the proof that "his right hand had lost its cunning." In this letter he says:: * "My situation is much as it has been-I think not very encouraging. I am in the hands of God, and in a measure reconciled to his will; and it is impossible to determine what will be the issue of the disease. I hope I can say, 'The Lord reigns, blessed be his name.' But you see what poor work I make of writing-should be glad to see you all before I die I commit it all to God. Oh! remember your Creator! Let not the fashions of the world divert your minds from eternity! "2d July, 1833." "Your dying father, 66 LEMUEL HAYNES. This letter being finished, the hand that wrote it laid down the pen for ever. Through a long and active life he had been familiar with "the chamber where the good man meets his fate;" he had often alluded to it in the pulpit. No man could speak more tenderly or eloquently of the dying Christian. He had aided many a weary traveller to close his pilgrimage in peace. Now it was a matter of personal experience. It is to be acknowledged that his sky was not cloudless. He had seasons of desertion and doubt, when dark clouds obscured his prospects of heavenly rest. And yet, in these seasons of the hidings of his Father's countenance, with holy confidence he trusted in the Lord, and stayed himself upon God. If he was at times compelled to express his feelings in the language of the pensive Psalmist, "Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me?" he could also add, "Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance and my God." When the Sun of righteousness shone, his face was cheered with a smile, and he longed to depart and to be with Christ in glory. To the Rev. Mr. Clark, who resided in the vicinity, and often visited him in his last sickness, he said, "I have been examining myself and looking back upon my past life, but I can find nothing in myself and nothing in all my past services to recommend me at the bar of Jehovah. Christ is my all. His blood is my only hope of acceptance. I have been praying for the faith of assurance, and feel that I have almost attained it. My pains are great; but, blessed be God, they are not eternal. I long to be in heaven. Oh! what blessed company will be there! I shall there see not only many great and good men whom I have seen and loved on the earth, but I shall there see Henry, and Scott, and Guise, and Owen! I shall see Abraham, and the prophets, and apostles, in the kingdom of glory! These men I have revered on the earth, and hope to see and converse with them in yonder brighter world." The visits of his ministerial brethren were peculiarly refreshing to him. The Rev. Mr. Whiton, of Salem, his beloved and intimate friend, visiting him, said, "You have a claim upon me. I have left my sick people to come and see you. Shall I stay by you?” "Oh! yes," said Mr. Haynes, "I want your company to all eternity. Do pray for me." "His daughter having in her hand Janeway's "Best Friend in the Worst Times," he requested Mr. Whiton to read the conclusion. "And now my work is done. I must leave you; and whether I shall ever again see you or speak to you, I know not. My body is frail, and I am a poor dying man." After the reading was closed, Mr. Haynes, with great earnestness, said, "Isn't that good? Isn't that good?" 66 'During his last sickness I thought it my duty," says Rev. Mr. Wilson, "to make some effort to minister to his comfort, and to relieve the temporal wants of his family. In the prosecution of my work, I repeatedly made the remark that it was pleasant business; everybody was so ready to give for the relief of Mr. Haynes. On carrying to him the collection we had made, he received it very thankfully, saying, 'I believe the Lord has sent you.' I inquired of him respecting his hope in Christ. He very feelingly replied, 'I know in whom I have believed, and I am not afraid to trust myself in his hands."" "At another time, finding him exercised with considerable pain, I asked him whether he enjoyed the satisfaction of a heart submissive to God. He immediately replied, 'I have been preaching love to God and submission to his will for almost fifty years, and I have no idea of undoing what I have been trying to do almost my whole life."" Some months previous to his last sickness, it was noticed by his family, that in prayer-meetings and family worship he often read the 63d Psalm of Watts. "months of vanity and wearisome nights were appointed unto him," the stanzas of this delightful psalm were his solace in the night-watches. To those who had attended him through the night, he often said in the morning, "What a happy night I have had! What manifestations of God's love to my soul !" Some days previous to his death, a conversation, never to be forgotten, occurred between him and one of his sons. The subject was-eternity! On such a theme, it is easy to conceive that a train of solemn and highly interesting thoughts would pass from such a father to his son. At length the son said to him, "Father, is death a terror to you?" He was not surprised at the question. With a benignant smile, and with that peace that passeth all understanding, he replied, "Samuel, it has been rising of fifty years since I have been preparing for this, and do you think I shall now shrink back? No-no!" He then repeated his favourite lines from Gospel Sonnets. "Dost know the place, the spot of ground," &c. Throughout his sickness, there was manifested a sweet sense of obligation for the kindness and care of his family and friends about him. Respecting a sister in the church, whose repeated calls affected him even to tears, he said, "What an excellent woman! 'I was sick and ye visited me." To her two little daughters, who were often in attendance, manifesting their sympathy and care, he said, "May the Lord bless these kind children! May the Lord bless them with salvation !” To his family, whose tenderness could not be exceeded, he often said, "I fear I am troublesome," and wept under a grateful sense of their kindness. Morning and evening worship, as it had been conducted in his family, was in some sense a foretaste of heavenly joys. The last time he led the family to the throne of grace was within eight days of his decease, and in a sitting posture in his study. He enjoyed his usual enlargement, praying very fervently not only for his wife and children, but for the beloved church under his care, and especially for the impenitent of all classes. He was now rapidly wasting away, and ripening for the world of glory. One morning as he awoke, he said, "Oh, my dear wife, what a night of consolation I have enjoyed! What divine manifestations! Oh, I am well!" He sometimes called his family together, and requested them to sing the hymn entitled Night Thoughts. "How can I sleep while angels sing, A great part of the time he lay apparently in a state of insensibility. Once, after lying some hours in this condition, he noticed in the room his daughter who was not a professor of religion. Beckoning her to his bedside, he took her by the hand, and as he spake to her in whispers, she wept much. She said to him, "Father, pray for me after you get to Heaven." Suddenly a kind of holy indignation seemed to kindle in his features, and he said, "No! no! no!" expressing great displeasure at the unscriptural suggestion. On Thursday, two days before his death, having lain quietly through the day, he requested one of his daughters to come to his bedside, when he thus exclaimed,— "What wonderful views I have had this day! I have been brought to the borders of the grave. Oh! what |