"Now we have done all." He was then laid in the bed, from which he rose no more. After resting a little, he called to those who were with him, " to pray and praise." They kneeled down, and the room seemed to be filled with the Divine presence. A little after, he said, "Let me be buried in nothing but what is woollen, and let my corpse be carried in my coffin into the chapel." Then, as if done with all below, he again begged they would pray and praise. Several friends that were in the house being called up, they all kneeled down again to prayer, at which time his fervour of spirit was manifested to every one present. But in particular parts of the prayer, his whole soul seemed to be engaged in a manner which evidently showed how ardently he longed for the full accomplishment of their united desires. And when one of the preachers was praying in a very expressive manner, that if God were about to take away their father to his eternal rest, he would be pleased to continue and increase his blessing upon the doctrine and discipline which he had long made his servant the mean of propagating and establishing in the world; such a degree of fervour accompanied his loud amen, as was every way expressive of his soul's being engaged in the answer of the petitions. On rising from their knees, he took hold of all their hands, and with the utmost placidness saluted them, and said, "Farewell, farewell."

A little after, a person coming in, he strove to speak, but could not. Finding they could not understand him, he paused a little, and then, with all the remaining strength he had, cried out, "The best of all is, God is with us;" and, soon after, lifting up his dying arm in token of victory, and raising his feeble voice with a holy triumph, not to. be expressed, he again repeated the heart-reviving words, "The best of all is, God is with us." Being told that his brother's widow was come, he said, "He giveth his servants rest." He thanked her,

as she pressed his hand, and affectionately endeavoured to kiss her. On wetting his lips, he said, "We thank thee, O Lord, for these and all thy mercies: bless the Church and king; and grant us truth and peace, through Jesus Christ our Lord, forever and ever!" At another time he said, "He causeth his servants to lie down in peace." Then pausing a little, he cried, "The clouds drop fatness!" and soon after, "The Lord is with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge!" He then called those present to prayer; and though he was greatly exhausted, he appeared still more fervent in spirit. These exertions were, however, too much for his feeble frame; and most of the night following, though he often attempted to repeat the Psalm before mentioned, he could only utter,

"I'll praise-I'll praise."

On Wednesday morning, the closing scene drew near. Mr. Bradford, his faithful friend, prayed with him, and the last words he was heard to articulate were, "Farewell!" A few minutes before ten, while several of his friends were kneeling around his bed, without a fingering groan, this man of God, this beloved pastor of thousands, entered into the joy of his Lord.

He was in the eighty-eighth year of his age, and had been sixty five years in the ministry. For fifty-two years, or upwards, he generally delivered two, frequently three or four sermons in a day. But calculating at two sermons a day, and allowing, as a writer of his life has done, fifty annually for extraordinary occasions, the whole number during this period will be forty thousand five hundred and sixty. To these might be added, an infinite number of exhortations to the societies after preaching, and in other occasional meetings at which he assisted. His death was an admirable close of so laborious and useful a life.

At the desire of many of his friends his corpse was placed in the New Chapel, and remained there the day before his interment. His face during that time had a heavenly smile upon it, and a beauty which was admired by all that saw it.

March the 9th, was the day appointed for his interment. The preachers then in London requested that Dr. Whitehead should deliver the funeral discourse; and the executors afterward approved of the appointment. The intention was to carry the corpse into the chapel, and place it in a raised situation before the pulpit during the service. But the crowds which came to see the body while it lay in the coffin, both in the private house, and especially in the chapel the day before his funeral, were so great, that his friends were apprehensive of a tumult, if they should proceed on the plan first intended. It was therefore resolved, the evening before, to bury him between five and six in the morning. Though the time of notice to his friends was short, and the design itself was spoken of with great caution, yet a considerable number of persons attended at that early hour. The late Rev. Mr. Richardson, who now lies with him in the same vault, read the funeral service in a manner that made it peculiarly affecting; when he came to that part of it, "Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God to take unto himself the soul of our dear Brother," &c., he substituted, with the most tender emphasis, the epithet Father, instead of Brother, which had so powerful an effect on the congregation, that from silent tears, they seemed universally to burst out into loud weeping.

Mr. Wesley left no other property behind him than the copyright and current editions of his works, and this he bequeathed to the use of the Connexion after his debts should have been paid.

6. RICHARD WATSON.

"This-only this subdues the fear of death;

And what is this?-Survey the wondrous cure ;

And at each step, let higher wonder rise!

Pardon for infinite offence! 0 0 0 0

*

A pardon bought with blood!--with blood divine!"--YOUNG.

THE Rev. Richard Watson was, during many years, one of the brightest ornaments of the Wesleyan Church. He defended the doctrines of the Gospel by his pen, was an active and laborious minister, and adorned by his life the doctrine of his Lord and Saviour. When his medical attendant had pronounced his case hopeless, Mr. Watson exclaimed, " Good is the word of the Lord! Remember, this is my testimony." From this time, he betrayed no impatience at his sufferings. "I could have wished," he said, "to live a few years longer to finish some works of usefulness; but the Lord can do without any of us. I have no wish either to live or to die; but that the will of God may be done." When one of his family expressed a desire for his restoration, he said, "It is the anxiety of affection, without any basis of reason to rest upon."

"Whilst in health," says the Rev. Dr. Bunting, "he was never remarkably communicative on subjects of personal religion; but now he became as simple and open as a child. He had never been accustomed to give vent to his feelings by tears, always restraining himself in the midst of intense emotion; but he now gave very full vent to the feelings of his heart. Tears of humiliation, intermingled with sacred joy, flowed in copious streams from his eyes. In this state of mind, he often appeared to labour for language adequate to express his deep sense of humiliation. On one occasion, when visited by a venerable and respected brother minister,

who remarked that it must have afforded him pleasure to state and defend the truth, to preach the Gospel to the edification of thousands, and especially to promote the cause of Christian missions, he said, 'I thank God if I have at all helped to promote the doctrine and discipline of the Christian religion; but,' added he, 'place no trust in this.' He then made some remarks on the motives by which he had been guided in some particular points. Towards the evening of that day, he burst into tears, and addressing the persons attending him, said, 'I hope I did not boast to Mr. this morning. I

thought it right to say just what I did, but God forbid that I should boast;' and then he exclaimed, in the greatest agitation, 'O no! I am a poor, vile sinner—a worm, and no man.' In remarking on the goodness of God in his early conversion, he observed, 'How, great was God's mercy in taking me by his grace-in putting me into the ministry at so early a period-in some respects, a most obstinate and refractory sinner!' His favourite expression, when speaking of his unworthiness, was to call himself a worm. One night, moved by a sudden impulse as he lay on his bed, he said, 'I am a worm-a poor, vile worm, not worthy to lift up its head, -but,' he added, with brightened features, 'this worm is permitted to crawl out of the earth into the garden of its Lord, and there to enjoy the flowers and fruits, if it can, which sparkle in the palace and ivory throne of the New Jerusalem

"I shall behold His face,

I shall his love adore,

And sing the wonders of his grace

Forever more."

There is doubt of everything but the great, deep, infinite mercy of God; and that is sure.'

In speaking of the Divine attributes, his mind dwelt almost exclusively on that of mercy. The attention of