THE CHRISTIAN OBSERVER. No. 239.] NOVEMBER, 1821. No. 11. Vol. XX. RELIGIOUS COMMUNICATIONS. BRIEF MEMOIR OF THE LATE ried with him, into both these opposite pursuits, an energy of mind and of feeling which rendered him more than ordinarily susceptible of I readers the following interest- the enjoyments, which either of ing and useful memoir, for which we are indebted to a friend, it is only necessary to state, for the sake of those of them who are unacquainted with the name of Dr. Bateman, that he was a physician of considerable eminence in London, and well known as the author of several medical works which we believe are held in high estimation in the profession; besides which he conducted the medical department of Dr. Rees's Encyclopedia, and was joint editor of the Edinburgh Medical Journal. His zeal and abili-ty in superintending a Public Dispensary, and the House of Recovery or Fever Hospital, in London, were highly beneficial to those in stitutions, and to the public. He expired last April, at Whitby, in Yorkshire, in the prime of life, at the age of forty-three years.. For the Christian Observer. The late Dr. Bateman settled in London soon after his graduation at Edinburgh in the year 1801; and his professional merits being very considerable, he was speedily elected Physician to two public institutions-a large Dispensary and the House of Recovery for Fever. He continued to distinguish himself, as he had done in Edinburgh, by his zeal and industry in the pursuit of science and literature; though he contrived to mix with his severer studies a large portion of the dissipations of gay society, and carCHRIST. OBSERV. No. 239. them can afford. He always retained a high "sense of honour," as it is called, and was strictly careful to avoid, in all his conduct, discreditable. He lived, however, to every thing that the world esteems had no conception of, how meagre see and to feel, what at that time he the world is satisfied with, coma system of morality is that which pared with the comprehensive morality of the Gospel-that Christian holiness without which "no man shall see the Lord." His habits of life thus concurring with the natural corruption of the human heart, and God, he soon became confirmed in estranging him more and more from his leaning to the wretched doctrine of Materialism, which he had been already tempted to adopt during the pursuit of his anatomical and physiological studies at Edinburgh. This lamentable tendency was strongly increased by the society which he now fell into of some men of considerable talent, who had already espoused all the principles of that unphilosophical as well as unchristian system; and though never able fully to embrace those opinions himself, he was yet sufficiently influenced by them to become sceptical respecting the truth of Divine Revelation, and was therefore of course a stranger to the hopes, as well as negligent of the duties, of Christianity. In the summer of 1815, his health began to decline, and in the 4 T following year a complaint in his eyes came on, which threatened loss of sight, and precluded him from all his accustomed sources of occupation and amusement. Under these circumstances, the writer of this memoir became his constant companion and attendant; and for four years had the misery of witnessing his total estrangement from God and religion. His health continuing to decline, he left London in July 1819, with an intention of trying the effect of a sulphurous water at Middleton, in the county of Durham, on his debilitated constitution. He was taken ill on the road, and with difficulty reached a village near Beverley, in Yorkshire; where he was obliged to remain during the following winter; and finding, at length, that his health required the sacrifice, he finally determined not to attempt returning to London. He had for some time been subject to attacks of the most alarming nervous languor, during which he was thought by all around him, as well as by himself, to be dying; and these now returned upon him continually, especially after using the least bodily exertion. During the winter he was considerably better; but on the return of warm weather, early in the spring of 1820, he had a severe attack of languor after a short ride. His dread of these attacks was so great, and they were brought on so frequently by the smallest fatigue, that he gradually relinquished all exertion, as he even believed that the exhaustion which would be produced by the effort of walking across a room, might prove fatal. It was on Sunday the 9th of April that he first spoke to me on the subject of religion. He had passed the whole of the day in a state of extraordinary suffering, from languor, and a variety of nervous feelings, which he always said it was impossible to describe, farther than that they were inconceivably painful and distressing; and he went to bed at night with a firm persuasion that he should never again quit it; and, in fact, he did confine himself to it for the following three weeks, from the mere apprehension of the consequences of exertion.-Religion was a subject which, for many reasons, had never been discussed between us. Though the tenour of his life had made me but too well acquainted with the state of his mind, he had always avoided any declaration of his opinions, knowing the pain it would give me to hear them. He was habitually fond of argument, and skilled in it; and I knew that I was quite incompetent to argue with him. I considered too that the habit of disputing in favour of any opinion, only serves, in general, to rivet it the more firmly in the mind; men commonly finding their own arguments more convincing than those of their adversaries. And, above all, I knew that this was a case in which mere argument must always be insufficient,-for "it is with the heart that man believeth unto righteousness:" and in most, if not all, cases of scepticism, the will and the affections need to be set right even more than the understanding; and upon these argument can have no influence.-On the evening of the day I have mentioned, Dr. Bateman had been expressing to me his conviction that he could not live much longer, and complaining of the dreadful nervous sensations which continually harassed him; and then he added, "But all these sufferings are a just punishment for my long scep ticism, and neglect of God and religion." This led to a conversation, in the couse of which he observed, that medical men were very generally sceptical; and that the mischief arose from what he considered a natural tendency of some of their studies to lead to materialism. I replied, that the mischief appeared to me to originate rather in their neglect to examine into the evidences of the truth of the Bible, as an actual revelation from God: because, if a firm conviction of that were once established, the authority of the Scriptures must be paramount; and the tendency of all inferior studies, in opposition to their declarations, could have no weight. He said, he believed I was right, and that he had in fact been intending to examine fully into the subject, when the complaint in his eyes came on, and shut him out from reading. Our conversation ended in his permitting me to read to him the first of Scott's " Essays on the most important Subjects in Religion," which treats of " The Divine Inspiration of the Scriptures." He listened with intense earnestness; and when it was concluded, exclaimed, "This is demonstration! complete demonstration !" He then asked me to read to him the account given in the New Testament of the resurrection of our Saviour; which I did from all the four Evangelists. I read also many other passages of Scripture, with some of which he was extremely struck; especially with that declaration, that "the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned." (1 Cor. ii. 14.) For two or three days he shewed increasing interest in the subject of religion; and I read to him continually the Scriptures, and other books which seemed to me best calculated to give him the information he thirsted for. When I went into his room a few mornings after, he said, "It is quite impossible to describe to you the change which has taken place in my mind: I feel as if a new world was opened to me, and all the interests and pursuits of this have faded into nothing in comparison with it. They seem so mean, and paltry, and insignificant, that my blindness, in living so long immersed in them, and devoted to them, is quite inconceivable and astonishing to myself." He often expressed in the strongest terms, and with many tears, his deep repentance, and his abhorrence of himself for his former sinful life and rebellion against God; but he seemed to have from the first so clear a view of the all-sufficiency of the Saviour's atonement, and of the Christian scheme of salvation, as freed him at once from that distrust of forgiveness which is so apt to afflict persons at the first sight of their sins, and of the purity and holiness of Him" with whom they have to do." The self-abasing views which he entertained of himself necessarily enhanced his sense of the pardoning love and mercy of God in Christ Jesus, thus graciously extended to him; and which he felt so strongly, that be was filled with the liveliest emotions of gratitude and joy, and in this happy state continued for several days. He soon, however, experienced an afflicting reverse of feeling. One evening I left him to visit a near relative, at that time confined to her room in a precarious state of health; and his mother, who had been in attendance upon her, took my place at the bed-side of her son. Dr. Bateman told her, that I had been reading to him various detached portions of Scripture, and that he now wished to hear the New Testament read regularly through from the beginning. She consequently began to read, and had proceeded as far as the tenth chapter of St. Matthew, when he suddenly exclaimed, that he could not believe in the miracles of the Saviour, and that therefore he must perish for ever. This suggestion of his spiritual enemy threw him into a state of the most dreadful anguish, and I was immediately sent for to his bed-side. On my arrival he had become a little more composed, but was still in great agitation; and was It needs scarcely be pointed out, how much more properly this might be lief itself. While the difficulty of becalled temptation to unbelief, than unbelieving was felt, the awful consequences of not believing were fully admitted; that is, were firmly believed. praying in agony to be saved, and the absurdity of them, in many instances, was so obvious, that his judgment detected it at once, though he still had not power to drive them from the hold they took on his imagination, or to banish them, for the time, from his thoughts. These paroxysms of distress and conflict, which sometimes lasted many hours, he continued subject to for about a fortnight: but they gradually became less long and violent, and he experienced increasingly great relief from prayer during their continuance; till at length they subsided entirely, and left his mind satisfied on all those points which had before presented so many obstacles to his belief. About this time be received an unexpected visit from a medical friend, whose piety and truly Christian character distinguish him still more than his eminent abilities and professional skill. This gentleman, with great difficulty, succeeded in persuading him that he was by no means in that state of danger and debility which he had apprehended, and that he had the power of taking exercise if he could but exert sufficient resolution to attempt it. Experiment convinced him that this opinion was correct: he was prevailed on to leave his bed, and in a very few days was able to be some hours daily in the open air, and to take considerable exercise; and it is remarkable, that from this time he had no return of languor after fatigue, except in one instance. Thus was he delivered, by the gracious providence of God, from those overwhelming apprehensions of immediate death, which had been so instrumental in bringing him to Christ, as soon as they had effected that blessed pur tural habits, and was silent on the subject that most deeply interested him. Still it was abundantly evident that it did interest him. The avidity with which he listened to the word of God-his eagerness to attend public worship (which for many years he had entirely neglected), and the heartfelt and devout interest which he obviously took in the service-his enlarged and active benevolence the change which had taken place in his tastes, inclinations, and pursuits-all testified that he was indeed "brought out of darkness into marvellous light:""old things had passed away, and all things had become new." In the course of the summer his health and strength were considerably recruited: but towards the close of it, a little over-exertion in walking brought on an accession of fever, and a great aggravation of all the symptoms of his disorder; but still he continued able to take a little exercise. While he remained in the country he had much leisure, which was devoted entirely to religious reading; for every other subject had now become insipid and uninteresting to him; and never did the pursuits of science and literature afford him such vivid enjoyment as he now received from these hallowed studies. In November he removed to Whitby for the winter and his health continued in much the same state till a short time before Christmas, when a walk, rather longer than usual, again produced increased fever and debility; and from that period his strength and appetite visibly declined, while his spirit was as visibly ripening for heaven. His faith and patience were strengthened; his hope was increased, his charity enlarged yet he was naturally so extremely reserved in the expression of his feelings, that he rarely spoke of them till within the last month of his life, when he rejoiced "with a joy unspeakable and full of glory," which bore down all op position; for he experienced a happiness to which all the accumulated enjoyments of his whole previous life could bear no proportion or comparison, even that "peace of God" which "passeth all understanding," and which must be felt, or at least witnessed, in order to form any just conception of its nature and effects. What a striking example did our dying friend now exhibit to us! From his early youth he had devoted himself with delight and industry to the acquisition of knowledge and the pursuits of literature and science; and he had "had his reward" in the honour and reputation which his success had procured for him-a reward which he keenly enjoyed and very highly prized. Those who have known only the pleasures which arise from worldly gratifications, surely ought to recollect, that, being confessedly ignorant of those spiritual enjoyments which they despise, they cannot be competent to decide upon their reality or their value: it belongs only to those who have experienced both, to appreciate either. And how did Dr. Bateman appreciate them? In contrasting, as he frequently did, his present happiness with all that he had formerly enjoyed and called happiness, he seemed always at a loss to find words to express how poor, and mean, and despicable all earthly gratifications appeared to him, when compared with that "joy and peace in believing," which now filled his soul; and one particle of which," he sometimes said, "ten thousand worlds would not tempt him to part with." And it should be remembered, that this was not the evidence of a man disappointed in his worldly pursuits: he had already, as before observed, "had his reward" in this world-he had experienced the utmost success in the path which he had chosen-he had been keenly susceptible of intellectual pleasures; and of these, as well as of all inferior amusements, he had enjoyed more than a com 66 |