the good people in H. for their kindness to me for Jesus' sake, (referring to the contributions which had been made to the missionary cause, and to personal kindnesses.) Tell your own dear people from me, that they hear for eternity, -last Monday I was in the world, active, but now am dying. So it may be with any of them. Oh, if they would but realize the solemn purport of the fact that they hear for eternity, it would arouse them all from slumber, and cause them to attend, without delay, to the things that belong to their eternal peace. Tell them, oh tell them, to aim at a higher standard of piety, and to live more in devotedness to Christ and his cause. To one who is dying, there is an immeasurable disparity between the standard of piety as it now is, and as it ought to be. When one comes to die, this subject appears of infinite importance.' About this time he requested Dr. H. to give a copy of the two works which he has published to each of his children, ' and pay for them,' said he, with my money as the last present of their dying father.' Sometime on Saturday he uttered, as nearly as can be remembered, the following sentences. 'It grieves me that there is so much appearance, and so much of the reality of pride among the dear children of God, and especially among ministers. I have felt it in myself, and desire to be humbled before God on account of it. Before the best days of the church arrives, there must be a correction of this evil, and a return to a humble, childlike and submissive spirit.' The following remark was made, says Dr. H., with awful solemnity. His words were measured as if they were the last he was to utter. His eyes at first were raised. 'I feel that God has called me to a great work. I want to have every thing done right, strait, just as would be pleasing to the mind of Christ, whose mind I consider the only perfect standard of right in the universe. I have long felt scruples, whether if Christ were on earth, he would approve of the

distinctions which exist in the church. I refer to the honorary titles which are conferred on ministers. It is my wish that nothing that may ever come before the world with my name, may have a title appended to it.' Saturday evening, supposing that he might continue but a few hours, I said to him, remarks Dr. H., 'My dear brother, our conversation has been abundantly gratifying to my heart, and it is proper you should prepare for the change which you apprehend to be near. But there is still hope in your case. I wish you to admit to your bosom all the hope that there is, and to lie in the hands of God like a little child.' I can never forget his reply.—There was an indescribable tenderness and solemnity in his voice, and manner. " Now, brother, there is one thing more, I wish to say. If it please God to bring me thus far, and then to say, tarry thou here a while longer, or take me away now, let his glorious will be done.'"

Mrs. E., who was with him Saturday afternoon, and also through the night, writes, "After he was relieved of his first spasm, which was about twelve o'clock at noon, he commenced praying, audibly. The leading object of his prayer, was to obtain entire faith in the merits of Christ, for acceptance, dwelling especially on the atonement made by his death; asking, with great earnestness, to be washed in the blood of Christ. This prayer was longer than any that I heard, and less interrupted by suffering, was uniformly fervent, and, before he closed, manifested the most bright and confiding views of the Saviour. I have not words to describe the impression made on my benighted understanding by the expression of his views of the glory of the Redeemer. But this much I may say to you, it was delightful to me to hear such praise, and I listened with intense interest, to observe the operations of the Holy Spirit, in preparing such a mind to enter upon its final state of existence. After a short silence, he

became restless, and spoke of his mind as wandering. To my inquiry whether he felt his reason waver, he said, Not at all, but my thoughts wander from those subjects upon which they ought to be fixed, to objects with which I have done, adding, suppose you try the effect of the fourteenth chapter of John. To this he gave close attention, occasionally joining, as I read, in the repetition of a verse, thrice repeating the closing clause of the twenty-seventh verse. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." Here we interrupt Mrs. E.'s narrative, to say that the course of his mind at this time is obvious. The objects with which he had done,' probably were his wife, children and mother, and he sought to strengthen his faith, and allay every anxiety by meditating upon the promises and tender encouragements of this precious chapter; hence his double repetition of the twenty-seventh verse. "After sending a message to a relative, charging her to make reconciliation with God the object of her life, he was seized with great suffering, though not with such severe spasms as he had endured, but he certainly supposed himself, at this time, to be dying. When able to articulate, he commenced praying again. The object for which he specially prayed, was submission to the divine will, respecting his sufferings; entreating us to join him in asking that he might not, in any moment of agony, be left to dishonor God. There was evidently a shrinking of the flesh, from the sufferings laid upon him; while in the spirit of his Master, he strove to say, 'The cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?' And abundant evidence was given, before he closed that prayer, that he could add, 'nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done.' After this period of pain and mental suffering was over, he remained, as it were, with the quietness of a child, in the hands of his Father, expressing his thanks to those about him, and his willingness that any thing

should be done that was thought best or advisable for him. About this time he said to me, 'Why am I continued here, there must be something for me to do or to say. I think I could willingly remain till to-morrow morning in all this distress, if I could do any good to any one. I have a word for Mrs. H.'s little daughter.-Tell her a dying man sends her his message.-Choose religion young, choose it young, that a long life may be spent in the service of the Redeemer.' Soon after this, he asked me if I could sing. I told him I could not, but began repeating in a soft, low tone, 'These glorious minds, how bright they shine.' He seemed quieted, and while I was engaged in bathing his hands and repeating them, fell asleep for a few moments, and seemed to gain rest and strength. After he awoke, and a little time had elapsed in giving him medicine, and nourishment, and arranging his pillows, he inquired what time it was. On being told it was nearly seven o'clock, he expressed surprise that he still continued here, and again dwelt on the idea that God had something for him to do. I ventured to remark that if God had yet any thing for him to do, he would himself lead him in the way he should go, and show him what he required of him, adding, though your present state is extremely critical, we are not absolutely without hope, that you may yet be restored to health, and future usefulness. For an instant, something like a gleam of sunshine, passed over his features, but after a moment of thought, he raised his eyes to me, and said, 'Stop, my dear madam, there are temptations in a dying bed which you know not of.' I felt rebuked. I felt that I had been willing to detain a soul for usefulness here, that God required to serve him in heaven. After this, very little was said, till he commenced a prayer for humility; to be emptied of self, to abase himself and place God on the throne, was the language of his heart, and this petition, like those which

preceded it, seemed to be granted while he was yet speaking. O what amazing progress in holiness was made in these few hours! The object for which he prayed, the evident answer to his prayer, by the manifestation of that grace for which he prayed, and the strong faith by which he took hold on eternal life, were to me most apparent and wonderful exhibitions of the operations of the divine Spirit. I cannot doubt that the Spirit of God was with him in a peculiar manner, any more than I doubt my own existence. You see that I have not so much to tell you of what he said to me or others, as you might expect, but his prayers were the striking circumstances, and of these, I can only give you this general account. At the time, they seemed to me like one gleam of glory, and I felt not only that the spot where I stood, was holy, but that I was almost translated with his spirit, unto the immediate presence of my God, my Judge, and that I longed to be washed in that blood in which his soul bathed."

Mr. F. P., who was with him from seven o'clock on Saturday evening, until eight on Sabbath morning, writes the following: "Going to his bedside about eight in the evening, perceiving that his eyes were shut, I heard him say in an audible voice, 'Blessed Saviour, thy will be done.' A short time afterward, while Drs. B. and K., and myself were by him, he said, Dr. B., if I should die now, and you should wish to make a post mortem examination, to ascertain the cause of my disease, you are at perfect liberty to do so, for the benefit of others. I have no objection. I said to him, the nature of your disease is perfectly obvious, your friends are at no loss respecting it. To which Dr. B. assented, and said there is nothing complicated or difficult to be known. Supposing, as I thought, that our remarks were intended to allay any anxiety he might have as to his situation, he soon added, 'Harriet Newell's physician told her to put away such gloomy