New York, Friday, May 1.—Our general conference (says Bishop Asbury) began. During the session I saw nothing like unkindness but once, and there were many and weighty affairs discussed. I hope very few rules will be made. may disquiet ourselves in vain.

We

Sabbath 11.-At the African church in the morning: I preached also at the Hudson chapel; it was an awful time. A subject before the conference was the question, If local deacons after four years of probation, should be elected to the eldership by two thirds of the conference, having no slaves, and having them to manumit them where the laws allowed it? it passed by a majority. On Saturday a motion was made to strengthen the episcopacy by adding another bishop.

Sabbath 17.-I preached at Brooklyn in our elegant house. After a serious struggle of two days in general conference to change the mode of appointing presiding elders, it remains as it was. Means had been used to keep back every presiding elder who was known to be favorable to appointments by the bishops; and long and earnest speeches have been made to influence the minds of the members: Lee, Shinn, and Snethen were of a side; and these are great men. Many matters of small moment passed under review, and were regulated. Mr. Shaw of London called to see me, and I had seventeen of the preachers to dine with me; there was vinegar, mustard, and a still greater portion of oil: but the disappointed parties sat down in peace, and we enjoyed our sober meal. We should thank God that we are not at war with each other, as are the Episcopalians, with the pen and the press as their weapons of warfare.

Sabbath 17.-At the Two Mile Stone my subject was 1 Peter iv, 6-9. I preached also at Greenwich, and at Johnstreet chapel. On Monday I took an emetic, but I found I could not be sick in quiet, so unceasingly was I pursued by visiters and letters; so I made my escape to George Suck

ley's and took to my bed. On Tuesday I breakfasted with Colonel Few. Some good widows collected above two hundred dollars for the poor preachers in the New-England states sister Seney I must make honorable mention of as being very active in this labor of love. We made a peaceable ride of twenty four miles to mother Sherwood's. I have been kept from sinning, in much patience and affliction.

Numbers in society, 196,357. Traveling preachers, 688. Increase this year, 1812, 10,790.

A short account of the death of Bishop Asbury.

The following sketch of the closing scene of his life, is taken chiefly from the minutes of the conferences for the year 1816; the only document now in our possession from which authentic information, in reference to this subject, can be derived.

It seems that, notwithstanding his extreme debility, which could not be witnessed without awakening the liveliest sensibilities, he flattered himself with the prospect of meeting the ensuing general conference, which was to assemble in Baltimore on the 2nd of May, 1816. In this expectation he was, however, disappointed; the disease with which he was afflicted terminating in the consumption, made such rapid progress as to baffle the power of medicine, and to prostrate the remaining strength of a constitution already trembling under the repeated strokes of disease, and worn down by fatigue and labor. He appeared, indeed, more like a walking skeleton, than like a living man.

His great mind, however, seemed to rise superior to his bodily weakness, and to bid defiance to the hasty approaches of dissolution. Hence, impelled on by that unquenchable thirst to do good, by which he had been actuated for more than fifty years, he continued with his faithful traveling companion, John W. Bond, in a close carriage, to journey

from place to place, as his exhausting strength would permit, frequently preaching, until he came to Richmond, Virginia, where he preached his last sermon, March 24, 1816, in the old Methodist church. Previous to his entering upon this last pulpit exercise, perceiving his great weakness of body, some of his friends endeavored to dissuade him from preaching; but he resisted their dissuasions by saying, That he must once more deliver his public testimony in that place : yielding their own tenderness for his temporal welfare, to his desire to proclaim once more the counsel of his God, they carried him from his carriage in which he rode,-for he was unable either to walk or stand,-to the pulpit, and seated him on a table prepared for that purpose.

Though he had to make frequent pauses in the course of his sermon for the purpose of recovering breath, yet he spoke nearly an hour with much feeling from Rom. ix, 28. "For he will finish the work, and cut it short in righteousness: because a short work will the Lord make upon the earth." This closed his public labors on the earth. The audience were much affected. Indeed how could it be otherwise? To behold a venerable old man, under the dignified character of an ecclesiastical patriarch, whose silver locks indicated that time had already numbered his years, and whose pallid countenance and trembling limbs presaged that his earthly race was nearly finished: to see in the midst of these melancholy signals of decaying nature, a soul beaming with immortality, and a heart kindled with divine fire from the altar of God:-to see such a man, and to hear him address them in the Name of the Lord of hosts, on the grand concerns of time and eternity! what heart so insensible as to withstand the impressions such an interesting spectacle was calculated to produce?

After having delivered his testimony, he was carried from the pulpit to his carriage, and he rode to his lodgings.

On Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday, he journeyed, and finally came to the house of his old friend, Mr. George Ar

nold, in Spottsylvania. In was his intention to have reached Fredericksburgh, about twenty miles farther, but the weather being unfavorable, and his strength continuing to fail, he was compelled to relinquish his design, and accordingly he remained under the hospitable roof of his friend, Mr. Arnold. Hearing brother Bond conversing with the family respecting an appointment for meeting, he observed that they need not be in haste. A remark so unusual with him gave brother Bond much uneasiness. As the evening came on his indisposition greatly increased, and gave evident intimations that his dissolution could not be far distant. About three o'clock next morning he observed that he had passed a night of great bodily affliction.

Perceiving his deep distress of body, and anxious to retain him as long as possible on the shores of mortality, his friends urged the propriety of sending for a physician; but he gave them to understand it would be useless, saying, That, before the physician could reach him his breath would be gone, and the doctor could only pronounce him dead! Being asked if he had any thing to communicate, he replied, That, as he had fully expressed his mind in relation to the church in his addresses to the bishop and to the general conference, he had nothing more to add.

About eleven o'clock on Sabbath morning, he inquired if it was not time for meeting; but recollecting himself, he requested the family to be called together. This being done agreeably to his request, brother Bond sung, prayed, and expounded the twenty first chapter of the Apocalypse. During these religious exercises he appeared calm and much engaged in devotion. After this, such was his weakness, he was unable to swallow a little barley water which was offered to him, and his speech began to fail. Observing the distress of brother Bond, he raised his dying hand, at the same time looking joyfully at him. On being asked by brother Bond if he felt the Lord Jesus to be precious, exerting all his remaining strength, he, in token of complete victory,

raised both his hands. A few minutes after, as he sat on his chair with his head reclined upon the hand of brother Bond, without a struggle, and with great composure, he breathed his last on Sabbath the 21st day of March, in the year of our Lord 1816, and in the seventy first year of his age; ;-after having devoted to the work of the ministry about fifty five years, forty five of which were spent in visiting the cities, villages, and wildernesses of North America; during thirty of these he had filled the highly responsible office, and conscientiously discharged the arduous duties, of general superintendent of the Methodist Episcopal Church.

His immortal spirit having taken its flight to the regions of the blessed, his body was committed to the earth, being deposited in the family burying-ground of Mr. Arnold, in whose house he died. His remains were, by order of the general conference, and at the request of the society of Baltimore, taken up and brought to that city, and deposited in a vault prepared for that purpose, under the recess of the pulpit of the Methodist Church in Eutaw-street. A vast concourse of the citizens of Baltimore, with several clergymen of other denominations, followed the corpse as it was carried from the general conference room in Light-street to the place prepared for its reception in Eutaw street; being preceded by Bishop M'Kendree as the officiating minister, and brother Black, a representative from the British to the American conference, and followed by the members of the general conference as chief mourners. The corpse was placed in Eutaw church, and a funeral oration pronounced by the Rev. William M'Kendree, the only surviving bishop; after which, the body of this great man of God was deposited in the vault, to remain until the resurrection of the just and unjust.

It is needlesss to make reflections here, or to pass encomiums upon his character, not only because it would be anticipating his biography which is now preparing for the press,