able to say, she should depart. She then offered a most fervent prayer for her family and friends, calling many by name, and in two or three minutes, very quietly resigned her breath.'1

MRS. SARAH NOON, of Waltham, Mass., died May, 1887, aged 48. She had experienced many trials during her life; and when death approached, she was surrounded with a young, dependent family, who had a short time before lost their father by death. She was sustained, however, by those hopes and joys which spring from the gospel. And while others wept, she talked of these spiritual blessings, and exhorted them to rejoice in the truth, and prepare themselves to die, by learning to live in the light of Christian faith and love. Never shall I forget an interview held with her a few weeks before her decease. Her children were bitterly weeping around her, and others present were deeply affected with grief. She saw and realized it all; but faith kept her at peace within. She told her children that God would be their father; that they must put all their trust in him; and that when he pleased, he would take them to the same happy home which was in reserve for her. Then she would exult in the hope of immortality; and seem utterly unable to express her deep joy in view of the beauties and glories of the gospel of universal grace and salvation.

A clerical friend (Rev. J. Nichols, now of Claremont, N. H.) speaks of her as follows: The Sabbath evening previous to her departure I was called to visit her, and on approaching the bed-side where she lay, the subject of much bodily pain, she addressed me in language of resignation and composure, saying that she should like to have seen me before, that she might have conversed with me freely; that her strength was almost exhausted; that she was soon going home; that she died a believer in the sal

I Trumpet, Vol. 9, No. 50.

vation of all men, and wished to have testimony borne to the fact. On beholding her children and friends weeping around her, she said, "you ought not to weep, children; you ought to rejoice. Who would not rejoice to go home to God?" She exhorted me to be faithful to the work in which I had engaged, to keep a conscience void of offence, and to leave the event with God, who would most assuredly accomplish his benevolent designs with regard to the salvation of a sinful world. As my time was limited by a pre-engagement, I was under the necessity of leaving her sooner than I could have wished; for I could not but feel that God was there, affording her consolation, and enabling her to administer it to others. On bidding her farewell, she said, "we shall not meet again on earth; but we shall meet in heaven." In reply, I said, "I hope we shall;" at which she cast an impressive look upon me, saying, "you don't doubt it." I felt in this language of the dying woman, a mild rebuke; and after assuring her I did not, bid her farewell. She lingered for a few days and then departed in joy and peace.'

The

MR. WILLIAM HALEY, of Cambridge, Ms., died Sept. 15, 1887, aged 30. The subjoined account is from the pen of Rev, H. Bacon. first interview I had with him was such an one as will never be effaced from my memory. When I deemed the sick one prepared, I adverted to his dangerous case, and asked him if he could think of death without dread? His countenance instantly assumed the expression of despair, and the tears burst from his eyes, as if a fountain were unloosed, as he suddenly drew the clothes of his bed over his head-seeming desirous to shrink from his thoughts, or as one who would hide himself from the fearful impression of an awful dream. I therefore deferred conversation on this subject at that time-leaving him after prayer. That prayer was the angel of the first true light of religion that beamed in upon his

mind-for, although a prudent and sober individual, he had during life given no special attention to the subject of religious truth. Now at death's door he needed its consolations. After this, my visits to him were more frequent. His mind and heart increased in gospel light and peace. The Bible, and Smith on Divine Government, were the only books he desired to hear read; and his growth in the knowledge of divine things was truly astonishing; for his whole mind and soul were absorbed therein. During the last two months of his sickness, his death was expected almost daily, so weak had he become. But with the waste of the body he realized the increase of the spirit. He could now talk of death calmly-joyfully; and much did he say to inspire his weeping and sickly wife with fortitude and resignation. He had in his soul the witness of the Spirit; Christ was in him the hope of glory; and when the last hour was come, he was full of triumph; and his little strength was used alternately in telling of the joy of faith and hope, and in comforting his wife and sister. As the moment of departure drew nigh, strange strength seemed given him; his shouts of gladness had an awfulness in them from their very intensity; and he died in the very arms of hope.'

MRS. HARRIET C. KENDALL of Woburn, Ms., died March 4, 1889, aged 29. For some time previous to her death, she was so extremely weak, it was with difficulty that her friends could understand her; but she had the exercise of her reason all the time, even long after she had lost the power of speech. A friend gives the following account of her last days. About two weeks before her death she told me that her confidence in the free and impartial grace of God for all mankind was firm and unshaken; and spoke of his goodness to her in supporting, and giving her such patience and resignation during her sickness. About one week before her death, when she appeared very low, her mother

asked her how she felt. "O mother-happy visions! happy visions!" was her reply. And the night before her death, she expressed a wish to see her physician, and inquired of her mother after he left, if he considered her near her end, and was told that he did; at which she expressed much satisfaction. The next evening, at about 10 o'clock, the hand of death appeared to be laid on her, and she seemed to take no notice of any thing until about 12, when her speech came to her, and she bid her husband and friends who were present, farewell, saying, "I am going where Christ reigns triumphant. He has fought, and won the victory for all mankind. His reign will be triumphant! triumphant!" And turning to her husband, she said, My children, my children, dear, dear children, farewell-farewell!" She lingered until about 5, the next morning, and then quietly fell asleep.'1

MR. DAVID MOODY, of Newbury, Ms., died Feb. 27, 1839, aged 25. He was sorely afflicted with bodily disease during the last five years of his life. He endured a most painful operation in the removal of a large tumor from the breast. This afforded only temporary relief. The disease returned upon him, and showed itself to have a general hold upon the system. It finally threatened to deprive him of life. But here,' writes a friend, 'the glorious faith of the gospel came in to sustain him. He became a strong believer in the universal grace of God about the time his health began to fail him; and this heavenly faith, as though it was given for the very purpose, continued his stay and strong defence to the very close. It was the all-absorbing topic of conversation, and the theme upon which his mind seemed constantly to dwell. He was visited often by his neighbors of a different faith, but so manifest was it to all who saw and heard him, that

1 Trumpet, Vol. 11, No. 34.

his heart was full of the love of heaven, and that his views were to him of the greatest value, that no one could find it in his heart to molest him, or to doubt of his final rest in heaven.

Towards the close of his life, he was visited by Rev. Mr. D―, the Congregational minister of the place, who treated him with great kindness and charity; and was so well persuaded of the genuine work which his faith had accomplished, that he was constrained to acknowledge him to be a Christian in the fullest and happiest sense. Just before he breathed his last, he took a brother of another faith by the hand, and said distinctly, "Brother B., I die in the full belief of the salvation of all men." Then taking leave of his wife, his little child, his mother, sister, brothers, and other friends, he sank quietly back upon his pillow, and repeated the stanza from the beautiful hymn called "The Dying Christian:"

"What is this absorbs me quite,
Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?
Tell me my soul, can this be death?

The world recedes-it disappears!
Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears
With sounds seraphic ring;

Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly !

These were the last perfect sentences which he uttered. In a few hours his spirit took its flight to God his Father, in whose love he had ardently trusted. His funeral was attended by the minister before mentioned, who in the true Christian spirit bore testimony to all present that the sickness of this individual had been one of the most interesting he had ever seen, and his death one of the most happy and triumphant.'1

MR. ADDISON PARKER, of Lowell, Ms., died March, 1839, aged 30. We cannot give the account of this death in a more acceptable form than 1 Trumpet, Vol. 11, No. 41.