were

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He then went among his people, and called on some sick persons; and it may be noted that the last words he uttered, on leaving the house of one of his friends, "In the midst of life we are in death." After dinner he took up the newspaper and read aloud to his family, making some remarks as he went along, on the subject under review. He then went out again for about an hour, and in his walk he joined Mr. Westoby. Of this last interview his friend saysFor twenty years we had enjoyed social intercourse; and had often found it difficult to bring conversation, readily commenced, to a close. We frequently returned with each other over Olney bridge two or three times before we finally parted. His last affectionate farewell to myself and my niece on the evening previous to his departure, was of the same complexion as those at parting many times before. The courteous and kindly grace of his manner was without variation. Our conversation generally turned on subjects connected with our calling as ministers; and our last conversation was of a similar character.

It was strictly professional and peculiarly christian; and I trust was not displeasing to the Saviour, the defence of whose divinity and mediation it was intended to maintain. In answer to some inquiries respecting the state of mind of one of my sick parishioners, I mentioned the arguments I had addressed to him in proof of the truth of christianity. The countenance of my friend beamed with delight; and he enjoyed the triumph of truth over error and scepticism. When we came to the extremity of the

bridge, he shook hands with us, and slowly retraced his steps homeward. And I saw him no more.”

From the bridge he turned into the churchyard, where he was observed by one of his children to pause for some minutes as in pensive thought, by the family vault; in which the remains of one of his departed children rest in hope, whose glorified spirit he was so speedily to join. After tea, one of his daughters accompanied him into the study to write for him, where he was engaged till nine o'clock. He then came down to prayers, and the younger members of the family withdrew. He sat for a short time afterwards quietly musing; and pleasant is the silence of love and friendship, or the rest of calm expectation. Just mentioning to his companion, that he had felt the pain return in the course of the evening, with a tender last " good night," he again went into his study, where he was occupied probably till midnight. This was not unusual with him. He frequently did much in the undisturbed hours he appropriated to sermonizing after his family had all retired to rest. Late on this evening his son went to the vicarage to make some inquiries; but upon discovering light in the study, he returned without seeing his father. The sermon which occupied his latest thoughts, and which he finished before quitting his work, was on a subject affectingly appropriate to his own situation on the borders of the eternal world :-" Now is Christ risen from the dead." (1 Cor. xv. 20). The concluding passages, the last that fell from his pen, are as follows:

"Once more and finally, the resurrection of Jesus affords believers the most abundant cause for consolation against the hour of death.

"If beloved brethren, you are risen with Christ, you have no reason to dread the approach of death. Your final and bodily resurrection cannot indeed take place till you have passed through the grave. It is appointed unto you once to die. But your Redeemer has taken away the sting of death. Is death dreaded by you because it is the wages of sin? But Christ has procured the forgiveness of sins by his death, and has declared the justification of every believer by rising from the dead. Are you afraid of the pains of death? But Christ has gone before, and smoothed and sanctified the way; and he has promised to accompany you, when you are called to pass through it. You may therefore say with the Psalmist, 'Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil : for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.' Fear not thou, Christian, you need not dread to meet death-you need not be afraid of its consequences. To die, will be to you everlasting gain. You are united to Christ by his Spirit; immediately after death your soul will be still more closely united to him, though your body will be consigned to the tomb; and when the glorious morning of the resurrection shall arrive, then the perfect union shall take place, when by his mighty power he shall raise you from your bed of dust, and make you like himself. 'It doth not yet appear what we shall be, but we know that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. The body is sown in corruption; but it will be raised in incorruption: it is sown in dishonour; it is raised in glory: it is sown a natural body; is raised a spiritual body. The resurrection will give you beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. Then God himself shall wipe away all tears from your eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed away: and he that sate upon the throne said, Behold I make all things new. And there shall be no more curse: but the throne of God and the Lamb shall be in it; and his servants shall serve him. And they shall see his face; and his

name shall be in their foreheads. And there shall be no night there, and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light: and they shall reign for ever and ever.'

On the following morning he was later in rising than usual. This had sometimes occurred latterly, on account of disturbed and watchful nights. One of his children went into his chamber between eight and nine o'clock, and he then rose. While dressing he rang for some trifling article: he observed to the attendant that he had passed a comfortable night; and gave directions respecting some soup to be made, in the course of the day, for the poor. She had scarcely left the apartment, when his bell again rang, and in an instant afterwards, his family was with him. He had fallen on the floor. Two of his daughters raised him to a sitting position, and a gentle sigh escaped him, which they imagined might be the effort of recovering nature. Still supporting him, and vainly endeavouring to hush the bitter lamentations of his youngest child, they were unconscious, until the arrival of his son shortly afterwards, that a thousand thunders could not disturb the calm repose of his lifeless form, or disquiet the eternal rest of his freed spirit.

To portray the agony of his bereaved family would be equally unavailing and impertinent. But the shock was universal in the neighbourhood. Some of his friends might have expected such a termination to his life; but not yet is the dictate of nature,

• This was the last sermon that my father himself prepared for publication. The additional, from the nineteenth, had not the benefit of their writer's latest corrections.

affection, and hope; and if the probability of the event might have entered their mind, it found them wholly unprepared for the mournful reality.

My father had, doubtless, himself contemplated it; and many years previously he had transcribed, from a hymn of John Wesley, the lines

"O that, without a lingering groan,

I may the welcome word receive;
My body, with my charge, lay down,

And cease at once to work and live!"

So exactly was this wish accomplished. And it is remarkable that in a short tribute to his memory, soon after circulated in the parish and neighbourhood, lines should occur so similar to the above as the following:

"No lingering in his passage, no delay,

No wearisome anticipated doom;

The summons came; he speeds him on his way,
One easy footstep, and he 's safe at home." *

His remains beautifully expressed the gentle departure of the spirit which had animated them; and his countenance was the sleeping image of its living

The reader may not be displeased to see the whole of this elegant tribute

TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE VICAR OF OLNEY,