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and peace in believing," which now filled his soul; and one "particle of which," he sometimes said, 'ten thousand worlds would not tempt him to part with."
He bore his bodily afflictions with the most exemplary patience, and even cheerfulness, and continually expressed his thankfulness that they were not greater; sometimes saying, "What a blessing it is to be allowed to slip gently and gradually out of life as I am doing!" He would not allow any one to speak of his sufferings, always saying, "they did not deserve a stronger name than inconveniences." He neither complained himself, nor would permit others to complain for him. Once, when the nurse who attended him said, "Oh that cough! how troublesome it is!" he replied, "Have a little patience, nurse: I shall soon be in a better world; and what a glorious change that will be!" Indeed, the joy of his mind seemed to have absorbed all sense of his physical sufferings. I once remarked to him, that he appeared to have experienced no intermission of these joyful feelings; and he answered, "For some months past never," and never the smallest rising of any thing like impatience or complaint. His mind, naturally active and ardent, retained all its powers in full vigour to the last moment of his life; and was never once clouded or debilitated, even in the most depressing nervous
languors. Indeed, after the whole current of his tastes and affections had been turned into a new channel, its ardour and activity rather increased than diminished, from the deep conviction which he felt of the superiority of his present views and pursuits to all that had hitherto engrossed him. During the last week of his life especially, the strength and clearness of his intellect, and of his spiritual perceptions, were very remarkable; and on its being one day observed to him that as his bodily powers decayed, those of his soul seemed to become more vigorous, he replied, "They do, exactly in an inverse ratio: I have been very sensible of it."
He conversed with the greatest animation all the day, and almost all the night, preceding his death, principally on the joys of heaven and the glorious change he was soon to experience; often exclaiming, "What a happy hour will the hour of death be!" He dwelt much on the description of the new Jerusalem in the Revelation of St. John, and listened with great delight to several passages from Baxter's "Saint's Rest," and to some of Watts's hymns on the same subject. Once in the night he said to his mother, "Surely you are not in tears! Mine is a case that calls for rejoicing, and not for sorrow. Only think what it will be to drop this poor, frail, perishing body, and to go to the glories that are set before me!" Not more than an hour before his death, when he had
been expressing his faith and hope in very animated terms, I remarked to him, how striking the uniformity of faith and of feeling expressed by believers at every distance of time and place! and spoke of it as an indisputable evidence that these graces are wrought by "one and the selfsame Spirit," and as a proof of the truth of the Bible, the promises and descriptions of which are thus so strikingly fulfilled and exemplified. He entered into the argument with his accustomed energy, and assented to its truth with delight. Finding himself extremely languid, he took a little milk, and desired that air might be admitted into the room; and on being asked if he felt relieved at all, said, "Very little: I can hardly distinguish, indeed, whether this is languor or drowsiness which has come over me; but it is a very agreeable feeling." Soon after, he said suddenly, "I surely must be going now, my strength sinks so fast;" and on my making some observation on the glorious prospect before him, he added, Oh, yes! I am GLAD to go, if it be the Lord's will." He shut his eyes and lay quite composed, and bye and bye said, "What glory! the angels are waiting for me!"-then, after another short interval of quiet, added, "Lord Jesus, receive my soul!" and to those who were about him, Farewell!" These were the last words he spoke he gradually and gently sunk
away, and in about ten minutes breathed his last, calmly, and without a struggle, at nine in the morning of the 9th of April, the very day on which, twelve months before, his mind had first been awakened to the hopes and joys of the ever blessed Gospel!
MR. J. W.*
As a striking contrast to this attractive scene of bliss, 1 will now call the attention of my readers to the following account of the last hours of
Mr. J. W. after completing his preparatory studies, and spending several years with an eminent surgeon in London, left his friends to pass a winter at a celebrated Northern University. Immediately on his arrival in the north, his amiable disposition and superior mental acquirements, conciliated the esteem, and procured the polite attention of all to whom he was introduced.
Before three months had elapsed, by midnight studies and habits of dissipation, he so impaired his health, that very soon his constitution became completely undermined by undermined by an illness which speedily terminated fatally.
Now, behold, this amiable young man, who but a few weeks back had every prospect of spending a long life in the honourable and benevolent discharge of his professional duties; respected and caressed by all-stretched on his sofa, and when
*The author has taken this from the Evangelical Magazine for 1815, page 97.