, and in short time he was
beneath his own roof, where all the surgi-
cal help that could be procured, was adj
ministered to him. His lovely daughter,
like ministering angel, watched by his
bedside and endeavoured to anticipate
his wishes. She saw him gradually sink
/ ing into the grave, and ventured to talk
of those subjects to which she deemed it
important that his attention should be
turned She spoke of the love Of God
manifested in the gift of his Son, of the
promises made in the gospel to the peni-
tent sinner, of the holiness of God, and
the necessity of repentance and faith in
the Lord Jesus. But she perceived tirat
such conversation was extremely disagree
able to her father, and did not for several
weeks allude to these topicks, when she
once more spoke of them, and in addition,
entreated him to become reconciled to
Mr.. Worthington. Her pious efforts were,
however, unavailing, and all she could
obtain was his. consent that she might
daily read to him portion of the Scrip
lures.
Conway had until this time cherished
hope that he would recover, but he was
now convinced that his end drew nigh,
and that in little time he would be an
inhabitant of eternity; and it was to this
conviction that Matilda was indebted for
whatever success attended her endeavours
to awaken her fathers mind to serious
concerns. Hitherto, when she had talk
ed of religion and the present enjoyments
and glorious prospects of those who en-
braced it, he had scoffed at these things
as only worthy the attention OF old women
and fools, and weak-minded men. But
now be began to be sensible of his danger
and his need of something to support him
in his affection. His daughter continued
to point him to the refuge provided by the
gospel, but he as constantly affirmed that
there might be hope for every wretch on
earth but him; that he had cut himself
entirely off from every reason to expect
that mercy would be extended to him.
After the lapse of few weeks Matilda
with delight heard him request her to
send for Mr.. Wellington, for said he,
L wish to ask his pardon for my unklnd-
ness towards him, and, though have no
hope Of Heavens forgiveness, yet, if the
prayers of mortals may be heard in my
behalf, they will be those OF that holy
man. His desire was complied with, and
when the messenger arrived at the house
of the good Pastor he was SO engaged in
contemplation as not at first to perceive
his entrance. 1t was beautiful calm
evening in October. The sun had just
cone down, and his departing rays were
Illuminating the heavens with that magni-
6cent variety of brilliant colours which
gives an unrivalled splendour to a North
American autumnal sunset. Mr.. Worth
ington (who was an enthusiastick admirer
Of nature) was gazing intently on the
oJorv of the scene, and thinking how like
to such going down of the sun, was the
death of the righteous, when Conway'sI
request was made known to him. Dlscl-
| n l.