his society, are still loaned to the solitary, the bereaved family. Dear faithful man! May the rich blessings of Almighty God rest upon thee and thine, until thou hast finished thy mortal career, and mayest thou, in the regions of blessedness, renew, with thy beloved teacher, that friendship which, while tenanted in clay, thou hast so well known to appreciate.
To three other gentlemen, devoted adherents to the lamented deceased, warm acknowledgments are, also, most righteously due. Their kind, and still continued attentions, are gratifying proof of their attachment to him, who was so dear to them, and gratitude hath, with mournful alacrity, reared her altars in the bosoms of the widow, and the fatherless.
Some strange occurrences were noted, which filled the heart of the venerable man of God with sorrow, unutterable sorrow. Every thing seemed to point his passage homeward to the sky, and upon Lord's day morning, August twenty-seventh, one thousand eight hundred and fifteen, at four o'clock, an especial summons was despatched by the Most High, to recal his long-tried servant; but alas! we did not recognize the messenger; we rather believed, that the circumstances, which marked the acknowledged change, would look with a friendly aspect upon the health of the beloved man, during the succeeding autumn and winter; but the honoured sufferer himself, apparently better informed, anticipatingly observed—"Who knows, perhaps the liberating hour is at hand;" and his feelings were always elated or depressed, in exact proportion as the moment of his departure seemed to advance, or recede. The progress of the new disease was astonishingly rapid. A physician was summoned, who permitted the indulgence of hope. On Tuesday, 29th, his complaints evidently abated, insomuch, that while the features of his strongly marked face expressed the deepest mortification, he tremulously exclaimed, "Am I then once more thrown back, the melancholy subject of alternate hope and fear?" On Wednesday, every symptom increased, he obtained little rest, and hope manifestly triumphed in his bosom. Another physician was called in, whose doubtful answers to proposed questions created much alarm. He seemed to consider nature as surrendering her offices. In the course of Thursday, 31st, he repeatedly, and earnestly said, "I cannot be sufficiently thankful to God, my Saviour, that I suffer no pain, either of body, or mind." To a young, and tenderly interested friend, he smilingly observed, "I am hastening through the valley of the shadow of death; I am about to quit this distempered state; yet a little moment,
