in death, that that is your husband. O no! your husband will have escaped, free and liberated from every clog! He will have new plumed his glad wings, and soared away through the ethereal regions to that celestial city of light and love! What! talk of burying your husband! No, never. Your husband cannot be buried!

he will be in heaven. His body may be; and let it go and mingle with its mother earth: why should you lament? And yet I love this body, notwithstanding it has so often been a hinderance to the aspirations of my mind; for it has been an old companion of mine. It has cost me much care and pain, its tendency being continually to decay; and though it may lie long in the grave it shall be raised, and I shall see it again; for I hope to be united with it, but with none of its infirmities, with none of its moral deformities. Yes, every particle of this dust shall be raised and changed, in the twinkling of an eye, on the morning of the resurrection. Then it will be freed from all its infirmities. It will have no lame limbs, no weak lungs. It will be refined from all its gross particles. It will be buoyant and ethereal, glorious and immortal! It will be perfect, for it will be fashioned like unto Christ's most glorious body, and united with the soul forever!"

At a later period of his illness, on Mrs. Fisk expressing her grief, he said, "I fear you do not give me up. O, give me up to God. Our tie wlll not be sundered; it will only be strengthened by a purer hope. God will be your husband; rely on him in simple faith, and all shall be well."

At another time he said, "Our parting will not be long. Time seems to me like a mere point. Eternity swallows up all." "Imagination's utmost stretch cannot measure eternity. O, my dear, build your hopes on nothing but Jesus, and him crucified! The doctrines of the cross only have efficacy to raise you

O, then

to heaven, where I trust we shall soon meet. shall we be in possession of those beauties which charm the angels, and bind them to the throne of God."

The students desired an interview with their dying president, which was granted. Taking each by the hand, he gave them his dying counsel and bade them farewell. The impression on their minds was very deep. One of them, in a letter to another, who was absent, says, what a scene was that! I may forget the name of my father, and know not the mother who bore me, as soon as will the memory of that day pass from me."

At one time, after a fruitless effort to lie down, he said. "I have always thought I should have a lingering sickness, but an easy death. I would like to have have my bed my dying pillow, but my Saviour died on the cross." He then repeated the stanza, commencing,

and ending,

"How bitter that oup,"

"Did Jesus thus suffer, and shall I repine?"

At another time, when nature seemed exhausted and life was fast ebbing out, as he was lifted from the bed to his chair, he sighed forth, "From the chair to the throne !"

Thus he continued, gradually sinking into unconsciousness, from which it became increasingly difficult to arouse him; nevertheless, when aroused, his mind seemed perfectly clear. On the 20th, when articulation was rapidly failing him, a friend said to him, "You suffer a great deal of distress, sir, from fatigue and exhaustion; but it must be over soon, and how sweet is rest to a weary man! There is a place where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." He responded distinctly, "Bless God for that!" And on the 21st, when he was still further sunk into

coma, the same friend coming into the room, said, “I have come to see you again, sir; do you know me?” Pressing his hand, he said in a whisper, "Yes; glorious hope!" After this, when Mrs. Fisk took his hand and inquired if he knew her, he returned the pressure, saying, "Yes, love; yes." These, we believe, were the last words he uttered. He lingered on our mortal shores until the next day, when, about ten o'clock in the forenoon, his redeemed and now disenthralled spirit took its flight to its kindred skies, to mingle with the Church. of the first-born, and join the anthems of the celestial choir.

20. REV. S. B. BANGS.

"The festal morn, my God, is come,

That calls me to thy hallow'd dome."-ZWINGER.

THIS young and devoted minister was graduated from the University of the city of New-York, in 1843, being then twenty years of age. The following year he was licensed to preach, and at the ensuing session of the New-York Annual Conference he was admitted on trial in the travelling connexion of the Methodist Episcopal Church.

During the second year of his ministry, he was compelled, on account of ill health, to relinquish his charge and return to his father's. His disease proved to be a bronchial consumption. His mother, in a letter to a Christian friend,* gives the following account of the closing scenes of his life:

"After his physicians had given him up, I said to him, 'I fear you will not stay long with us.' His countenance brightened; 'All right,' said he, 'ask father to pray.' After prayer he took each of the family in turn

* Rev. D. Smith, author of Anecdotes of the Christian Ministry.

by the hand, giving each a kiss and his dying charge. Then raising his feeble hands he shouted, Glory, glory, glory to God!' He then sank away as though dead. His father remarked, He has gone, with glory on his lips.' But he revived, and said, 'I am not dead.' Of the scene which followed, my dear brother, I can give you but a very imperfect description. It did seem as though the Lord of hosts came as near as mortals could bear. By this time the room was nearly full of visitors. He exclaimed, 'My sins are all forgiven; I am washed white, made pure in the blood of Jesus.

Not a doubt, not a cloud. All well-more than well. Praise the Lord, I am going home.' He then gave out—

It was sung.

'O thou God of my salvation,

My Redeemer from all sin.'

When they came to the fourth verse,

'Angels now are hovering round us,'

it seemed as though his spirit would fly away. He looked out at the window: The sun,' said he, 'is setting, mine is rising.' Then, with a look of heavenly delight, he gazed upon his hands, where the blood was already ceasing to circulate. 'I go from this bed to a crown,' cried he, with his right arm pointing upwards; 'farewell;' laid his hands upon his breast, gasped, and expired.

“I had thought, if he died I should die with him; but there was nothing like death about it; the room seemed filled with the glory of God. I yet feel those comforting influences the Spirit was pleased to give me, during those last three hours of his life."

21. JOHN FLETCHER.

"Is that his death-bed where the Christian lies?

No! 'tis not his. "Tis death itself there dies."-COLERIDGE.

AMONG those distinguished followers of the Lamb who have shone brightest in the Church below, it is perhaps impossible to fix on one more distinguished for piety than the subject of the following narrative.

He was born in Switzerland, in 1729, and soon displayed a peculiarly pious disposition. But notwithstanding all that was amiable in his character and deportment, he felt the infinite necessity of an inward change.

Conviction made way for unfeigned repentance, and repentance laid a solid foundation for Christian piety. His sorrow for sin was succeeded by a consciousness of the Almighty's favour, and the pangs of remorse gave way to the joys of remission. Believing on Jesus, as the Scripture hath said, he found in him a well of consolation springing up into everlasting life. All his wanderings were, at once, happily terminated, his doubts were removed, his tears were dried up, and he began to rejoice in hope of the glory of God. His conversion was not imaginary, but real. It not only influenced his sentiments, but extended to his conduct.

From this period of his life, he became truly exemplary for Christian piety. He walked cheerfully, as well as valiantly, in the ways of God. He followed Jesus; and became a faithful preacher of the Gospel, at Madeley.

Some time before the beginning of his last sickness, he was deeply impressed with the nearness of eternity. A few days before his dissolution, he appeared to have reached that desirable point, where the last raptu