call him hence. In conversation with his companion, who questioned him in respect to his faith, he replied with a smile, "It grows stronger-strongerstronger, every moment." On the day of his decease, and after he had become so much reduced that he could not speak aloud, when his friends came in to see him, he would fix his eyes upon them, and whisper," happy! happy! happy!" His death scene was the triumph of the Christian.

REV. WILLIAM C. HANSCO м, died at Cambridgeport, Ms., May 23, 1838, aged 22. At the time of his decease he was pastor of the First Universalist Society in Waltham. The following account of his last sickness and death, is taken from his Biography.'

'On Wednesday, after his last services at Waltham, he was seized with a violent pain in his right side. By kind care and medical treatment, he was somewhat relieved for a season; but he was failing. He left Waltham, to behold it no more-and returned to Cambridgeport. His journal of Sunday 14th, reads,

6 66

Again I am away from my people, and confined to the sick room. I have spent the day in reading and reflection, enjoying much happiness of mind, but suffering from bodily pains."

The next Saturday, 26th, he writes,—

"For the most of the time, this week, I have been very feeble; apparently growing weaker and weaker. What is in reserve for me, God only knows. To his holy will may ever be resigned."

His last record bears date February 24th, and is written in a tremulous hand. It is as follows:

"My health through the week has been more feeble than for some days before. It has been with me a season of meditation, of serious reflection. I have been thinking. I have thought of my friendsof those I dearly love of that beloved society with which I am connected-of the ties which bind me to

earth of death, and the scenes which it will unfold. I have thought too of the gospel-of its glories—its prospects and its advocates. O what mighty responsibilities rest upon them."

For an account of the remainder of his life, and some incidents connected with it, we are indebted to a journal of visits kept by Rev. Thomas Whittemore, of Cambridgeport, near whose residence our young brother spent his last days. The journal is taken from the Funeral Sermon, published in the Trumpet' of June 9, 1838. We give it verbatim:

" March 8th. Visited Br. Hanscom-found him still weaker. I have given up all hope of his recovery. His cough through the last night, he said, was almost incessant, scarcely giving him time, in the intervals, to gather up a little strength. He had only one object for which to live, viz. to labor in the cause of the gospel, especially in Waltham. He spoke with the most tender anxiety of his beloved flock there. "O that I could be with them; O that I could preach to them the tidings of redeeming love" were his words.

'Wednesday, March 21st. Called on Br. Hanscom twice this day. He told me he had no doubt his death was fast approaching. He had passed a dreadful night-it seemed as though his coughing would tear him in pieces-he had the greatest difficulty of breathing. In the midst of this intense agony, his mind was at peace. How different from his body. "The spirit," he said, "was the tenant, the body the house, and O what a shattered house is mine-broken, racked and falling. But the tenant cannot die. It will be removed to a better habitation," He referred to some remarks he had made to his beloved Bible class in Waltham, on this subject. "We cannot see the spirit, but we know it inhabits the body, After death has taken place, we can see the body as before. The tenant has departed. The spirit cannot die," Such were his thoughts, He

was perfectly calm-more so than those with whom he conversed.

"I have," said he, "made the arrangements for my funeral in my own mind. I shall try to write them. My friends in Waltham have expressed a wish that I should be buried there. If they have a desire to remove my dust to that place, it is my wish it should be done. I wish you (said he to me) to preach at my funeral, from the words of Paul, 2 Cor. v. 1: For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.' It is a precious text. O with what confidence the apostle speaks. I have often thought of it-I have often dwelt upon it in my discourses."

Thursday, April 12th. Visited Br. Hanscom this afternoon. This is the first day he has not been able to be dressed. He suffers great pain. His cough is incessant. His friends endeavored to remove him from the bed to his easy chair in the morning, but he fainted. He is suffering from a complication of diseases; and beside his disease at the lungs, he endures great agony from disease in another region. His mind is at rest on the subject of religion. "I have been," said he, "thinking of the three systems; and I find nothing lovely except in Universalism.” On inquiring whether he meant by the three systems Calvinism, Arminianism, and Universalism? he said, "No. There is but little difference between Calvinism and Arminianismthey both embrace the awful doctrine of endless sin and misery. They are one in effect. I meant by the three systems, Endless Misery, Infidelity, and Universalism-there is nothing lovely except in the

latter."

'Saturday, 14th. Br. Hanscom is very lowthough in not quite so much pain as usual. Says he, "You are going to Waltham to-morrow-give my ove to all my friends. Tell them to continue faith

ful. die."

This is my wish, whether I live, or whether I

Sunday evening, 15th. Found him sitting for a few moments in his chair; but he was shortly obliged to take his bed. He then spoke very freely to me on religious subjects. He said he was happy -he had peace within-he had not the least fear of death. Going to the grave, he said, was like going into a dark room, to lie down to sleep. He believed, and he could almost say with the apostle, he knew that he should awake in the Redeemer's likeness. "O how much comfort," said he, "have I taken in preaching the gospel, I loved the work. If I have done any good, to God be the praise. Perhaps I have injured my health, for I never could preach without earnestness, But I do not regret it. My poor shattered body is but the earthly house in decay. The immortal tenant is about to remove to a better house, a heavenly house, a house not made with hands. No, I do not regret my exertions. I desire to live only to preach the gospel; but, if God says, Your work is done, I submit to his holy will. All is right-that is my confidence." After a few moments respite, he spoke freely, in his wonted strain, of the importance of zeal, and piety among Universalists. "We should all have more zeal, more love of the cause, more love of meetings for prayer and praise,"

وو

Friday, May 11th. I proposed to him the following questions: "Are you happy in your mind? Perfectly." "It is said, Universalism fails us in the hour of sickness." He replied, "I know, from my own experience, the falsity of this statement. I believe as firmly as ever-I have no doubt. My faith is not in the least changed. My heart and soul are at peace. Could I live, I should preach more earnestly than ever. I have nothing to regret in my short ministry, except that I have done so little in preaching what I have believed to be the truth. I now see the importance of energy, of more energy,

faithfulness and devotion to the cause. brethren from me to persevere."

Tell all the

'On Sunday, 20th, it became manifest his deliverance was near; and most ardently did he pant for that hour. It was with the greatest difficulty he could breathe at all-the pain in his breast was almost insupportable-and it was necessary to change his position every few moments to give him slight relief. On Monday afternoon, I was at his bed-side. He probably supposed himself dying. His eyes were intently gazing upward, his lips were moving, and by applying my ear, I recognized these words I am going home to my Father in heaven-my home-my heavenly home-I am happy." ... Again, in a few moments, "How sweet 't would be to die;" and after a brief silence he faintly whisper

ed

'While on his breast I lean my head,

And breathe my life out sweetly there." "

'He continued to sink away until Wednesday. In the morning of this day he was able to converse a few moments with the writer, on the disposal of his manuscripts. One of his friends from Waltham, and one from Newmarket called in, and took their leave of him. A few moments past twelve he fell asleep.'

REV. THOMAS F. KING, pastor of the First Universalist Society of Charlestown, Ms., died Sept. 13, 1839. He was one of the truly excellentwhether we speak of him as a man or a Christian. He was cut down in the prime of manhood, in the midst of usefulness. Yet in his death we have a bright witness of the strength of that holy truth, which, when in life and health he proclaimed to others. During all his sickness, this truth cheered him-nor for one moment was he troubled with spiritual darkness or doubt. During an interview with him a short time previous to his death, he remarked to the writer, "I have had not a cloud in this chamber since I have been here. All is bright!" Others