This disorder, supposed to be angina pectoris, became increasingly troublesome, both in respect to the duration and frequency of the paroxysms. The pain was also experienced in both arms, and to the extremities of the fingers, inducing at times a sense of impending suffocation; and to his own mind, it was assuredly the harbinger of a sudden call into eternity. He was observed to be freer from these paroxysms when in the society of friends, or engaged in conversation; and they never occurred in the pulpit. It may be mentioned, that the motion of a carriage appeared to exercise some control over them. He not unfrequently took the morning or afternoon duty of a neighbouring clergyman; and on such occasions, after preaching three times, and travelling a distance of twenty miles, he would remark that Sunday was his best day. It was observed by his son, that the pulse was not subject to any alteration during the time of the attack, or only slightly accelerated. Medicines seemed capable of shortening the paroxysm; but when administered with a view of preventing its return, were of no avail. Narcotics proved of most service, as by their aid he was considerably relieved at night.

My beloved father's course was now nearly run ; and as though conscious that there was but a step between him and death, he, in the expressive language of scripture, "went softly." His spirit and manner were serene and placid; seriousness, humility, gentleness, and love, appeared mingled in holy union. It often happens, that shortly before his departure,

the christian realizes the presence of God in an eminent degree. As if in some mysterious way, the veil between time and eternity became increasingly transparent; he bends a stedfast and earnest gaze on the things unseen and eternal. God in his mercy seems to say, as aforetime to Moses: "Get thee up into the top of Pisgah, and behold the land of Canaan, and die in the mount, and be gathered to thy people." He is usually, in the seclusion of a sick chamber, withdrawn from the engagements of the present life; and there, amid the slow decay of the body of sin and death, the believer has not unfrequently exclaimed, with devout triumph: "We know that if the earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." But the work of the Spirit of God in the soul of the christian, may be perfected while he is still occupied in the duties of his calling; although in the world, he may become daily more detached from it, until in a moment the heavens open, and his purified spirit is received into the kingdom of his Saviour. It has been already stated, that my father's indisposition was not such as to affect his general health; and his various engagements were performed with steady earnestness. His close attention to study, particularly in preparing sermons for the press, is supposed to have accelerated the progress of the disease; but when entreated to spare himself, he replied “I must go on, and I do not find it hurts me." His addresses from the pulpit were characterized by greater solemnity, power,

and fervour; as if urged by a strong necessity to deliver his soul, that he might be pure from the blood of all men. An unction from the Holy One rested upon him, as he continued to testify the gospel of the grace of God, to the last sabbath of his life. His zeal proved no momentary flash; but a steady flame, which, kindled by a live coal from off the altar of the Lord, as it continued to burn, rose higher and shone brighter, to the glory of his name.

There was manifestly a disposition habitually to converse with God. In the garden, the study, the parlour; no spot about the vicarage, but witnessed his ejaculatory supplications, and was consecrated by communion with his Redeemer. When alone, his mind reverted to the great object and chief end of existence, and realized things invisible. Nor did the presence of one or two of his children interrupt the frequent aspirations-"Lord, look down upon me! Jesus! Saviour! have mercy on me!"

His intercourse with his family was more serious and affectionate than ever. When he spoke of his own feelings, which was sometimes the case in more private conversation, it was with the humility of one well acquainted with the corruption of human nature, and long accustomed to examine his heart, and mourn over daily transgression. The idea of merit, arising from the performance of any thing which he had been enabled to accomplish for the glory of God, or the welfare of his fellow men, was abhorrent to his mind. He looked back on the past; but it was to lament his sinful neglect of duty, wasted opportuni

ties of usefulness, and sloth in his Master's work. "I have no hope, but in the free abounding mercy of God in Christ." "I would die with the prayer of the publican upon my lips, God be merciful to me a sinner.'" Such is the language that his intimate friends have heard him frequently use.

6

On the Sunday immediately preceding his death, he preached three times, and with considerable animation. In the morning, at Emberton, he took for his text "Our conversation is in heaven, from whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall change our vile body," &c. Phil. iii. 20, 21. After the service was concluded he took a most affectionate, and as it proved a final, farewell of the family of his friend and fellow-labourer. In the afternoon he addressed his own congregation from the last words of the apostle Peter, "Grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." In the evening he observed, that previously to entering on the consideration of the sacrament of the Lord's supper, preparatory to Easter,* he should preach two sermons on Hell and Heaven; taking the former for his subject that evening, and reserving the other for the next sabbath. He then delivered the substance of a discourse which has been already referred to, from Matthew xxv. 41, 46. "Then shall the king say also unto them on the left hand, depart, &c.; and these shall go away into everlasting punishment." He was accustomed

My father was engaged in preaching a course of the Busby Lectures.

to give out the hymn, after the evening sermon, himself; and it was generally observed, that it was sung with more fervency by the whole congregation than any other during the course of the day. His tones appeared to inspire and communicate a portion of his heavenly spirit into the hearts of the congregation. He said, at the conclusion of his last sermon, "We will not sing on Hell," and gave out the hymn

"When thou, my righteous Judge, shalt come

To fetch thy ransomed people home,

Shall I among them stand?" &c.

On the following day he wrote to his eldest daughter the last letter he penned, in which he says " My health is better than when I wrote last, though I am still subject to frequent pains. I would, however, willingly hope, that the disorder may not be immediately dangerous. God bless and direct you my dear ** I shall not cease to pray for beg that you will not forget to do the same for most affectionate father."

you,

and

your

He continued the even tenor of his way, faithfully occupied in his Master's work to the last moment of his earthly existence; and "blessed is that servant whom his Lord when he cometh shall find so doing.' Wednesday, the day preceding his death, was passed in his usual manner. In the morning he was engaged for an hour or two in the instruction of a youth, whom he regarded with much kindness for the sake of his father (his worthy clerk), and whose studies he had undertaken for a time to superintend.