rience of the goodness of God to him in his sickness, and said, "If I had a thousand lives to live I would live them all for Christ; I have cast anchor on him, and rely on his blood, and am going to venture my all upon him." He then took his leave of each in a very solemn manner, and said, "Watch your hearts, and keep them with all diligence, for out of them is the issue of life."

Calling for his wife and children, he took his leave of them with the utmost composure and serenity of mind, and submission to his Father's will. Observing them and all his other friends weeping, he said to his wife, "My dear and precious wife, why do you weep? you should rejoice. Rely on the promises. God will never leave nor forsake you; all his promises are true and sure. Well, I am going from weeping friends to congratulating angels and rejoicing saints in heaven and glory. Blessed be God, all is well!"

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He asked, "How much longer will it be before I gain my dismission?" It was answered, "Not long." Well," he observed, "Here is nothing on earth I desire; here I am waiting! What a mercy to be in Jesus!" He then threw abroad his arms, and said, "He is coming! he is coming! But surely this cannot be death; O how astonishingly is the Lord softening my passage; surely God is too good, too good to such a worm! speed thy chariot wheels! Why art thou so long in coming? I long to be gone." At length he exclaimed, as if beginning a sentence, "Faith and hope:" these were his last words. About eleven o'clock in the morning he lay down; and just before twelve, fell asleep in Jesus, whom he so much loved.

According to his request, a post-mortem examination was had, to ascertain the disorder of which he died. Five stones were found in the left kidney, which had been so inflamed that putrefaction had nearly consumed that organ. The parts contiguous having partaken of

the inflammation, betrayed the agony which he must have endured.

The funeral of Mr. Darracott was attended by an immense multitude, and the death of the holy man regarded as a public calamity. And for many years his memory was cherished with the most lively gratitude by multitudes who had been blessed by his ministry. It is said that, forty years later, the remains of his devoted widow, at her own request, were deposited with those of her husband. When the tomb was opened, there was present a person who had been deeply affected under the ministry of Mr. Darracott, but had turned aside to the world, and had for many years neglected the duties of religion. The sight of the bones of her former pastor recalled so forcibly the views and feelings, which his animating voice and fervent zeal had first produced, that she burst forth in expressions of alarm and anguish. Thus the righteous man "being dead, yet speaketh;" from his tomb goes forth a voice at once alarming to the wicked, and grateful to the believer in Christ.

2. EDWARD PAYSON, D. D.

"Through nature's wreck, through vanquish'd agonies,
Like stars struggling through this midnight gloom,

What gleams of joy! what more than human peace!"—YOUNG.

EDWARD PAYSON was born at Rindge, New-Hampshire, July 25, 1783. At the age of twenty he was graduated at Harvard University, and the three follow. ing years had charge of an academy in Portland, Maine. When about twenty-one years of age, religion became his all-engrossing concern, and never afterwards could he be diverted from the all-absorbing interest of his soul. Henceforward he was accustomed to say, "The vows of God are upon me;" and unceasing were his

efforts to keep the vows which his lips had uttered. In 1807 he was settled as pastor of the Church in l'ortland; and here he continued with unceasing fidelity, and with eminent success, to exercise his ministry for twenty years, till called from his toils and sufferings to his eternal reward.

During his whole life he had been more or less subject to disease and bodily infirmity. Long did he sustain himself by the grace of God against the encroachments of disease. But in the spring of 1827 he began to fail, and it was evident that his work was well nigh done. His left side, and also his right arm, became incapable of motion, and lost all sensibility of feeling; while, in the interior of the affected limbs, he experienced a burning sensation, which he compared to a stream of fused metal or liquid fire coursing through his bones. He was also subject to the most violent attacks of nervous head-ache. But even when convinced that the hour of his departure was at hand, he could not consent to cease from preaching. His public ministrations during this period, when his body was sinking toward the grave, were not only adapted to his peculiar circumstances, but were surpassingly eloquent and instructive.

An eye-witness thus describes one of his last communion seasons:-"It was an affecting, a soul-cheering scene. Its interest was greatly enhanced by the nearness in which he seemed to stand to the communion of the Church triumphant. His body was so emaciated with long and acute suffering that it was scarcely able to sustain the effort once more imposed upon it; but his soul, raised above its perishing influence, and filled with a joyful tranquillity, seemed entirely regardless of the weakness of its mortal tenement. His right hand and arm were so palsied by disease as to be quite useless; except that in the act of breaking bread, when he

could not well dispense with it, he placed it on the table with the other hand-just as you raise any lifeless weight-until it had performed the service required of it. I have never known Dr. Payson when he seemed more abstracted from earth than on this occasion. It was, as he supposed, and as his Church feared, their final interview at that table. In all the glowing fervour of devotion, assisted by his ever-fertile imagination, he contemplated the Saviour as visibly present in the midst of them. There was a breathless silence; and the solemnity of the scene could hardly have been surpassed, if, as he expressed it, the Lord Jesus Christ were seen sitting before them, addressing to each individual member the momentous inquiry, 'Lovest thou me?" "

On the 1st of July, after a sermon from his assistant, he rose, and thus addressed his people:-"Ever since I became a minister it has been my earnest wish that I might die of some disease which would allow me to preach a farewell sermon to my people; but as it is not probable that I shall ever be able to do this, I will attempt to say a few words now;-it may be the last time I shall ever address you. This is not merely a presentiment. It is an opinion founded on facts, and maintained by physicians acquainted with my case, that I shall never see another spring. And now, standing on the borders of the eternal world, I look back on my past ministry, and on the manner in which I have performed its duties; and O, my hearers, if you have not performed your duties better than I have mine, woe! woe! be to you, unless you have an Advocate and Intercessor in heaven! We have lived together twenty years, and have spent more than a thousand Sabbaths together, and I have given you at least two thousand warnings. I am now going to render an account how they were given; and you, my hearers, will soon have

to render an account how you have received. One more warning I will give you. Once more your shepherd, who will be yours no longer, entreats you to flee from the wrath to come. O, let me have the happiness of seeing my dear people attending to their eternal interests, that I may not have reason to say, 'I have laboured in vain-I have spent my strength for naught!'

His public labours were now nearly over; and on the 5th of August he entered the church for the last time. It was communion Sabbath; and his last public acts were the admission of twenty-one persons to the fellowship of the Church, and dispensing the holy sacrament to his flock. It was with great effort, although supported by his deacons, that he entered the house; and the performance of the service entirely overcame him. At its close, his people crowded around him to take his hand, for the last time, and bid him the last farewell. Twenty years before he had entered that church for the first time as a preacher-then, a trembling youth; now, the spiritual father of many hundreds: then, just girded for the warfare; now, the veteran who had "fought the good fight," and was just going to resign his commission and receive a crown of unfading glory.

Thus closed the public career of Edward Payson: let us now follow him after he has retired, as it were, from the public view, and is journeying down into the vale of death. When asked if he could see any particular reason for this dispensation: "No," he replied; "but I am as well satisfied as if I could see ten thousand. God's will is the very perfection of all reason."

One inquired, "Are you better than you were?"

He replied, "Not in body, but in mind. If my happiness continues to increase, I cannot support it much longer. God deals strangely with his creatures to promote their happiness. Who would have thought that I must be