roads, which had been rendered extremely heavy and disagreeable by the extraordinary equinoctial storm of that year. As usual, he preached every sabbath on that journey, and was thought by his friends never to have discovered more force of intellect, or higher powers of eloquence, than on these occasions. This was the last journey that he ever made. On the meeting of College in October, he resumed his customary labours in the chapel, and in the recitation-room, and performed them with his usual vigour, until the month of February; when he was seized with the first threatening attack of the disease to which he finally became a victim. That attack was severe and painful to a degree, of which those who did not witness it can have no conception. It made rapid and fearful ravages in a constitution which had increased in strength and firmness for more than sixty years, and which promised to human expectation, to last to a "good old age." His patience, as well as his faith, were now brought to a most severe and heart-searching test. The pain which he endured, and endured with unyielding fortitude, was beyond the powers of description. For several weeks during the month of April, scarcely any hopes were entertained, either by himself, his friends, or his physicians, of his recovery. Amidst all his sufferings, not a murmur, not a repining expression, escaped from his lips. His mind was perfectly clear, and his reason unclouded. Patience under suffering, and resignation to the will of God, were exhibited by him in the most striking and exemplary manner, from day to day. His conversation was the conversation of a Christian, not only free from complaint, but, at times, cheerful and animated-his prayers were fervent, but full of humility, submission, and hope.

At the end of twelve weeks, his disease assumed a more favourable appearance. By surgical aid, he gained a partial relief from his distress; and his constitutional energy, still unbroken, raised the hopes of his friends that he might recover. He was unable to preach in the chapel until after the May vacation. On the 2nd of June, he delivered to his pupils a sermon, composed for the occasion during his sickness, from Psalm xciv. 17, 18, 19, "Unless the LORD had been my Help, my Soul had almost dwelt in silence. When I said, My foot slippeth; thy mercy,

The

LORD, held me up. In the multitude of my thoughts within me, thy comforts delight my soul." After a pertinent and solemn introduction, and an allusion to his own sickness and sufferings, the dangerous situation in which he had recently been placed, and the little probability there was, for a time, that he should recover; he proceeded to make a practical use of the doctrine, and the subject. The scene was peculiarly impressive and affecting. In no instance, during his presidency, until then, had he been kept from his pulpit by sickness or any other cause. change in his countenance and general appearance, was great and alarming. The plan of the discourse was new, the thoughts were deeply interesting, the language plain, but forcible, the manner of delivery solemn and impressive. The mind can scarcely imagine a case in which an audience, comprised of youths, full of feeling, and ardent in the pursuit of reputation and happiness, would be more deeply affected than this must have been, when hearing from the lips of their revered pastor and teacher the following truths, on the true character of worldly good.

"To him who stands on the brink of the grave, and the verge of eternity, who retains the full possession of his reason, and who at the same time is disposed to serious contemplation, all these things become mightily changed in their appearance. To the eye of such a man, their former alluring aspect vanishes, and they are seen in a new and far different light.

"Like others of our race, I have relished several of these things, with at least the common attachment. Particularly, I have coveted reputation, and influence, to a degree which I am unable to justify. Nor have I been insensible to other earthly gratifications; either to such, as, when enjoyed with moderation, are innocent; or, such as cannot be pursued without sin.

"But in the circumstances to which I have referred, all these things were vanishing from my sight. Had they been really valuable in any supposable degree, their value was gone. They could not relieve me from pain; they could not restore me to health; they could not prolong my life; they could promise me no good in the life to come. What then were these things to me? "A person, circumstanced in the manner, which has been specified, must necessarily regard these objects, however harm

less, or even useful, they may be supposed in their nature, as having been hostile to his peace, and pernicious to his well-being. In all his attachment to them, in all his pursuit of them, it is impossible for him to fail of perceiving, that he forgot the interests of his soul, and the commands of his Maker; became regardless of his duty, and his salvation; and hazarded for dross and dirt, the future enjoyment of a glorious immortality. It is impossible not to perceive, that in the most unlimited possession of them, the soul would have been beggared, and undone; that the gold of the world would not have made him rich; nor its esteem honourable; nor its favour happy. For this end he will discover, that nothing will suffice but treasure laid up in heaven; the lovingkindness of God; and the blessings of life eternal.

"Let me exhort you, my young friends, now engaged in the ardent pursuit of worldly enjoyments, to believe, that you will one day see them in the very light in which they have been seen by me. The attachment to them which you so strongly feel, is unfounded, vain, full of danger, and fraught with ruin. You will one day view them from a dying bed. There, should you retain your reason, they will appear as they really are. They will then be seen to have two totally opposite faces. Of these you have hitherto seen but one. That, gay, beautiful, and alluring as it now appears, will then be hidden from your sight; and another, which you have not seen, deformed, odious, and dreadful, will stare you in the face, and fill you with amazement, and bitterness. No longer pretended friends, and real flatterers; they will unmask themselves; and appear only as tempters, deceivers, and enemies, who stood between you and heaven; persuaded you to forsake your God; and cheated you out of eternal life."

"But no acts of obedience will then appear to you to have merited, in any sense, acceptance with God. In this view, those acts of my life concerning which I entertained the best hopes, which I was permitted to entertain, those, which to me appeared the least exceptionable; were nothing, and less than nothing. The mercy of God as exercised towards our lost race, through the all-sufficient and glorious righteousness of the Redeemer, yielded me the only foundation of hope for good beyond the grave. During the long continuation of my disease, as I was

always, except when in paroxysms of suffering, in circumstances entirely fitted for solemn contemplation; I had ample opportunity to survey this most interesting of all subjects on every side. As the result of all my investigations, let me assure you, and that from the neighbourhood of the Eternal World, Confidence in the Righteousness of CHRIST, is the only foundation furnished by earth, or heaven, upon which, when you are about to leave this world, you can safely, or willingly, rest the everlasting life of your souls. To trust upon any thing else, will be to feed upon the wind, and sup up the East wind. You will then be at the door of eternity; will be hastening to the presence of your Judge; will be just ready to give up your account of the deeds done in the body; will be preparing to hear the final sentence of acquittal or condemnation; and will stand at the gate of Heaven or of Hell. In these amazing circumstances you will infinitely need; let me persuade you to believe, and to feel, that you will infinitely need, a firm foundation on which you may stand, and from which you will never be removed. There is no other such foundation, but the Rock of Ages. Then you will believe, then you will feel, that there is no other. The world, stable as it now seems, will then be sliding away from under your feet. All earthly things on which you have so confidently reposed, will recede and vanish. To what will you then betake yourselves for safety?"

On the 17th of June, the same year, the General Association of Connecticut met at New Haven. It was a meeting of unusual interest; and he was able to be present during most of their deliberations. He rejoiced to see the actual establishment of the Domestic Missionary Society of that State for building up its waste churches; in forming the plan of which, he cheerfully lent his assistance. The year preceding was eminently distinguished for Revivals of Religion; and he listened with a heart overflowing with joy and gratitude to the account of this glorious Work of God. After the recital, the Eucharist was celebrated; and upwards of one thousand communicants, including about seventy clergymen, received the elements. He was invited by the Association to break the Bread. Though pale and enfeebled by disease, and obviously exhausted by strong emotion, he consented. His Prayer on that occasion, was eminently humble,

spiritual, and heavenly. It annihilated the distance between the Church in Heaven and the Church around him; and, for the moment, they were together. The address, which blended the affecting considerations customarily growing out of the Sacrament, with others derived from the triumphs of the Cross to which they had just been listening, left an impression on the audience, which probably will not disappear but with life.

Although the disease with which President Dwight was afflicted, and by which his life had been so seriously threatened, was not removed; yet the severity of it was so far relaxed, that he was able, through the summer, to preach steadily in the chapel, to hear the recitations of the senior class, and to attend to a class of theological students who were pursuing their studies under his direction. Still, he was not in a situation to pass a day, without resorting repeatedly to the surgical operation, by the aid of which he had in the first instance gained relief from his excruciating distress. But his mind was not idle during the intervals of his professional and official labours. In addition to the sermon which has been mentioned, he wrote, during this season, several Essays on the Evidences of Divine Revelation, derived from the writings of St. Paul, and on other subjects the whole forming matter for a considerable volume. The last of these Essays was finished three days before his death. He also wrote the latter half of a Poem of about fifteen hundred lines:-a work of the imagination, the subject of which is, a contest between Genius and Common Sense, on their comparative merits :-the question referred to and decided by Truth. He had projected a series of Essays on moral, and literary subjects, under the title of " The Friend," to be published, in the manner of the Spectator, once a week in a half sheet. Several numbers were written, as an exercise, for the purpose of satisfying himself, by the experiment, how many he could compose in a given space of time, without interfering with his other duties. He had also projected a periodical publication, to combine the common characteristics of a Review and Magazine, but upon a much more extensive plan than any single work of the kind that has appeared in this country, or even in Europe. A prospectus of this publication he had drawn up; and it was his determination, had his life been spar