the most scrupulous and successful pains to conceal the nature of his engagement. When he prayed, he truly "went into his closet, and shut the door, and prayed to his Father who is in secret." So great was his aversion to anything bordering on the display of personal religion, that he never uttered a syllable to indicate what was passing within his own breast.

There was no precise period to which Dr. Gordon was able to refer, as the time when he first became, in the full sense of the term, a Christian. Although, previous to his illness, he had been "a disciple secretly," yet that affliction was undoubtedly instrumental in nourishing and developing the spiritual life, which had till then existed in merely an embryo state. And it was only at the latter period of the disorder that he experienced the extraordinary elevation of mind, and uninterrupted peace and joy, which the following narrative details.

Few have been more favoured than the subject of this memoir, with friends to whom the words of the Apostle James are applicable: "The effectual fervent prayer of the righteous man availeth much." For many years there was not a day in which he was not made the special subject of earnest supplication at the throne of grace, by many, who, from a proper consideration of his well-known feelings, never obtruded on him the question of personal

religion. It was natural, that as they saw him gradually declining under the ravages of disease, their anxiety to ascertain what was the state of his mind on the all-important subject would increase. It was felt that to interrogate him in reference to it would elicit no information, but very probably might seal his lips for the future. He said, on one occasion, to a beloved and anxious relative, "I cannot understand that religion which friends extort from people when they are dying, urging them to say, 'I believe ;' and thinking it sufficient if they can be induced to declare they have faith in Christ." It was evident, from such observations, that it would be injudicious to attempt to elicit anything from him on the subject by direct inquiry. On this account, spontaneous. remarks were the more eagerly watched for, and the more carefully cherished.

It was manifest for many months before his end that he had no fears. Often, when the symptoms became suddenly more alarming, he would say, "Remember, I'm very happy; I've no fear of death."

A few words which escaped from him at Scarborough, in the autumn, were fondly stored in the grateful memory of her to whom they were spoken. He said, "I'm very ill, but not afraid to die." His wife having quoted the verse, “The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the

law: but thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ;" he responded with emphasis, "And he has given me the victory. My views on these subjects have been changed for many years, though I do not talk about it." The account of the brazen serpent being referred to, as illustrative of faith in Christ, he said, "I've had my eye on that brazen serpent a long time." His brother-in-law, Sir William Lowthrop, at whose house he was staying, introduced to his notice the excellent little work published by the Religious Tract Society, entitled, "The Philosophy of Salvation," to large portions of which he listened with great attention, frequently expressing his admiration of the argument.

After his return to Hull, he made the most minute and considerate arrangements with reference to his decease, which he always anticipated as the result of his illness. While talking on these subjects, so unavoidably painful, he would often say, "Do not grieve; I feel so happy. It relieves my mind to talk on what so constantly occupies it." Still he volunteered no further statement respecting the foundation of his hope; and as his friends had always endeavoured, in the most effectual way, to manifest to him their own religious convictions, and their anxiety respecting himself, consideration of his well-known feelings made them abstain from interrogatories which their solicitude might

otherwise have prompted. His marvellous patience in suffering, and composure in the prospect of death, with his blameless life, and the few remarks he had made, encouraged them to hope the best, though they were very desirous of some additional

assurance.

Towards the end of the year he purchased a pair of thick "over-alls," as much for the purpose of concealing his extreme emaciation from his friends, as for additional warmth. A faithful attendant,

entering the room as he was drawing them on, remarked, "They'll think you're going a journey, sir." He replied, "Yes, I am! and a long journey; but it is the happiest journey I ever took. It's a wonder to myself that I have no wish for this world. It's all very delightful, but I have no wish for it." On another occasion, some weeks before he was confined to his bed, he said, "I'm so happy! Indeed, these two last days I've had such delight in the prospect of eternity, that I've had to put it aside. It is almost more than I can bear."

It having been remarked to him one evening that he had been particularly well all day, he said, "Yes, and I dare say you would not think it, but I have been enjoying the thought of my long journey; it has never been out of my thoughts." This was the more remarkable, as he had been exerting himself to see several patients, entering fully into their cases, and receiving visits from various friends,

with whom he had conversed, with his usual animation, on the general topics of the day. It might have been inferred from his manner, that he had quite forgotten his illness, so much did his deportment and conversation resemble those of a man in perfect health, and in a reasonable expectation of a long life.

During the second week in January, the first in which he was confined to his bed, his brotherin-law, the Rev. Edmund Russell, Incumbent of St. Mary's, Pomfret, had several interesting conversations with him, although he found Dr. Gordon still very reserved on the subject of religion. Of these interviews, Mr. Russell says, in a letter to the author, "His words to me were very few, but full of affection, and always betokened a deep and increasing interest in the solemn truths of the Gospel. Speaking of Materialism, he said, 'I have studied the subject deeply; indeed, I have read all the celebrated writings of Deists and Atheists, and I would advise others to do the same.' I remarked, that I durst neither follow nor give such advice. Though, as a minister, I might, if occasion required, take up such works as a matter of duty, yet as a general rule, I thought it neither safe nor wise for any of us to try how much poison our constitution could bear. He replied, Yes, there was a time when I was beguiled by their sophistry. Then, I confess, some serious