and suggest the propriety of his completing whatever arrangement remained to be made of his worldly concerns. We were the more decided to do this, as he had expressly wished us to deal faithfully with him, and tell him, without flattering his desires, whatever we thought of him. He received the communication with great composure-expressed a hope in Christ-said his views were not so clear as he could wish, but intimated that he was not afraid. So far as he was acquainted with himself, he thought he could safely say, that his great, commanding object of life, for the last seventeen years, had been the glory of Christ, and the good of the Church. Mr. Goodell asked if he had any particular word of comfort, or of exhortation for his family friends, his brothers, sisters, father.-At this last word, he was sensibly moved; 'Oh, brother Goodell,' said he, raising his hand to his eyes, 'my father, my father, my father (he paused.) But he'll bear it. He knows what such afflictions are. When he hears the news, the tears will roll down his furrowed cheeks, but he'll not complain-he knows where to look for comfort.' Here he stopped; saying he hoped to renew the subject, when he should have had a little space to collect himself. After we had read, at his request, the fifty-first Psalm, and both prayed by his side, he himself added a short prayer, in which he confessed his sins, and resigned his soul and body into the hands of God.

"Hoping that he might yet continue a day or two, we despatched a messenger to Sidon, to a physician with whom Mr. Fisk had some acquaintance, and in whose skill he expressed some confidence.

"During the course of the day, he conversed, much, and with the full command of his reason. 'It is now,' said he, 'about seventeen years that I have professed to be a servant of Christ. But O how have I served him-with how many haltings and stumblings and sins. Were it not for the infinite

merits of Christ, I should have no hope-not one among a thousand of my words has been rightnot one among a thousand of my thoughts has been right.' We asked, if he could not give us some directions how to live and labor in the mission. 'Yes,' said he, "tis done in a few words; live near to God, dwell in love, and wear out in the service of Christ.' He had no particular plan to recommend for the conduct of the mission,-but with regard to the station at Jerusalem, should be sorry to have it given up, though he did not see how it could be well avoided, until we should be reinforced by other missionaries. He dictated letters to his father, and his missionary brethren, King and Temple-wished he had a catalogue of his books at Jerusalem, that he might select a suitable one for his father, but could not think of any.

"At times he lay in a state of stupor, and seemed near death. In such a state he was, when the hour of our usual Thursday prayer-meeting arrived. We proposed to observe the season by his bedside, supposing him to be too insensible to be either gratified or disturbed by it. On asking him, however, if we should once more pray with him, to our surprise he answered, 'Yes-but first I wish you to read me some portions of Mrs. Graham's 'Provision for passing over Jordan.' We read, and he made suitable remarks. Where it is said "To be where thou art, to see thee as thou art, to be made like thee, the last sinful motion forever past,'-he anticipated the conclusion, and said, with an expressive emphasis, "That's heaven.' We then each of us prayed with him, and he subjoined his hearty 'Amen.' We had asked, what we should pray for, as it concerned his case. 'Pray,' said he, "that, if it be the Lord's will, I may get well, to pray with you, and labor with you a little longer; if not, that I may die in possession of my reason, and not dishonor God by my dying behavior.' He afterwards begged to hear the

hymn, which he had formerly sung at the grave of Mr. Parsons.*

"As the evening approached, and before the appearance of the fever fit, he was very calm and quiet. In the midst of the stillness that reigned within him, and around him, he spoke out saying, "I know not what this is, but it seems to me like the silence that precedes a dissolution of nature.'-His fever began to creep upon him. We saw again the spasmodic affection of his muscles. 'What the Lord intends to do with me,' said he, 'I cannot tell, but my impression is, that this is my last night.' We hoped not. 'Perhaps not,' said he, but these are my impressions.'

"The devotions of the evening were attended in his room. He united in them with evident enjoyment. Afterwards he begged one of the sisters to go and try to get some rest, bade her good night, intimated it might be their final parting, commended her 'to Him that was able to keep her.' Similar ex

pressions of concern for us, and of gratitude to God, frequently fell from his lips; such as, "The Lord bless you for all your kindness.'-'I shall wear you all out.'

-Were it not for these kind friends, I should already have been in my grave.'-'How different is this from poor B. (an English traveller who lately died,) how different from Martyn, how different from brother Parsons in Syra.'

"The fever fit proved much milder than the night preceding scarcely any appearance of delirium. He repeatedly said, 'The Lord is more merciful to me than I expected.' 'Perhaps there may be some hope of my recovery-the Lord's name be praised.' He often checked himself for sighing, and speaking

* "Brother, thou art gone before us,
And thy saintly soul has flown

Where tears are wiped from every eye,

And sorrow is unknown," &c. &c:-See p. 231.

of his pains, saying, 'I know it is weak, and foolish, and wicked.' Once, after a draught of water, he said, 'Thanks be to God for so much mercy, and let his name be trusted in for that which is future.' On two or three occasions, he exclaimed, 'God is good -his mercy endureth forever.'

"At midnight he asked the time-hoped it had been later-and, at three A. M. (Friday 21,) his fever gave way to a little quiet sleep. During the whole forenoon, he remained so quiet, that we hoped his disease might be breaking away. In the afternoon, however, it was discovered returning with all its alarming symptoms. He was asked, if he had been able during the day to fix his thoughts on Christ. 'Not so much as I could wish-I am extremely weak.' But when you have been able to do so, has the Saviour appeared precious to you? 'O yes, O yes, O yes. One of the sisters,' continued he, 'has been reading to me some precious hymns respecting Christ and his glory;' then fixing his eye steadfastly towards heaven, he repeated the words, 'Christ and his glory.'

"At six o'clock he had rapidly altered, and the hand of death seemed really upon him. We repaired to the throne of grace, commending his soul to him that gave it. He had inquired anxiously if the doctor had not come. He came at eight, but Mr. Fisk was insensible. He approached the bed side. 'Here is the doctor,' said we. He raised his eyes, fastened them a moment on the stranger, and sunk immediately into his former stupor. The physician, on learning what had been his symptoms, expressed little hope of saving him; but not to abandon him entirely, he ordered new mustard poultices to his feet, and warm wet cloths to his stomach, with frequent draughts of rice-water. One hour after, to our no small joy and encouragement came on a free perspiration, the paroxysm of fever was arrested,

respiration more free, and the remainder of the night comparatively quiet. "Saturday 22. He was able to return the morning salutation to those that came in. When the physician entered the room, he immediately recognised him, and conversed a little with him in Italian -passed the day quietly—said almost nothing— tongue palsied.

"The sun had set, and no appearance of his usual paroxysm. His strength was such, that he could still raise himself on his elbow, and nearly leave his bed, without assistance. Our hope had not for many days been higher, that he might yet survive. The fever came on, however, at eight or nine o'clock, but so gently that the physician repeatedly assured us he apprehended no danger from it. We therefore retired to rest, leaving him, for the first half of the night, in the hands of the physician and a single attendant. Scarcely had we closed our eyes in sleep, when we were awaked to be told, that all hope concerning him was fled. We hastened to his bed side, found him panting for breath, and evidently sinking into the arms of death. The physician immediately left him and retired to rest. We sat down, conversed, prayed, wept, and watched the progress of his dissolution; until, at precisely three o'clock on the Lord's day morning, October 23, the tired wheels of nature ceased to move, and the soul, which had been so long waiting for deliverance, was quietly released.

"It rose, like its great Deliverer, very early on the first day of the week, triumphant over death, and entered, as we believe, on that Sabbath, that eternal rest, which remaineth for the people of God. "We sung part of a hymn,* and fell down to give

"How blest is our brother-beroft
Of all that could burden his mind!
How easy his soul-that has left
This wearisome body behind!" &c.