freshing beyond expression." Requesting the prayers of the congregation, he said, "I have a desire to recover, but I do 'not wish that to be the burthen of the prayer. Let it be that 'I may acquiesce entirely in the will of God and have com'munion with God. I wish the Colony to be remembered;" and as he spoke these words, he wept. "Excuse my weakness," said he, "there are many good people there, and they ' are so dear, that when I think of seeing them no more, my 'feelings are too strong." From this time, he declined rapidly, but gently; peace was in his soul, and on his aspect some rays of light from the world he was so soon to enter.It was the writer's privilege to watch beside him during the last twenty-four hours of his life. At this season, when the soul looks forth in helplessness from its falling tabernacle which it must quit forever, for an existence untried and the scenes invisible of eternity, the subject of this Memoir was unappalled. It was not forgetfulness, nor self-confidence, nor insensibility which made his spirit calm as the clear waters, that in some hour of nature's deep repose, reflect untremulously the beauty and magnificence of Heaven. He had cast himself upon the greatness of His strength who is mighty to save. Persuaded "that it was a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, and that whosoever believeth in Him, shall not perish, but have everlasting life,” he penitently and joyfully trusted in these Divine words, while he saw the hand of death ready to lift the mysterious curtain, and conduct him to the presence of his final Judge. The softest expressions of human praise, or even of approbation, fell like discords on his ear; and one who alluded to his services in the African cause, was checked by the remark, "I am a dying man, and desire that alone which is suited to my situation--I know of no such thing as self-righteousness---I can rely only upon the righteousness of Christ." Resignation, devotion, humility, and charity, so long the growing habits of his life, shone forth almost in perfection, near its close. In weakness, in pain, he often forgot himself, but duty NEVER. His last day was spent not in complaints --not in anxious efforts to prolong life-not in vain wishes to see once again, if but for an hour, the faces of his parents--to catch, were it but a word, from lips often pressed to his, in affection; but in active duty, as a faithful servant watches with trimmed and burning lamp, the coming of his Lord. He dictated a letter on business, and signed it with his own hand. He expressed, earnestly, his thoughts and desires concerning the Colony. Observing an attendant, moved by his sufferings, in the spirit of Him who, on his way to the cross, said to the sympathizing daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, he exhorted him to consider, and prepare for his own death.Assisted to sit up, that he might thus better endure one of those paroxysms in which life seemed contending unequally with, death, his little African boy standing in tears by his side, he offered his last prayer; that his faith might not fail under the weight of his affliction; that those whose kindness he was experiencing, and that his relatives and friends might never come into condemnation; and that the poor people among whom he had laboured, might ever enjoy the blessing of that Almighty Being, to whom, in this awful crisis of his existence, he was confiding the everlasting interests of his soul. He arranged, minutely, his worldly affairs,-bequeathing of his small property, a large share to the cause of Missions in Africa. A sum of money in his hands was counted and delivered to a friend by himself. It is evening--the sun has already gone down that shall rise for him no more. A few individuals gather in sorrow around his bed.But sorrow cannot stay there. It is not for them to give but to receive consolation. Their tears are those only of admiration and love. Cheerful words are on the lips of the dying, his eye kindles with the spirit, his countenance beams with the smile of immortality. The faithful, the toil-worn, the victorious soldier, is going from the field of his conflict, and his fame, to his long repose. He is not alone. The conqueror of death conducts him to the eternal honours of his kingdom. "Pretiosa mors sanctorum, pretiosa plane tanquam finis laborum, tanquam victoriæ consummatio, tanquam vitæ Januae, et perfectæ securitatis ingressus."* He expired gently, and in a moment, on the evening of the 25th of August, 1828, in the thirty-fifth year of his age. On the next day, a large concourse of the citizens of New Haven, and of the neighbouring towns, united in a solemn tribute of respect to his memory, and attended his remains to the grave. The assembly had already filled the Central Church, to which the body of the deceased was conveyed, and the Minister of Christ just concluded his humble supplications to the God of all mercy and consolation, when a venerable, solitary female, entered the congregation, and with a look which told what her tongue might in vain have essayed to speak, approached the corpse. It was the mother of Ashmun! Every heart in that vast assembly beat fainter, as they beheld this aged matron, who had travelled for several days and nights from a remote part of the country, in the hope of embracing her living son, pressing her lips and her heart upon the coffin which concealed all that remained of that son in death, forever from her sight.t * "Precious is the death of saints-precious as the end of their labours, the consummation of their victory, the gate of life and entrance into perfect security." †The warmth of the season rendered it imprudent to open the coffin-a circumstance painful at the time-but which left uneffaced in the memory of the venerable parent of Ashmun, those pleasing ideas of her son, which his early manly beauty had impressed upon it. The Discourse of the Rev. Leonard Bacon, on this occasion, (which has been given to the public) was a just and eloquent defence of the spirit, that animates the martyrs to a great and good cause, and under the power of which, Ashmun had sacrificed his life in the service of Africa. "His example (said the preacher) shall speak." "There have been men whose names are way-marks; whose examples, through successive ages, stir the spirits of their fellow-men with noble emulation. What has been done for God, and for the souls of men, and for the cause of wretched human nature, by the luster which gathers around the name of DAVID BRAINERD. How many lofty spirits has the simple history of his toils and sorrows kindled and roused to kindred enterprise. Other names there are, which beam from age to age with the same glory. HOWARD, CLARKSON, SWARTZ, MILLS,-what meaning is there in such names as these. Our departed friend will add another to that brilliant catalogue. He takes his place "Amid th' august and never dying light Of constellated spirits who have gained A name in heaven by power of heavenly deeds." "Let us praise God for the light of his example, which shall never be extinguished, and which, as it beams on us, shall also beam on our children, and our children's children, moving them to deeds of godlike benevolence." "Praise for yet one more name with power endowed, Yet one more image, on the heart bestowed, We have come to his grave. A simple, but beautiful monument erected by the Managers of the American Colonization Society, in the church-yard of New Haven, (a spot which na ture has made lovely, and which affection and piety have planted with trees and flowers, as if anxious to throw a charm and fragrance around the resting-places of the dead,) bears the name of ASHмUN. This monument may perish, but that name never. It is engraven on the heart of Africa. In his person, Mr. Ashmun was tall-his hair and eyes light-his features regular and cast in the finest mould-his manners mild, yet dignified—and in his countenance an expression of the gentlest affections softened the lineaments of a lofty, firm, and fearless mind. He early saw the truth and felt the power of the Christian Religion. Its principles were ever living and active in his soul. The passions of youth might war against them in the conflict with temptation, they might seem, for a moment, giving way; but they were indestructible—of the seed of God that liveth and abideth forever. In grief, and temptation, and reproach-in want, and danger, and pain-when so cast down by affliction, that his soul became weary of life, he acknowledged himself under the discipline of the Almighty; he praised the name of God with a song, and magnified it with thanksgiving.— While, with David, he remembered the works of God and his wonders of old, his troubled thoughts were soothed, and he exclaimed, "Why art thou cast down, O my soul? Why art thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God; for I shall yet praise Him, who is the health of my countenance and my God." Strengthened by the consolations of God, his spirit rose towards the innumerable company of just men made perfect, who once in tribulation like his, now stand inaccessible to misery or to danger, on the "mountains of glory," and seem to bend upon him looks of tenderness and love. "Such is the power of dispensing blessings which Providence has attached to the truly great and good, that they cannot even die without advantage to their fellow-creatures; for death consecrates their example; and the wisdom which might have been slighted at the council table, becomes oracular at the shrine. Those rare excellencies, which make our |