422 
Charles  Bullock. 
(  Am.  Jour.  Pharm. 
1  September,  1900. 
In  1897,  the  history  of  St.  Peter's  Church,  Germantown,  in  the  city 
of  Philadelphia,  by  Rev.  Theodore  S.  Rumney,  D.D.,  and  Charles 
Bullock,  was  published.  The  style  of  this  historical  sketch  indi- 
cates very  largely  the  pen  of  Charles  Bullock. 
His  kindly  disposition,  his  cheering  words  of  comfort  and  advice, 
the  personal  sacrifices,  the  unpublished  charities,  the  faithfulness 
with  which  every  duty  was  performed,  and,  above  all,  the  silent 
eloquence  of  a  life  diligently  spent  in  the  service  of  the  Master, 
symbolize  the  thought,  though  unexpressed  by  him, 
"  Thy  presence  through  my  journey  shine, 
and  crown  my  journey's  end." 
During  the  greater  portion  of  his  life  Charles  Bullock  had  enjoyed 
exceptionally  good  health.  In  recent  years  he  had  complained  of 
neuralgia  and  rheumatism.  The  decease  of  his  associate  in  busi- 
ness, Mr.  Edmund  A.  Crenshaw,  on  February  19,  1894,  a^ter  Dut 
a  very  brief  illness,  was  a  severe  blow  to  him,  from  which  he  never 
recovered.  His  friends  noticed  the  change  and  endeavored  to  in- 
duce him  to  take  a  much-needed  rest,  but  as  long  as  strength  per- 
mitted he  insisted  upon  daily  visiting  the  store  and  attending  to 
business. 
Finally,  with  body  weakened  and  strength  consumed  by  years  of 
activity,  his  will  could  no  longer  dominate  exhausted  nature,  and  he 
was  compelled  to  take  to  his  bed.  His  last  illness  extended  over  a 
period  of  five  weeks,  and  while  complicated  with  phlebitis  and  an 
attack  of  pneumonia,  his  decease  was  really  due  to  physical  ex- 
haustion. He  passed  away  from  this  life  peacefully  at  his  home, 
1017  Clinton  Street,  Philadelphia,  on  March  21,  igDO,  and  inter- 
ment was  mide  at  Wilmington,  Del.,  March  24th. 
"  Sure  the  last  end 
Of  the  good  man  is  peace  !    How  calm  his  exit ! 
Night  dews  fall  not  more  gently  to  the  ground, 
Nor  weary  worn-out  winds  expire  so  soft. 
Behold  him  in  the  even-tide  of  life — 
A  life  well  spent — whose  early  care  it  was 
His  riper  years  should  not  upbraid  his  green: 
By  unperceived  degrees  he  wears  away  ; 
Yet,  like  the  sun,  seems  larger  at  his  setting." 
G.  M.  B. 
