"Now all these reflections returned with a mill-stone's weight on my heart. I cried to the Lord, and those words were deeply impressed on my spirit, 'Where I am, there shall my servants be, that they may behold my glory.' This promise was full of matter as well as unction to my soul. It explained itself thus, that in Christ's immediate presence was our home, and that we should I refind our reunion in being deeply centred in him. ceived it as a fresh marriage for eternity. As such I still take, and trust for ever to hold it. All that day, whenever I thought of this expression, 'to behold my glory,' it seemed to wipe every tear away, and was as the ring by which we were joined anew.

'Awaking sometime after, he said, 'Polly, I will tell you what I have been thinking of—It was Israel's fault that they asked for signs; we will not do so; but abandoning our whole selves into the hands of God, we will there lie patiently before him, assured that he will do all things well.'

My dear love, said I, if ever I have done or said any thing to grieve thee, how will the remembrance wound my heart, shouldst thou be taken from me!'

"He entreated and charged me, with inexpressible tenderness, not to allow the thought; declaring his thankfulness for our union, in a variety of words, which remain written on my heart, as with the adamantine pen of friendship deeply dipt in blood.

"On Wednesday, after groaning all day as it were under the weight of the power of God, he told me, he had received such a manifestation of the full meaning of that word, 'God is love,' as he could never be able to tell. It fills me, said he; it fills me every moment. Polly! my dear Polly! God is love! shout, shout aloud— Oh! it so fills me, I want a gust of praise to go to the ends of the earth. But it seems as if I could not speak much longer; let us fix on a sign between ourselves, (tapping me twice with his dear finger,) now I mean

'God is love, and we will draw each other into God: observe! by this we will draw each other into God.'

Sally coming in, he cried out, O Sally! God is love!' shout both of you ;-I want to hear you shout his praise. Indeed it was a season of love. All this time, the medical friend who attended him with unwearied diligence, hoped he was in no danger. He knew it to be the fever, but as he had no bad head-ach, much sleep, without the least delirium, and an almost regular pulse, seldom much quicker than my own, he thought the symptoms amazingly mild; for though the disease was commissioned to take his life, yet it seemed so restrained by the power of God, that we truly discerned in it the verity of those words, Death is yours.

"On Thursday his speech began to fail. While he was able he continued speaking to all who came in his way. Accidentally hearing that a stranger was in the house, he ordered her to be called up, though uttering two sentences almost made him faint. To his friendly Doctor, he would not be silent while he had any power of speech; often saying, O Sir, you take much thought for my body, give me leave to take thought for your soul.' And I believe his words will remain with that friend for ever. When I could scarcely understand any thing he said, I spoke these words, 'God is love!' Instantly he catched them, as if all his powers were awakened afresh, and broke out in a rapture, ' God is love, love, love! O for that gust of praise I want to sound.'-Here his dear voice again failed. He was restless, and often suffered many ways, but with such patience, as none but those who were with him can conceive. If I named his sufferings-he would smile, and make the sign.

On Friday, finding his dear body covered with spots, I so far understood them, as to feel a sword pierce through my soul. As I was kneeling by his bed, with my hand in his, entreating the Lord to be with us in this

tremendous hour, he strove to say many things, but could not: pressing my hand, and often repeating the sign, at last he breathed out- Head of the church, be head to my wife." When for a few moments I was forced to leave him, to gather up some sheets of one of his manuscripts, which I feared would be lost,-Sally said to him, My dear master, do you know me?' He replied, Sally, God will put his right-hand under you.' She added, 'O my dear master, should you be taken away, what a disconsolate creature will my poor dear mistress be!' He replied, ' God will be her all in all.' He had always delighted much in these words,

"Jesu's blood thro' earth and skies,

Mercy, free, boundless mercy cries !"

And whenever I repeated them to him, would answer, boundless, boundless, boundless! and in allusion to them, he now replied, though with great difficulty,

Mercy's full power I soon shall prove,
Lov'd with an everlasting love."

On Saturday afternoon his fever seemed quite off, and a few Christian friends standing near the bed, he reached his hand to each of them, and looking on a Minister, who was weeping by him, he said, 'Are you ready to assist to-morrow?' Which recollection of his amazed us much, as the day of the week had not been named in his room. Most about him could not but believe he was better, and would get over it. One said, 'Do you think that the Lord will raise you up?—He strove to answer, saying, 'Raise in resur-———, raise in resur ,' meaning in the resurrection. To another who asked the same question, he said, 'I leave it all to God.'

"In the evening his fever returned with violence, and the mucus falling on the windpipe occasioned him to be almost strangled. He suffered greatly; and it was

feared the same painful emotion would continue and grow more violent to the last. This I felt most exquisitely, and cried to the Lord to remove it; and glory be to his name he did remove it; and it returned no more in that way. As night drew on, I thought I perceived him dying very fast; his fingers could now hardly move to make the sign, (which he seemed scarce ever to forget) and his speech, as it seemed, was quite gone. I said, I said, My dear creature, I ask not for myself, I know thy soul, but for the sake of others; if Jesus is very present with thee, lift thy right-hand.' He did so I added, 'If the prospect of glory sweetly opens before thee, repeat the sign.' He then raised it again—and in a half a minute a second time, then threw it up with all his remaining strength, as if he would reach the top of the bed! After this his dear hands moved no more; but on my saying, 'Art thou in much pain?' He answered, 'No.' From this time he entered into a state that might be called a kind of sleep, though with eyes open and fixed, and his hands utterly void of any motion. For the most part he sat upright against pillows, with his head a little inclined to one side, and so remarkably composed and triumphant was his countenance, that the least trace of death was scarcely discernible in it.

ઃઃ

Twenty-four hours, my dearly beloved was in this situation, breathing like a person in common sleep.About 35 minutes past ten on Sunday night, August 14th, withhis precious soul entered into the joy of the Lord, out one struggle or groan,-in the 56th year of his age. "Often he had said, when hearing of happy deaths, Well, let us get holy lives, and we will leave the rest to God.-But I, who was scarce a minute at a time from him night or day, can truly say, that there was the strongest reason to believe,

"No cloud did arise, to darken the skies,

Or hide for one moment his Lord from his eyes."

"And here I break off my mournful story! I could say abundance more; but on my bleeding heart his fair picture of heavenly excellence will be for ever drawn.— When I call to mind his ardent zeal, his laborious endeavours to seek and save the lost-his diligence in the employment of his time-his Christlike condescension towards me, and his uninterrupted converse with heaven, I may well be allowed to add, my loss is beyond the power of words to paint. O Sir, you know I have trodden deep waters, but all my afflictions were nothing compared to this.' Well, I want no pleasant prospect, but upwards-nor any thing whereon to fix my hope, but immortality.

"On the 17th, his dear remains were deposited in Madely Church-yard; amid the tears and lamentations of thousands, who flocked about the bier of their dead Pastor. Between the house and the church they sung these

verses,

"With heavenly weapons he hath fought

The battles of the Lord;

Finish'd his course, and kept the faith,
And gain'd the great reward.

God hath laid up in heaven for him

A crown which cannot fade ;

The righteous Judge, at that great day,
Shall place it on his head."

“The service was performed by the Rev. Mr. Hatton, Rector of Waters-upton, whom the Lord moved in a pathetic manner, to speak to his weeping flock on the sad occasion. In the conclusion, at my request, he read the following paper

"As it was the desire of my beloved husband to be buried in this plain manner, so out of tenderness, he begged that I might not be present; and in all things I would obey him.