of good, he might be emboldened to speak to it, and learn its errand, but if it was a spirit of evil, that it might be commanded to depart, and suffered to trouble them no more. During the prayer, the sound grew louder and more terrific, till at the conclusion, in a piercing shriek it departed, and never returned again. Those who have heard Elder Leland relate the incident, describe the sound he made in imitation of it, as unearthly and frightful to the last degree. It may be left to the imagination of the reader to picture to itself the amount and intensity of mental suffering which this event alone must have produced.

It has been remarked of Mrs. Leland, that her faith was strong. Indeed, on some occasions, it seemed to rest on grounds that partook of the character of revelations. An instance of this kind occurred in the storm by which they were overtaken on their passage from Virginia to New England, in 1791. After twelve hours of incessant watching and agonizing prayer, expecting momentarily to go to the bottom, she appeared to sink into a slumber; but presently turning to her husband, she exclaimed, "We shall not be lost." She had received this assurance from a figure in white which seemed to stand before her, measuring off piece after piece of a long white cord, and which said to her, "The vessel cannot sink, I have undergirded it."

In her last illness, she exhibited the utmost patience and resignation under all her sufferings. She spoke with great warmth and animation of the Divine goodness to her, and especially found cause of thankfulness in the circumstance, that for many weeks before her death, she did not feel the sensation of hunger. She had very humiliating views of herself; and desires proportionably great to exalt and magnify the riches of that grace which had proved sufficient in every scene of trial hitherto, and which she trusted would not fail her in the last; and truly it did not; for when the hour of release arrived, so gently did the hand of death loosen the bonds of her captivity, that not a groan was heard by those who stood around her bed, and a long life of eminent usefulness was crownd by a death of "perfect peace."

On the 12th October, 1837, a few days after the death of his wife, Elder Leland removed to the house of his son-in-law, Mr. James Greene, in Lanesborough, where he resided most of the time until his death. Thence he made frequent preaching excursions to the neighboring towns, and sometimes took journeys of considerable length. In the summer of 1838, he visited Utica and its vicinity, (the residence of his eldest son,) and was absent several weeks. The following letter, to his daughter, was written during his absence.

*

*

August 8, 1838.

I am now at Deerfield, and have made it a call-by home for about ten days past. The crops of the earth, and the heat of the air, are

great in all places where I have been. I have calls enough to preach, and have hitherto had strength to answer those calls, though in a poor, imperfect manner. My health and appetite are as good as common. All is uncertain when, or whether ever I shall return to Berkshire again. My life is not in my own hands, but I commit it, and all that I have, to the care of that Gracious Being who has fed and preserved me through an unprofitable life. I hope you will indulge no unnecessary anxiety about me; for I deserve but small favors from men, and less from the Creator. Farewell, my Fanny. Shun all the errors you have seen in me: be faithful -unto death, and you will receive a crown of life.

John Leland.

His health, after his return, was such as for some days seriously to alarm his friends. He, however, soon recovered.

In the fall of 1839, his daughter, with whom he resided, was attacked by an illness, which, after two years and a half of intense suffering, released her from the world and its cares; not, however, till she had seen her father, whose anxious solicitude in her behalf she fully reciprocated, removed to a better world. During the winter of 1840-41, he thought best, in consideration of her health, and some other circumstances, to remove, for a few weeks, to the house of Mr. Chapman, in Cheshire. He continued to "do the work of an evangelist;" and at the time of his last call at his daughter's, was on his way to North Adams, where he was soon to end his days.

On the evening of the 8th January, he preached, for the last time, to the people of that village. It is matter of regret, that this discourse, interesting not only in itself, but especially so from the circumstances of its delivery, cannot be presented entire to the public. But, as it is well known that he never wrote even the heads of his sermons, the memories of his hearers are the only source from which we can draw, for even these. A friend has kindly furnished a sketch from recollection, which is here subjoined.

"The text was from the 20th and 27th verses of the 2d chapter of the First Epistle of John. But ye have an unction from the Holy One, and ye know all things. But the annointing which ye have received of him, abideth in you; and you need not that any man teach you; but as the same anointing teacheth you of all things, and is truth, and is no lie, and even as it hath taught you, ye shall abide in him.'

"He first spoke of the nature and character of the Holy Spirit, the unction referred to, from whence it came, &c., and remarked that the same that is sometimes compared to fire and water, is here likened to oil. He spoke of the properties of oil; its being used to lubricate the wheels of machinery; and when ignited, to give light and heat; and when applied to an abraded surface, or painful limb, to mitigate pain and suffering, and

to heal the injury or wound; in all which uses it resembled the unction spoken of in the text. True Christians are anointed ones; anointed with gifts and spiritual endowments by the Spirit of Grace which comes from: the Holy One, enlightening and strengthening the eyes of the understanding, and enabling those who receive it, to know all things' concerning Christ and his religion. Those who know the truth, are by it prepared to discern what is contrary thereto. It will preserve those in whom it abides, and teaches them to abide in Christ. He spoke of the resurection—of the new birth said no one could experience it while believing in the doctrine of universal salvation.* He could extend hope and charity to those who believed that sentiment, after a change of heart, but not before.

"It is pleasant and mournful to my soul, at this moment, to recollect with what benignity of countenance he pronounced his last benediction." After the services were closed, he went to the house of Mr. Darling. A number of friends calling, he conversed freely and cheerfully, and attend.. ed prayers before retiring to bed, which he did at a rather late hour. An unusual noise being soon after heard in his chamber, Mr. D. went immediately to the room, where he found him prostrate on the floor. Feeling unwell, and a disposition to vomit, he had attempted to rise, and, as he said, "his limbs would not obey him." He was placed in bed, and means used to restore warmth to his stiffened limbs. They were partially successful, and he obtained a little rest. He had chills, however, through the night, followed by heat and thirst. He arose and dressed himself in the morning; but, being very feeble, a medical friend in the village was called in. He was pronounced very ill; and, when asked whether he thought he should recover, said "he had not the token." In his former illnesses, though he had been, to human appearance, on the very verge of the grave, he had received some token which impressed him with the conviction that he should recover. But as, in this instance, he gained no such evidence, he seemed to think it useless to make much effort for his recovery. "In this," says the physician who attended him, "I was not much disappointed, having known before that he had little confidence in medicine, unless well mixed with prayer. He freely consented, however, to use whatever remedies I thought best to administer. Not wishing to burthen his mind with even the small quantity of medicine I thought proper to give him, I directed the watchers, during the night, to mingle it with his drinks. This plan succeeded only until the next morning, when he said, 'take it away, and give me some clean water.' On the morning of the 10th, he was ap

* He has been heard to express the same opinion on other occasions, drawing his conclusions from the fact, that persons, in being made partakers of the grace of life, are brought to view themselves utterly lost without that grace-a conviction which they cannot feel, while they imagine themselves in no danger of receiving the "wages of sin, which is death."

parently better-rather talkative-related a story, or drew a comparison at every change in the conversation. At evening he was worse. He complained that he could neither stop thinking, nor direct his thoughts. His cough was becoming harder, and his breathing more laborious. He spoke with difficulty-said his tongue would not obey him. He had now most of the distinguishing symptoms of peripneumonia notha.

"11th. In the morning, easier—at evening, worse than the preceding. He had so little command of his tongue, that it was difficult to understand him. I continued the use of some medicine, though I now despaired of his recovery. On the morning of the 12th, we thought him somewhat better. He conversed pleasantly, and his eyes sparkled with much of that brilliancy of intellect which they were accustomed to exhibit when in health. In the evening, he was again worse; and while I was sitting by his bed, supposing him asleep, he said, (addressing himself,) 'well, I have nothing more to do, but die.'

"13th. Failing. He suffered apparently little, exeept his laborious breathing. Indeed, during his sickness, there was but a solitary instance in which he mentioned having any pain—it was in his left side, and continued but a few minutes. His dissolution was now almost hourly expected.

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"On the 14th, Mr. and Mrs. Chapman, with whom he had been boarding in Cheshire, visited him. He seemed much gratified, and, to our surprise, immediately began to make arrangements to return with them. In this, a little aberration of mind was apparent. With some assistance he clothed himself, called for his satchel, into which he put his Bible, then for his bills for board and medical attendance, all which being adjusted, he expressed a desire to set out for home. He was, however, prevailed on to lie down and rest a while after the fatigue he had undergone, and was assisted to the bed, from which I do not recollect that he ever again rose."

To those members of his family who could not be with him, it was a consoling reflection, even in the midst of their grief, that the hand of Provi. dence had cast him into a family of kind friends, where nothing conducive to his comfort or recovery, would be left untried. One daughter alone was permitted the privilege of watching his pillow of sickness, and standing by his dying couch. Speaking of some of his exercises, and of the closing scene, she thus remarks:—"In the beginning of his sickness he seemed conscious of his approaching dissolution—said he was ready when called, and calmly gave orders respecting his funeral. The day on which he died, he said to his physician-Yesterday, doctor, a dark cloud came over—I did not know but I should fail in my expectations above.' Choked with the bitter remembrance, he paused, but soon added-It's not so to-day.'

"His thoughts would frequently run back to her who had so often bent over his wasting form in previous sicknesses, and he would speak of the good things she used to do for him.

"Early in the evening, a young preacher (Rev. Mr. Alden) came in, and said to him— Well, Father Leland, we are going to hold a prayermeeting this evening. Have you any advice to give?' 'If you feel it in your hearts, I am glad. Forms are nothing.' These were nearly his last words; but his arm was not paralyzed, neither was his heart chilled. With his own hand he gave his own tobacco to his friends present, and indicated by signs that they should smoke. About 11 o'clock, he beckoned me to him, and tried to say 'go to bed.' I found his limbs were stiffening, and his senses lulling, and anxious to be near him till all was over, I hesitated, but finally, at the the solicitation of one of the watchers, left the 'The man soon followed, and said, 'you had better come back.' I Not a finger had moved. His spirit had taken rest in the bosom

room. came.

of its God."

Thus died John Leland—a man eminent above many for piety and usefulness, whose name is connected with all that is pure in patriotism, lovely in the social and domestic virtues, philanthropic in feeling and action, arduous, disinterested, and self-denying in the labors of the ministerial calling; one whose place in society, in the church, and in the ranks of the ministry, will not soon be filled--in the hearts of those who knew him—never.

He died, as he had lived, a witness for the truth, testifying, with his last breath, the value of that religion, and that only, which has its seat in the heart. His life had been unostentatious; his aspirations after worldly honors, ever low and feeble; his humility and sense of dependence on God, deep-felt and abiding—and thus he died. "Being with him in his last illness," (Mr. Alden remarks in his funeral sermon,) "more or less every day, I think I may say, I never saw a Christian feel more deeply his own unworthiness. Bury me,' said he, 'in an humble manner. want no encomiums; I deserve none. I feel myself a poor, miserable sinner, and Christ is my only hope.' Being asked, very near his end, what were his views of the future, he exclaimed, with both hands extended upward, and a smile I can never forget, My prospects of heaven are clear.' He seemed already to feel the everlasting rest laying its sweet influences over his soul, and bearing it up, taking away the sting of death."

I

His remains were conveyed to Cheshire for interment, where, on the 17th, a funeral discourse was pronounced over them by Rev. John Alden, from Rev. 14th and 13th.* The weather was extremely unpropitious, ye

* This discourse is already before the public, which circumstance, together with ou limited space, will sufficiently account for the omission of any further extracts.