early hour to visit his young friend. I was alone with Arthur when he entered. On being introduced to me he became very pale, and was much moved, but struggled to recover himself. I, however, guessed the cause of his emotion, and perceived from it what his opinion of Arthur's situation was. He sat down by Arthur, and inquired most anxiously how he felt. 6 Hastening home, dear Travers,' replied Arthur. His eyes met mine as he said this, and for an instant he became deadly pale. I was obliged to leave the room, and retire to seek strength from Heaven. Before I saw him again, I had urged Dr. to give me his real opinion,-it was hopeless. He considered Arthur in a rapid consumption, and too weak to bear any attempt to remove to a warmer climate. I shall not attempt to describe what we all felt for some days. After Arthur was aware that we knew the worst, he began to speak to his mother and sister on the subject, as he saw they could bear it. To me, and to Travers, whom he seemed to regard with the most ardent affection, he spoke with perfect calmness and ease of his approaching death, of his ideas of a future state, and of the perfect security he felt that his soul was safe. His natural disposition to examine into every thing, and to see all difficulties and objections, did not however forsake him. He 2 believed that his soul was safe, and he clearly saw the grounds in scripture on which to rest this belief; but he did not so distinctly see revealed what the state of existence was of separate spirits. O how earnestly does the enlightened soul desire to be perfectly satisfied respecting all future things, when it feels itself on the verge of eternity. Travers urged the joyful anticipation of St. Paul, that when absent from the body, he should be present with the Lord;' and, as the time approached nearer, Arthur could rest his faith on that anticipated presence. To be 'present with the Lord,' seemed an idea so full of joy, as gradually to overcome all darkness and all apprehension. When we had been about three weeks with our beloved patient, it became evident that his death was very near. So heavenly had been his conversation during that time,-so patiently had he endured suffering,-so feelingly grateful to all around him,-so gentle, yet so faithful in declaring religious truth to them, and so prepared did he appear to be for his Master's coming, that we too waited for it in attempted resignation, as what alone could satisfy him. One night I thought him much worse, so did Travers, and we both sat up with him. He seemed to suffer great uneasiness, and was very restless, his breathing high, and quick, and oppressed; and though not asleep, he seemed al most unconscious of our presence. Travers sat near, watching every motion, and every expression of uneasiness that passed over his still beautiful countenance; and with the utmost tenderness arranging his pillows, or adjusting his uneasy bed. I sat on the other side, attempting the same; and we interchanged looks of grief or apprehension, or together raised our eyes to heaven, for His presence to give that relief which our love sought in vain to do. At length he fell into an uneasy slumber, which gradually became more peaceful, till at last he slept. This continued for about an hour. He then awoke, and observing who were with him, he looked earnestly first at Travers, then at me, and holding out a hand to each, My two dearest friends on earth!' said he. For a few moments he was much moved. Travers, too, was almost overpowered, but at last said, repeating Arthur's words, 'On earth! yes; but even while with us, you love another Friend, with a love unlike-far, far above that love that you bear to us, a love which produces joy unspeakable, and full of glory.'' Arthur's countenance changed to an expression of calm joy, and looking earnestly at Tra vers, "Yes, my most beloved Travers, my eyes must soon close on you, but to open on him whom, having not seen, I love,-with whom I long to |