can see him as he is? "Now are we the sons of God, and it doth not appear what we shall be; but we know that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is."1 Heaven will burst in full glory on the astonished spirit of the departed saint, and, awful thought, hell will open on the appalled soul of the hardened sinner, whatever their previous feelings may have been. The tenor of the life, and not the emotions of the death of any man, must form our ground of hope as to his destiny in another world.

The state of Mr. Walker, just before he died, is most satisfactorily evidenced by Lord Dartmouth, in a letter to their mutual friend, Mr. Rawlings.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

Blackheath, July 17, 1761.

Dear Mr. Walker is still alive, but so near the confines of the grave, that the only wish we have left is for his speedy release; the extreme weakness to which he is reduced, so as to be scarce able to speak, must be a state of great suffering, but it excites in him no murmur or complaint, nor the most distant expression of impatience. His chief concern while he had any strength left, was that he might not dishonour his master in the last stages of his disorder, by any fretfulness or impatience, whatever he might have to undergo: his prayer has been heard, and he is now silent and submissive, so that it is scarcely to be known from himself that he is not perfectly at ease. He opens not his mouth, but to utter some useful

11 John, iii. 2.

admonition and advice to those about him, or to declare his sense of the loving-kindness of the Lord, and his stedfast confidence in God his Saviour. "I know," said he to me yesterday, "that when this earthly tabernacle shall be dissolved, I shall have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."

However nature must feel the loss of such a friend, yet the grief which it excites, is mixed with a joyful satisfaction and complacency, which forbids the most selfish heart to wish for his return; no, my dear friend, he shall not come back to us,-may we be happy enough to go to him. He has more than once expressed his delight in the prospect of finding many of his dear Truro friends in those blessed regions to which he is going, and of seeing others come after him to the same happy place. That you will be among them I cannot have any doubt, and I trust also that I shall meet you there, if I never see your face on earth.

I am deeply indebted to you, more deeply than I can express, for all your late repeated favours. The copies which you allow me to keep I admire from my heart. I hope they will be useful to me. Methinks I am glad that dear Mr. W. is not in a condition to hear the particulars of poor -'s death. How they would have pained his loving heart. His example is indeed an awful warning to all, who through fear of men, are ashamed of Christ and of his word, in this adulterous and sinful generation; the doom of such is but too plainly declared. I think every thing of Mr. Haweis that you can wish: he seems to me, to grow in humility, which, as in all, so I take it more

particularly in him, is to be looked upon as the only foundation of all other graces. His zeal is lively and I hope prudent, and his success, thank God, proportionable. Mr. Burnet is with us now, but having been myself from home, I have as yet conversed but little with him; I know the opinion that my dear friend Mr. Venn has of him.

I trust a lively and grateful sense of the great blessing that has been bestowed upon Truro, will be fixed upon the hearts of those who have been partakers of it, and that the want of their pastor and father, will keep them watchful and humble. He has often thankfully rejoiced in reflecting, that they have been brought on in such a way, as if they continue in it, the devil himself shall never prevail against them.

*

Mr. Jane and Mr. Burnet send love to you; accept the same from, dear Sir,

Your obedient and affectionate servant,

D.

Saturday, 18. I have just received the sermons on the law. Mr. Walker appears to-day to be at the last extremity, he will hardly live till to-morrow. Happy release.

Sunday, July 19, 1761, the morning after his noble friend's last postscript was written, Mr. Walker's happy spirit passed with a gentle sigh from the sabbath on earth to that in heaven. A letter from Mr. Burnet to Mr. Rawlings, of St. Columbe, thus describes his peaceful end.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

Blackheath, July 20, 1761.

Mr. Walker is no longer an inhabitant of this world: yesterday, at a quarter past nine in the morning, he left a poor sickly body, and joined the society of heaven. His death was like his behaviour in sickness-without a groan: I was not present; Mr. Jane and Mrs. Randall had withdrawn for a moment, and the next moment, word was brought that he was gone. We cannot judge distinctly how, or in what manner, he was engaged previous to his dissolution; he seemed to be in prayer, and was heard to say "Lord Jesus:" but for a day and night before, at times, his faculties were much benumbed; and the testimonies already given to his faith and love were sufficient, abundantly. I refer you to the two letters I have wrote to Mr. Conon on this head; and earnestly pray the Lord to bless those awful providences to your soul and mine. Remember what he has said to me more than once, "why are you sorry, &c. I go to heaven, Christ my Lord died;" and Christ, my dear friend, will speedily return again. I pray you be a comforter to those with you, who may be ready too much to grieve as those who have no hope; especially to dear Miss Tregenna. I saw your last to Mr. Pearson, and as I have wrote to Mr. Conon, you have no reason to question my love.

I am unfeignedly yours,

GEORGE BURNET.

T

Mr. Jane desires his affectionate regards to him and all friends. I go for Oxford and Huddersfield this day.

According to his own desire that he might be buried in whatever parish he died, the remains of Mr. Walker were interred in the churchyard at Lewisham. He had been removed to a lodging near the house of Lord Dartmouth, a few weeks before his death, where he expired amidst the affectionate attentions and sympathy of his friends, and to the inexpressible sorrow of all who had partaken of his counsel, and profited by his ministry. He was only in the forty-eighth year of his age.

The whole history of the church affords not a more delightful instance of a wise, self-denying, and laborious parish priest. In public and in private, he filled without a visible hiatus, the entire circumference of his circle of duty, and left for posterity, as it is hoped this narrative has proved, a model for the imitation of all parochial ministers, allowing, of course, for variations in peculiar circumstances and times. What impression he made on the minds of those pious men he visited, may be gathered from a letter of the excellent Hervey, after he had been at Weston Flavel. “I was lately favoured at Weston with a visit from the Rev. Mr. Walker of Truro, who is indeed a most excellent man, and seems well to deserve the character he bears. There is something in him very engaging, and very venerable. During our conversation, I felt a kind of reverential awe on my mind, blended with more than fraternal affection. How old is he?