Wor. I hope you will let us see a copy of the hymn that was sung on that occasion.

Loveg. O Sir! you must not ask to see my poor poetry.

Mr. Sprightly. As far as the hymn was sung, I have a copy of it.

Wor. Then I beg we may hear it.

Mr. Sprightly then repeats the hymn.

If ever on a mortal Bier

Were dropt the tears of grief sincere ;
Pity, dear Lord, th' assembled throng,
To whom such pangs of grief belong.

How bright was that celestial flame,
When shining through this mortal frame!
Darken'd by death it shines no more;
We own thy justice, and adore.

Neglectful of this gift from God,
Our sinful deeds deserv'd the rod:
Still with submission would we say,
"Tis God that gives, and takes away.

Yet hear the penitential prayer;
With thy forbearing grace appear:
O lift our drooping spirits up,
And yet revive our dying hope!

Let pity, drest in tender love,
Look down in mercy from above;
No hand but thine can e'er restore,
The deepest loss we can deplore.

Once our enraptur'd tongues could tell,
The tidings he proclaims so well,
Tidings through his atoning blood,
That brought our sinful souls to God.

How many a sinner lives to praise
The wonders of redeeming grace;
While his dear warning, weeping voice,
Won them to seek eternal joys.

Ye wounded souls o'erwhelm'd with grief,
That seek the balm which brings relief,
Alas! those lips forever cease,

To preach his grace, that seals your peace.

[Mr. Sprightly then adds.] And it was in attempting to sing the last stanza, that all were so affected that they could not sing any more.

Wor. But I hope Sir, you will give us the rest of your hymn.

Loveg. Sir, there were but two stanzas more, and I cannot recollect them.

Wor. Well Sir, I hope you will let us see the whole of your hymn on another day. But how did you get through the funeral sermon on the Sunday?

Loveg. O Sir! the Church yard was crowded an hour before the Church doors were opened; and I was actually obliged to get in at the window, behind the pulpit and reading desk, to perform my office, while I was under the necessity of hiring Mr. Anything, to read the prayers, as I found preaching the sermon would be quite enough for me.

Wor. What was your subject?

Loveg. "Help, Lord, for the godly man ceaseth, for the faithful fail from among the children of men*.” And when I had to give the outlines of his character, as a truly godly man, I was frequently interrupted at the consideration, that so many excellencies were completely lost to us, while the body which possessed them, was buried out of our sight; and while the remembrance of them, was all that was left for us to improve, that we might follow him, as he followed Christ; and that it was an awful judgment, when such godly men were taken from us, as a deprivation of the greatest blessing we could enjoy.

Wor. Did you say much concerning the astonishing change that had been wrought upon him?

Loveg. Being myself much concerned in that event, my remarks on that subject were rather general, than particular. All the Parish who had seen him in both states, had a much stronger exemplification of the power of divine grace on the human heart, than any words of mine could have illustrated. But my principal aim was, (as far as I could aim at any

* Psalm xik

thing, through the overflowings of my affection,) to excite the people to cry earnestly to the Lord, for his help, who alone could appear for them as a congregation, under such a loss; and who had grace and power enough to create, and send forth a thousand like him, whenever he might choose.

Wor. I suppose you quoted much of what he said in his dying moments, as we generally receive all such expressions as being of the most solemn importance.

Bri. [To Mr. Lovegood.] As the duty at Brookfield prevented my being with him during the last days of his life, I should be thankful if you would tell me what those expressions were, especially such of them as you introduced into the funeral sermon.

Wor. I hope you mentioned the interview we had with him, about three days before his death; when we had our apprehensions, that his dissolution was near at hand.

Bri. O Sir! let me hear it.

Loveg. Why Sir, after uttering many delightful things, though almost breathless, and ready to faint away into the arms of death, I cannot express with what rapture he uttered the following lines!

The goodly land I see,
With peace and plenty blest,

The land of sacred liberty and endless rest:
There milk and honey flow,

There oil and wine abound,

And trees of life for ever grow
With mercy crown'd.

While he thus lay panting for breath, he paused for