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triumphant frame, yet he had some small intermissions. He would cry out, "Hold out faith and patience, yet a little while, and your work is done;" and when he found not his heart raised up to the highest pitch of thankfulness, admiration, and love, he would with great sorrow bemoan himself, and cry out in this language: "And what is the matter now, O my soul? What wilt thou, canst thou, thus slight this admirable and astonishing condescension of God to thee? Seems it a small matter, that the great Jehovah should deal thus familiarly with this worm ?"

out again into another ex"Stand astonished, O ye

And then he broke tasy of joy and praise. heavens! and wonder, O ye angels, at this infinite grace! Was ever any under heaven more beholden to free grace than I? O bless the Lord with me! Come, let us shout for joy, and boast in the God of our salvation. O, help me to praise the Lord, for his mercy endureth for ever!"

To others, he said, "O my friends, stand and wonder; come, look upon a dying man and wonder. I cannot myself but wonder. Was there ever a greater kindness! Was there ever more sensible manifestations of rich grace! O, why me, Lord? Why me? Sure this is akin to heaven: and if I were never to enjoy any more than this, it were well worth all the torments men and devils could invent, to come through even a hell to such transcendent joys as these. If this be dying, dying is

sweet. Let no Christian ever be afraid of dying. O, death is sweet to me! This bed is soft. Christ's arms, his smiles and visits, sure they would turn hell into heaven! O, that you did but see and feel what I do! Come, and behold a dying man more cheerful than ever you saw any healthful man in the midst of his sweetest enjoyments. O Sirs, worldly pleasures are pitiful things compared with one glimpse of his glory which shines so strongly into my soul. O, why should any of you be so sad, when I am so glad! This, this is the hour that I have waited for."

About forty-eight hours before his death, his eyes were dim, his sight failed, and every part had the symptoms of death upon it; yet even then, if possible, his joys were greater still. He spake like one entering into the gates of the new Jerusalem not a word dropped from his mouth, but it breathed of Christ and heaven! most of his work was praise: an hundred times admiring the boundless love of God to him. "O, why me, Lord? Why me?"



He took leave of his friends every evening, expecting to see them no more till the morning of the resurrection. "Now," says the dying saint, want but one thing, and that is, a speedy lift to heaven. O, help me, help me to praise and admire him that hath done such astonishing wonders for my soul! Come, help me with praise: all is too little: Come, help me, all ye glorious and mighty

Angels, who are skilful in this heavenly work of praise. Praise is now my work, and I shall be engaged in that sweet employment for ever. Come, let us lift up our voice in praise; I with you, as long as my breath doth last, and when I have none, I shall do it better."

According to his desire, most of the time was spent in praise, and he would still be crying out, "More praise still! O help me to praise him! I have nothing else to do. I have done with prayer, and all other ordinances. I have almost done with conversing with mortals. I shall presently be beholding Christ himself, that died for me, and loved me, and washed me in his blood. I shall in a few hours be in eternity, singing the song of Moses, and the song of the Lamb. I shall presently stand upon Mount Sion with an innumerable company of angels: and the spirits of the just made perfect, and Jesus the Mediator of the New Covenant. I shall hear the voice of much people, and be one amongst them which say, Hallelujah; salvation, glory, and honour, and power unto the Lord our God! And again, we say, Hallelujah! Methinks I stand, as it were, one foot in heaven, and the other on earth. Methinks I hear the melody of heaven, and by faith I see the angels waiting to carry my soul to the bosom of Jesus, and I shall be for ever with the Lord in glory. And who can choose but rejoice in all this?"



On the Lord's Day at noon, I visited him, says my author, and at my parting with him, he said: My hopes are built on the free mercy of God, and the rich merit of Christ; and I do believe that if I am taken out of the world, I shall only change my place: I shall neither change my company nor communion."


"I feel

While his groans and strugglings in his sickness were plain indications that his body was in no small pain and disorder, his account of himself shewed that the irons did not enter his soul: for his answer to his friends, who asked him from time to time how he did, was always: "I am very well;" or, "I was never better;" or, no sickness." But finding in himself little or no ability for wonted meditation and prayer, he said to some about him: "I have been unable to form one serious thought since I fell sick; unable to apply myself to God as I ought: but though I have not been unable to apply myself to God, he hath applied himself to me; and one of his manifestations hath been such, that I could have borne no more."


His dear companion, in a flood of tears, asked him, “How she should bear to part with him?” At which he was much affected, and said, (taking her by the hand :) "My dear, don't let us part in a shower. It will be but a little while, and we shall meet never to be parted more. This I doubt not of, through the riches of Divine grace,—it is all of grace; perhaps not more than one winter, or two at farthest."


Having lain silent some time, a friend desired that he would give him his hand, as a token that the clouds were scattered; which he did, saying: "I am upheld in the arms of a Mediator."

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