was generally successful. His great object, however, was the salvation of souls. For this, I can truly say, that he prayed, and wept, and toiled; preserving, in his own country, the full influence of a Missionary spirit. He lived in the affections of the people among whom he laboured. They saw that his one desire was, that God might be glorified in the conversion of sinners; and acknowledged that he counted not his life dear to himself, that he might finish his course with joy.

For several years he had been subject to a bilious complaint, the attacks of which were very painful, and often rendered a punctual attendance upon his appointments a work of difficulty. But as far as possible it was paid; so that he indeed offered himself as a living sacrifice. He was accustomed to say, that he neither wished for a sudden death, nor a lingering affliction; but that, if he might choose, (which he did not,) he should like a brief interval of two or three weeks between active duty and heaven. His wish was granted; and his work was nearer its close than he anticipated. Some agitations in the Circuit made him more anxious to fulfil every engagement. On Easter Sunday, (March 26th,) 1837, he left home to attend his appointment at Stoke-upon-Trent. Thomas, his eldest child, (seven years of age,) was very unwell, and ceased to breathe before his father's return in the evening. The next day he was at the Quarterly-Meeting, and accepted an invitation to remain a third year. But his work was done. He caught cold on the evening of the same day; and soon became so ill, that it was with difficulty he followed his beloved child to the grave, the grave which was so soon to open for himself. Symptoms of typhus fever soon appeared, utterly prostrating his strength, and producing frequent delirium. During those intervals in which he was collected, he appeared to be aware of his situation, and to be resigning himself patiently to the will of God. "I am in good hands," said he, on one of these occasions: "all shall be right." Even when his mind wandered, it was pleasing to see that things spiritual and divine had the uppermost place in his thoughts. To a person who was sitting by him one night, he said, "Do you see any thing?" and when, replying in the negative, she added, "Do you, Sir?" he instantly replied, "Yes; I see four." On another occasion, appearing to be somewhat low and sad, he was asked whether he was thinking of his lately-departed child. He replied, "No; I grieve that I have not served my God more faithfully." He afterwards seemed engaged in prayer, and was heard several times to exclaim, "His blood! his blood!" His recollection again leaving him, he said very little; but that little was very gratifying to his friends. Once he suddenly exclaimed, "They are come ready-winged. I only want wings myself now." Generally, his friends were prohibited by his Physician from seeing him; but, occasionally, when he appeared somewhat revived, one or two would speak to him. His colleague, calling on him, took

him by the hand: on which he said, very solemnly, and with an affectionate look, "My dear brother, farewell. All is right." He was aware of his situation, and once said, very calmly, in reference to it, "I am going home." His family he commended to God, whose he was, and whom he had served; and in this composed state he remained, gradually sinking, till April 11th, 1837; when, without a struggle, he fell asleep in Christ, in the fortieth year of his age.

One of his friends and correspondents has furnished me with the following observations on his character:-" As a Christian, he was a man of fervent and deep piety, of unaffected humility, and of uniform consistency. He was a very ingenuous and kind friend. As a Minister, he was faithful, zealous, and affectionate." During the brief period in which he was called to suffer, he manifested the greatest resignation and patience; and plainly evidenced, that the truths which he had preached in health fully supported him in sickness, and that he was himself on the Rock on which he had so often exhorted others to build. And as his life was marked by great simplicity and devotedness, so his death was characterized by great peace. His death-bed was made, by the goodness of God, the continuation of the testimony to the truth and blessedness of religion, which he had endeavoured to bear during the years of his active life.

MEMOIR OF MR. ISAAC PAPE:

BY THE REV. JOHN BURDSALL.

ISAAC PAPE, the subject of this memoir, was born in the year 1800, at Wild-grove, near Bradford, Yorkshire. His mother died when he was but eight years old; and being the youngest of the children left, he was sometimes taken by his father into private when he retired for devotional purposes, that he might in an especial manner commend him to God when he wrestled with Him for himself and family. In this respect Mr. Pape's father was an example worthy the imitation of all Christian parents similarly circumstanced. About fifteen months after the decease of his mother, his father died, and he, as an orphan, was confided to the care of an uncle then living at Clifton, near York. By his uncle he was bound apprentice to Mr. John Taylor, of York, cabinet-maker and upholsterer, with whom he continued for the term of his apprenticeship. Mr. Pape had reason to bless God that his lot was cast in this place; for, as Mr. Taylor regularly and daily kept up the worship of God in his family, Isaac was soon led to think of the importance of this practice, and of the advantages he had enjoyed under his father's roof. He now became deeply concerned for the salvation of his soul; which a pious female servant in the house perceived, and invited him to the class in which she met. He went, and found it an occasion of much pleasure and profit. He had met in class but a short time, before he determined to cast in his lot with the

Methodists; and from the period that he did so, he was made so sensible of the exceeding sinfulness of sin, as to be perfectly unable to rest without forgiveness. This blessing he sought with all his soul, and soon was privileged to find it. O that all professing masters were like Mr. Taylor, all professing servants like this pious female, and all meeting in class like our departed friend!

No sooner was Isaac brought to enjoy the light of God's reconciled countenance, than he became anxious that others, and that all, should be made partakers of the same blessing; and under the influence of this feeling, he began to talk to his fellow-apprentice, and with such success, as to induce him soon to join the Methodists, and to give himself to God. That person is now a useful Class-Leader among the Methodists. How highly are those churches favoured that abound with such members as Isaac Pape, whose zeal to do good will not permit them to partake of their morsel alone!

For six years he was an active agent in one of our Sabbath-schools; and for several years had a place among those brethren who, every Lord's day, visit the villages round about, for the purpose of holding meetings for prayer and exhortation. In the close of 1820 Mr. Pape made his first attempt to call sinners to repentance; and, in 1822, was put on the Local Preachers' Plan in the Ripon Circuit, to which he had removed. While in the Ripon Circuit, he and a brother of his set on foot an excellent Sunday-school in Borough-bridge.

In 1826 he returned to York, and, as a matter of course, was put on the Local Preachers' Plan. So humbling were the views which he entertained of his own talents, attainments, and services, that he would much rather have been a hearer of the Gospel than a Preacher of it, if his conscience would have suffered him so to be: but, believing it to be his duty to preach, he nobly took up the cross in obedience to his Lord and Saviour; and often has he been heard to say, that preaching the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ to perishing men, is the most delightful work in which a man can possibly be employed, seeing it yields such satisfaction to a man's mind when he has done his best to save souls from death. And the writer of this memoir must say, that if it be possible properly to estimate a man's qualifications for this work from the report of those who frequently heard him, and from the plans of sermons which he prepared in refer→ ence to his public exercises, the qualifications of Mr. Pape were very respectable. But as the object of this memoir is neither to eulogize the talents of the dead, nor to praise the bare possession of talents, however splendid, but to magnify the grace of God in man, the writer thinks it meet to say, for the honour of God, and in justice to departed worth, that as far as he had the opportunity of knowing Mr. Pape, he had every reason to look on him as a genuine saint, and as a good Preacher of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. While he had bodily strength to keep his appointments on the Plan, he did it in a most

exemplary manner. For when his friends perceived that his strength was failing, and were most urgent that he should desist from his labours, at least for a time, he replied, "I shall never think of that, until I am obliged to it; for there is no work in which I am so comfortable as that of preaching Christ." He therefore persisted to preach until his strength utterly failed him, and then he requested that his name should be removed from the Plan. of neglecting any of his appointments when it keep them.

Never was he guilty was in his power to

It was with great reluctance (owing to the modest estimate he formed of his own talents and experience) that, in 1828, he was prevailed on to take the charge of a class; but when put into that office, he laboured most faithfully to discharge the duties of it, until within three or four months of his death, when he was confined to his own dwelling. The views and feelings which he entertained with regard to this office were remarkably scriptural and correct. would be a great blessing to the Methodist Connexion, if all its ClassLeaders saw and felt as he did.

In the course of the summer of 1837 an abscess formed in his right ankle, which proved exceedingly painful. When it was known what the nature of his complaint was, and that it was likely to prove a tedious affair, he said, "It is the Lord's doing. I will endeavour patiently to submit to it: it is for some wise end, no doubt. But how mysterious are the ways of Providence," added he, "that I should be laid aside at this time," (it being the time of his removal to a new situation,) "when my services seem to be necessary! Well, it is all right: afflictions spring not out of the dust. The Lord's will be done." Hearing the opinion of his medical attendant on his case, he said to his friends, who were anxious to know what that opinion was, Mr. has passed the sentence of death on me. I believe he thinks that I never shall recover." And the announcement of this conclusion appears to have made a deep impression on his mind; for, from that time, he was much given to very serious reflection, and could not endure that any thing light or trifling should be introduced; and he desired that all books but the Bible might be put away.

One evening, when apparently he was wrapt in thought, Mrs. Pape said to him, "My dear, you seem very low: what is the matter?" He replied, "O my dear, what a fool I have been! In how different a light do I see things now from what I ever did before! What is this life compared with eternity? This world is all vanity; it is all delusion; it is a cheat! If the Lord shall see it good to bring me through this affliction, I shall, with his help, lead a very different life. This visitation will be the best thing the Lord could have sent to me. How do I repent that I have spent my life so unprofitably; that I have not been more devoted to God; that I have not laboured to bring more glory to him! O that I had my time to begin again!

With my present views, I should be a very different man! O my Lord, pardon me! pardon these sins of omission! How much might I have done that I have left undone !"

After this, although at times the variableness of his complaint gave some reason to hope for his recovery, yet there were other circumstances connected with it which led him to think that his affliction was unto death. One day, when his medical attendants left his room, he observed to Mrs. Pape, "I think my doctors are very flat to-day. It appears to me that they begin to consider my case as hopeless." She replied, "I am sorry to say, that they give very little hope of your recovery. I think, my dear, that there is no help for you but in the Head Physician." He answered, "I think not. Well, come; all is well. My Jesus hath done all things well.' The Judge of all the earth cannot do wrong. All the days of my appointed time will I wait until my change come. You see, my dear," continued he to Mrs. Pape, “that I am apparently about to be cut down in the midst of my days, being only thirty-seven years of age. But thirty years more will lay all of my age level with me; while a large portion of those now living will have come to the grave long before that time; and that period will soon roll over." A short time after this, being asked by a friend how he was, he replied, "Praise the Lord, I am very near the end. I have cast anchor within the veil. I have seen ships when they have returned from long and dangerous voyages, as they approached port, fold their sails and put safely into harbour; and this sight has afforded me much pleasure."

About a week before his death, he appeared one night to be very much affected; and, giving vent to his feelings, he said to Mrs. Pape, "O my dear Mary, as I am now about to be taken from you, I have, as my dying request, to beg that you will read the word of God, pray much, and attend the house of God, particularly week-night preaching. In thus doing, you will get comfort and relief to your mind; and the Lord will bless and bring you through this troublesome world, so that we shall meet again. And be sure that you do not neglect to give that dear lad" (referring to their son, since dead) "religious instruction; and may the Lord bless and protect him!"

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Not long after this, on being asked by Mrs. Pape if he was comfortable in his mind, he answered, "I have been thinking a great deal about the law." She remarked, "I think you can acquit yourself by the law." He observed, "O, I come far short; and then, after all, there is that sweeping declaration, He that offendeth in one point, is guilty of all."" Mrs. Pape said, "I think the enemy is sifting you;" to which he replied, "I find I have to fight." This conflict with the foe lasted for several hours, and was indeed severe; but he wrestled with his God, and overcame his adversary. Coming out of the conflict, he exclaimed, "No, no; no more, vain world! I