Wednesday, Nov. 27th. He caught cold, was worse from the exertion, and did not go out again.

"He still continued to hear the theological class at his house. Their last recitation was only a week before his death; his sufferings were extreme; his debility scarcely permitted him to utter himself at all; but again his mind abstracted itself from its sympathy with an agonized frame; and in a discourse of one hour and a half on the doctrine of the Trinity, he reasoned and illustrated in the most cogent and interesting manner, and left an indelible impression on the minds of his pupils. It was his last effort in his delightful employment of Instruction."

During his confinement, however, he was not idle; his mind was as active as when he was in sound health. Probably there are very few periods of his life, of the same length, in which he wrote more than from June to December.

He continued in this state of labour and suffering, until Tuesday the 7th of January. He had been recently afflicted by the death of his friends; the Rev. Nathan Strong, D. D., of Hartford, who was also his class-mate; and the Rev. Azel Backus, D. D., President of Hamilton College, in the State of New York. Upon hearing of the death of Dr. Strong, he remarked, that the lights of his class were nearly extinguished; alluding to the death of that gentleman and those of the Rev. Charles Backus, of Somers, and the Rev. David Ely, D. D., of Huntington. With the latter gentleman, in addition to the friendship that had subsisted between them from their youth, he had been associated with the utmost harmony, throughout the whole period of his presidency, as a member of the corporation of the College. On Tuesday the symptoms of his disease appeared more favourable than

they had done at any time previous, and his family and physicians were led to entertain very strong hopes that it had passed its crisis, and was experiencing a happy change. On the following morning, however, as he got out of bed, he was seized with a strong nervous affection, which shook his whole frame, and gave rise, in a short time, to the most alarming apprehensions. This paroxysm was succeeded by a high fever, and a constant propensity to drowsiness. When the physicians visited him at ten o'clock in the forenoon, they found it necessary to bleed him. He continued strongly affected by these various symptoms through the day. His pulse was quick, his face in some measure flushed, his brain in a considerable degree affected, and he felt a continued drowsiness, and, at times, severe turns of pain from his local disease. In the evening he became more wakeful, and the severity of his distress increased. In order to relieve him from the pain, a moderate quantity of laudanum was administered. He did not converse much on Wednesday; his excess of suffering, with the affection of the brain, put it out of his power.

He was restless a considerable part of the night, but gained an hour or two of sleep; owing probably to the opiate which he had taken. On Thursday morning he got out of his bed, was dressed, and sat in his chair through the day. He was not so much inclined to drowsiness as on the preceding day; but frequently groaned from extreme pain and distress, and did not enter much into conversation through the day. At the same time, he answered all questions put to him, with clearness and promptitude; inquired particularly of his friends and neighbours, as they called to see him, concerning their health and that of their families; and showed the same affectionate interest in their welfare, that he

had uniformly manifested through life. At evening he attempted to make his usual family prayer, and proceeded for a few minutes with clearness and propriety, but a paroxysm of pain rendered him incapable of utterance, and he desisted. This was the last attempt he made to pray in the family.

Through Thursday night, he became more disturbed and distressed, resting but little; and in the morning it was apparent, from his symptoms, generally, and the change of his countenance and voice, that his end was rapidly approaching. From the great strength of his constitution, and the peculiar excitement of his nervous system, caused by his disease, and perhaps, from the effect which it had produced upon his mind, it was apprehended by his family, that he was not aware of his approaching dissolution. The fact was, therefore, announced to him, accompanied with a suggestion, that if he had any wishes to express, or directions to give, with regard to his worldly concerns, it was to be feared that it was necessary to attend to the subject without delay. He received the intelligence with great calmness ; and as soon as his situation would perimit, proceeded to express his wishes on the subject. Under the paroxysms of pain, his mind was more prone to wander, than it had been the two former days. It recurred, however, to a clear and unclouded state, when the paroxysm ceased. At short intervals through the day, when he was the most nearly free from pain, he conversed on various subjects in his usual manner. Subjects connected with the great objects of his labours, his desires, and his prayers, through life: the out-pouring of the Spirit of God, revivals of religion, the propagation of Christianity, and the dissemination of the Scriptures; were not only near his heart, but, when mentioned, kindled

his feelings and awakened his devotion. A day or two previous to his being taken so unwell, he had received from the Rev. Dr. Marshman, at Serampore, a very elegant printed specimen of a Chinese translation of the Scriptures. On this subject, he was peculiarly interested, and expressed himself feelingly and with force, on the progress of Evangelical Truth among the heathen.

In the course of Friday evening, at his request, the eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans was read to him. He listened to it with great attention; remarked upon a mistranslation in one or two places; spoke with much fervour of pious emotion on the subject of the chapter; and at the close of it, exclaimed, "O what a glorious Apostrophe!" He also made a number of remarks on the opinions and sentiments of some of the English divines, particularly Clark and Waterland, on the doctrine of the Trinity.

The subject of his approaching dissolution was again introduced in the afternoon of that day. He said he was not aware that it was very near; that he had yet a great deal of strength; but still it might be so; as strong constitutions did sometimes suddenly give way. Upon being reminded, that his religious friends would be gratified to learn his views and feelings at the prospect of death, he began to make some remarks upon the great and precious promises of the Gospel, when he was seized with a paroxysm of distress, which prevented him from proceeding. A few hours before his death, the subject was, for the last time, mentioned. He appeared to comprehend the object in view; and, though he spoke with difficulty, he answered with entire clearness; that in the extreme sickness with which he was visited in the spring, during some weeks of which he had no expec

tation of recovery, he had experienced more support and comfort from religion, and the promises of the Gospel, than he had ever realized at any former period of his life. "Had I died then," said he, "that fact would doubtless have been considered as affording strong evidence of the sincerity and reality of my faith: but, as I recovered, it probably made but little impression." It was a sentiment often inculcated by him, that it was more safe to rely upon the tenour of a person's life, as evidence of the true state of his religious character, than upon declarations made upon a death-bed. In the above-mentioned remark, there is little reason to doubt that he alluded to that subject, and intended that it should apply to his former sentiments.

After this, he requested his brother to read to him the 17th of John. While listening to the latter verses of the chapter, he exclaimed, "O, what triumphant truths!" Afterwards the 14th, 15th, and 16th chapters were read to him. He listened attentively and spoke with lively interest on various passages. His mind evidently wandered while the last chapter was reading, and it was not completed.

A few hours before his death, one of his friends observed to him, that he hoped he was able, in his present situation, to adopt the language of the Psalmist, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me-Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." He immediately replied, "I hope so." For several of his last hours, his organs of speech were so much affected, that it was with difficulty he could articulate distinctly. Many of his words could not be understood. There is, however, no doubt, that, during that period, his mind was unclouded, and his thoughts were fixed on death and heaven. He was occupied