of pain. Though the outward man perish, the inward man shall be renewed day by day. I am in the hands of one who is too wise to err, and too good to be unkind."

In a few days from the date of the foregoing letter he wrote to inform his parents that he was about to come home, in the hope, as he observes, that good nursing and a few months' leisure might, under the blessing of GoD, be the means of his restoration to health and vigour;-upon which he adds, "But should the insatiate archer, death, strike his dart through my vitals, and drag my captive body to his dark domain, the house appointed for all living,' yet I think a consideration that the last sad offices of nature were performed by parental hands, would, in some measure, mitigate the pains of dying, and increase my sense of obligation to that GREAT BEING in whose hand my breath is, and whose are all my ways. However, it is the LORD; let him do what seemeth him good; though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.'"

When about to leave Exeter, Mr. Prestage made these remarks in his journal; "November 5, 1818. How mysterious to us are the ways of Providence. This day twelvemonths, I left my father's house, in order to enter upon the great work of an itinerant preacher, without any doubt of my physical ability for the work. But, lo! I am now meditating my return home as an invalid. What is man, whose breath is in his nostrils?' I have for some time been fighting against my disorder. But, alas! I am at length obliged to yield; nature being unable to overcome the power of fell disease. I have agreed to leave the circuit, and go home next Wednesday. It is with considerable reluctance I leave the post of duty, because I believe I have been, and am likely, if I continue, to be useful among the people. Last Sunday, at Salterton, a young man found peace with God while I was preaching from this text,One thing is needful;' and, in general, there appears to be an improvement in religious feelings in our congregations and societies. However, it is the LORD who calls me from the work, and I desire to be all resignation to his sacred will, knowing that infinite wisdom and goodness can only do that which is best to be done; and I humbly pray that when he hath tried me, he will bring me forth as gold. Amen."

He accordingly left Exeter on the 18th of November, and after resting a day and a night at Salisbury, arrived in London on the 20th. Immediately upon his arrival the writer visited him; and was much affected to witness his emaciated state. He appeared but as the shadow of what he was. Disease had stripped him of his energy, and plucked from him the charms of youth. The wintry blast had nipped the early foliage of the tree, and left it unadorned;-an emblem of the mutability of every thing beneath the skies. His nervous system, as though

unstrung, had now yielded to a susceptibility that bespoke a constitution quickly hastening to decay. And never were the following words of CoWPER the language of experience, if not then, in the case of Mr. Prestage,

"To the fair haven of my native home,

The wreck of what I was, fatigu'd I come."

During his confinement, every mean was resorted to that appeared likely to turn the torrent of his disease, but in vain. He who hath appointed a time unto man, had fixed the boundary of his labours here; and made him meet to be a partaker with the saints in glory everlasting. Some few months after his arrival at home, his friends flattered themselves that his disorder was abating; but several weeks before he died many supposed that period was near at hand. In his severe affliction his Christian experience was not joyous, neither was his death so triumphant as that of many an humble follower of the LORD. However, we are assured, that this was by Divine permission; for the energy of his mind was broken down by the stroke of his chastisement, and the weight of the rod was heavier than his groaning. Though we did not witness those exclamations of rapture which accompany the smiles of GoD on some of his believing children when in the fiery trial; yet we saw the power of Divine grace manifested in the patience with which he endured his mighty pangs. He was confined to his room six months, in which time he had few, very few, intervals free from pain: but when these occurred, he enjoyed an holy and unshaken confidence in God that all things would work together for his good, and had not the least doubt regarding his spiritual safety. On one occasion, when a friend visited him, he took him by the hand and exclaimed, "Eternity is in view! Eternity is in view!" The friend replied, "I hope, my dear Prestage, you feel a preparation for it:" to which he answered, "I believe I do. I have no joy, but a conscious feeling that I am in the hands of a good and gracious BEING who loves me: and I trust all will be well. My sufferings are sometimes so great that I know not what to do; but hitherto the LORD hath been my helper." At another time he observed to the same friend, that he had been severely tempted to charge GoD with having dealt hardly with him; but by the power of the HOLY SPIRIT he was saved therefrom, and when his moments of agony were over, he rejoiced in GoD for having preserved him from such infidelity. This was the general tone of his experience during his heavy affliction. Those who did not see him at this period are ill qualified to judge of the depressing influence which his protracted sufferings produced upon his nerves. This unhappy effect he felt growing upon him in the early stage of his disorder, as he writes thus in his journal before he left Exeter:My disorder appears to have a very unfavourable influence upon

my whole system, casting a gloom and languor over my moral feelings, as well as my animal spirits." This increased as he grew weaker, and together with his constant pains, bowed down his mind to the dust. Though the ways of Providence must have appeared"dark and intricate" to him, yet the writer, often as he visited him, found him in a spirit of patient resignation to the Divine will. His moments of bodily agony were truly distressing: after these, he was sometimes led to exclaim, with tears in his eyes, "This is hard work,-this is hard work :”—yet did he not cast away his confidence in the Lord; but,

"Amidst accumulated woes,

That premature afflictions bring,
Submission's sacred hymn arose,

Warbled from every mournful string."

During the greater part of this time, he manifested a wish to live, that he might be rendered useful to his fellow-creatures in preaching the everlasting gospel; but within a few days of his death, that desire appeared to have been lost in his acquiescence to the will of GoD. Most of the travelling preachers in London visited him in his affliction, and endeavoured to pour the balm of consolation into his cup of sor row. These tokens of brotherly love frequently brought with them comfortable reflections to his mind; nor were they lightly thought of by his fond parents. The friends who visited him last found him still a great sufferer, and unable to converse with them through excessive weakness. Mr. Sutcliffe called upon him on the evening before his removal to the world of spirits, and being desirous to know the state of his mind, asked him if he had a good hope of a better inheritance. To this he made a reply, but it was scarcely audible. The question was again repeated; whereupon he gathered together his little strength, and very audibly answered, "Yes!" The moment which terminated his sufferings was then near at hand, when he had to bid adicu for ever to the sorrows and pains of this transitory state. His spirit took its flight to the realms of eternal felicity the next day, Saturday, May 15, 1819, between six and seven o'clock in the evening. The following incident attended his closing scene of this mortal life. To be relieved a little from his wearisome posture, he attempted to lift up his feeble knees in bed, but through weakness could not; when his mother assisted him, and immediately one knee fell down, and soon afterwards the other. She turned around to hand a pillow for his support, and said to him, "My dear, I will reach a pillow for you;" to which he gently replied, "No-N-o." Whereupon, she came to him, but found that the spirit had fled

"Swift as the glancing sun-beam cats the air,
Above the clouds and changes of this world."

Mr. Prestage had just completed the 23d year of his age. The disorder with which he was afflicted was supposed to be a fungus in the bladder. In his death, his parents have lost an amiable and affectionate son,-his friends an interesting and faithful companion, and the Church of CHRIST a minister who bade fair to be one of its burning and shining lights.

The following character of Mr. Prestage is given in a letter, not originally designed to meet the publick eye, which the writer received from Mr. Marsh of Launceston. Mr. Marsh is well qualified to judge of the extent of Mr. Prestage's usefulness, having been his colleague and superintendant at Exeter, and having since travelled in the Launceston circuit, to which Mr. Prestage was first appointed. Amongst other things, Mr. Marsh says, "Mr. Prestage's views on most or all the subjects, which he had, as a preacher, to introduce, met with general acceptance. His style and mode of delivery were both impressive; and obtained for him a degree of popularity which is the lot of very few of his ministerial standing. His preaching was attended with more than common success both in Launceston and Exeter. Taking all his difficulties into the account, he begun with as much promise of future greatness and usefulness as any man I have ever known."-But, he is gone! However, let us not mourn as those without hope. Let us follow him as he followed CHRIST; remembering that

Our loss is his infinite gain.'

Though he had to suffer here with his LORD, he is now reigning with him in his kingdom of glory, where all tears are wiped away for ever from his eyes, and sorrow and suffering are no more,-where he is praising God for that auspicious day in which he embarked in the gospel ministry, and exclaiming,-"Is this the end of all my labours, my toils and watchings, my expostulation with sinners, and my efforts to console the faithful! and is this the issue of that ministry under which J was often ready to sink! and this the glory of which I heard so much, understood so little, and announced to my hearers with lisping accents and a stammering tongue! well might it be styled the glory to be revealed.'-May the impressions produced by this event never be effaced; and above all, may it have the effect of engaging such as are embarked in the Christian ministry, to work while it is called to-day."*

It was the particular wish of Mr. Prestage that he should be interred in the Southwark-Chapel burial-ground. His remains were accordingly deposited there on Friday, May the 28th, 1819. His funeral was attended by most of the travelling-preachers in the London East circuit, many of the local preachers, and other

* Rev. Robert Hall.

friends. Mr. Bunting read the burial-service, and Mr. Riles delivered an appropriate address, in the chapel, to a considerable assembly gathered together on the occasion.

A funeral sermon for Mr. Prestage was preached at SouthwarkChapel on Sunday evening, June the 6th, 1819, by Mr. Sutcliffe, from 1 Cor. xv. 55, to a large congregation that seemed deeply affected. Another sermon was preached by Mr. Marsh at Exeter, from Rev. xiv. 13. "The chapel was unusually crowded, and the degree of awe which generally prevailed, promised well for the people." Other sermons were preached in the Launceston circuit, where GoD had peculiarly blessed the labours of Mr. Prestage.

His friends, among whom are many of the local preachers in the London-East circuit, have, in respect to his memory, contributed to raise a stone over his grave, with the following epitaph.

SIR,

In the Launceston and Exeter Circuits.
His Ministry was made a blessing to many;
And his talents as a Preacher secured to him
A considerable degree of popularity:
Nor was he less distinguished
By the urbanity of his manners,
And the ardour of his piety.

He bade fair for a long and useful life;
But was suddenly removed,
To the great grief of his friends,
And the Church of CHRIST.

"Cold is that heart in which were met
More virtues than could ever die;
The morning-star of hope is set-
The sun adorns another sky."

DIVINITY.

To the Editor of the Methodist Magazine.

If you judge the following Sermon, on the Censure of the Lukewarm, worthy of a place in your Miscellany, it