Lynn, June, 1835, and was stationed at Randolph, Mass. On account of the unfriendly disposition manifested by the society in that place to the economy of the Methodist Episcopal Church, after a few months he was removed by his presiding elder (Rev. B. Otheman) to Salem, Mass. He was stationed at the latter place at the following session of the conference in 1836. At the conference of 1837 he was ordained to the office of deacon, and was again stationed at Salem. Our brethren in that city were involved, and had been for a long season, in difficulties and trials such as have seldom fallen to the lot of their sister churches. This rendered his situation, during the two and a half years of his pastoral connection with them, one of anxiety and toil. Yet he was sustained and encouraged by the assurance, that his labours were not in vain in the Lord. The Head of the church smiled on his efforts, and many souls were given him as seals of his ministry.

At the conference of 1838 he was appointed to the charge of the church in Broomfield-street, Boston, one of the largest and oldest of the Methodist churches in NewEngland. During his ministry in Boston, he held a high place in the esteem and affections of the people, and we have reason to rejoice in the reflection that he was rendered to them a blessing.

After receiving his appointment as pastor of Broomfieldstreet church, he was married, in July, 1838, to Miss Mary Ann Mudge, of Lynn. It was a happy union; alas, that it was to be of so short duration !

The following month he was called to suffer another distressing bereavement, and, to him, the last. Death again found his way to our family, and we were left to mourn the removal of our affectionate and beloved father. For several of the latter years of his life he had sustained the relation of a local preacher in the Methodist Episcopal Church, and it was his delight to preach "the un

searchable riches of Christ." He died August 14, 1838, happy and triumphant.

At the conference of 1839 my brother was ordained to the office of elder, and was returned to the Broomfieldstreet church. This brings us to the closing scene of his ministry and life.

His health, which was constitutionally feeble, had been for some time sinking under labours which he had not the strength to sustain. During the session of the conference he was actively engaged in the discharge of the duties assigned him as a member of that body. Love for the cause of Christ seemed to urge him on, while his pallid countenance and emaciated frame were the sad indications that he was not long to be spared to his brethren and to the church. At the close of the session, he was intending to travel for a few weeks, in the hope that rest and a change of scene might tend to the restoration of his health. But while making the arrangements for his journey, he was attacked by hemorrhage of the lungs, and was soon laid on his bed of sickness. It was not the privilege of the writer to be with his dear brother during the last trying scene, nor for many months previous; the letters he has received, however, from those who were with him, bear witness to the Christian calmness and resignation with which he finished his course. The summons to die came when he looked not for it, but, through the grace given unto him, it found him prepared. Most earnestly did he desire to live, it is true; it was not, however, that he feared to die, but that he might labour a little longer in the vineyard of his blessed Master. During the whole of his sickness," says his bereaved companion, in a letter written soon after his death, "he expressed a strong desire to recover, that he might be useful. The thought of giving up preaching was very painful to him. It seemed to him, he at one time said to me, worse

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than death. At another time he said, 'You know that I never preached for money nor for fame; and it does not seem possible that the Lord will take me away now, just as I have begun to be useful, and when my whole soul is in the work.' He often said to me, 'If it were not for you and the church I could give up the thoughts of getting well very easily.' He had much faith in prayer, and was very anxious that his friends should pray that he might be raised up with health sufficient to preach the gospel. He took great delight in hearing the Bible read. 'There are

6

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Am

two things,' he remarked to me one day, 'which have been very sweet to me.' I asked what they were. replied, 'Secret prayer, and hearing you read from the Bible, especially the Psalms; it seems as though they were written for me.' After his last attack of hemorrhage, which was very severe, I asked him to tell me in a few words (upon the slate) how he felt in regard to himself. He wrote, Sometimes think that I must die generally think I shall be raised up again-better than ever. not ready to die, but feel a calmness about it truly wonderful. Have no doubt but that I love God.' He had several severe temptations during his sickness, but they were of short continuance, and he could generally say that he felt resigned and happy. He did not feel at any time that he should die. When informed on Sunday morning that he was dying, he said, 'It cannot be that I am dying; it does not seem to me that my work is done; yet I am perfectly willing, if it is the Lord's will.' He then addressed his physician, thanking him for his kind attentions, and exhorting him to be faithful in the service of God. same in substance,' he continued, ' to Mr. man who had been very kind to him ;) beg him from me to repent and attend to the concerns of his soul. Tell him that there is one thing for which I have wished to live-that I might set an example to the young men of

6

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; (a young

Boston.

He then spoke to his friends separately, exhorting them to meet him in heaven, and expressing for them the same strong affection which he ever exhibited through life. I asked him if he had any message for Elijah, to which he replied, 'Tell him I love him much, that I always loved him—to be faithful—to do all the good he can; that I should be glad to have his health to try.' Brother King was requested to pray; during the prayer, his sufferings, from difficulty of respiration, were very great. The physician, feeling his pulse, told him he thought he would live but a few minutes. He, however, afterward revived, and lingered until four o'clock the following morning, during which time he appeared to suffer greatly, and was much wandering."

The following extract from a letter to the editor, by the Rev. D. S. King, gives an additional view of his last hours:

"His last day with us was the holy sabbath. Previous to that, although very weak, he had entertained hopes of surviving his sickness, and resuming his labours. On the morning of that day he was informed by his physician, Dr. A. B. Snow, that he could not recover, and must soon depart. He then very deliberatively took leave of his friends, and gave directions concerning his earthly remains; after which he added:

"The first two or three days I did not think my sickness serious; and since then, I have not thought it unto death: I expected a year or two of suspense, and then to finish (my course) with joy, and enter into eternal life.'

"The doctor has said I ought not to spend a great deal of time praying, because I have not the strength; but I have taken peculiarly sweet delight in praying and hearing prayer, and in hearing God's word read.'

"In the course of the forenoon he said, 'I want to tell brother King'- -I drew near his bedside, and he con

tinued, 'You know it is with much labour, and fear, and trembling that I have preached. It has pleased the Lord to give me some success in the work. This, with my feelings, gives me confidence that I am his child. I have the witness of the Spirit that I am a child of God.'

"Wishing to know, in the afternoon, what his views and feelings were, I remarked to him that Dr. Payson said, in his last sickness, that the Sun of righteousness. had been drawing nearer and nearer, and now filled the whole hemisphere; and that the river of death appeared but as an insignificant rill, that might be crossed at a single step.' I then asked how it seemed to him. He answered, 'It is very small-and all daylight.'

"In the time of church service in the afternoon I asked him what would be his message to the congregation at Broomfield-street, could he be permitted to preach to them again. After a short pause he answered: 'I would say to the impenitent, Repent; I am sent from the grave to tell you! I would say to the church, Be faithful-at the peril of your present peace, at the peril of a peaceful death, and as you value the felicity and glory of the eternal world.' Here he paused, and then added, ' But they would not FEEL it.'

"All the remarks here attributed to your brother were uttered in broken accents, and with the utmost effort. And they are all in his own language, as I noted it at the time, not for publication, but as the last testament of one I loved.

"It seemed to him a mysterious providence that he should be called from his labours so soon, after having spent so much time in preparing to be useful. He indulged an ardent desire to live that he might do good. Nevertheless he could say in the language of his Master, 'Not as I will, but as thou wilt.'

"His toils are over. He has gone to be with Christ.