s as were not covered by my will. I also gave to each the advice
that my experience had shown me he or she needed. Then came another
wave of remorse and regret, and again an intense longing to pray; but
along with the thought of sins and neglected duties came also the
memory of the honest efforts I had made to obey my conscience, and
these were like rifts of sunshine during a storm. These thoughts, and
the blessed promises of religion I had so often preached in the
churches of my diocese, were an indescribable comfort, and saved me
from the depths of blank despair. Finally my breathing became
laboured, I had sharp spasms of pain, and my pulse almost stopped. I
felt that I was dying, and my sight grew dim. The crisis and climax of
life were at hand. 'Oh!' I thought, with the philosophers and sages,
'is it to this end I lived? The flower appears, briefly blooms amid
troublous toil, and is gone; my body returns to its primordial dust,
and my works are buried in oblivion. The paths of life and glory lead
but to the grave.' My soul was filled with conflicting thoughts, and
for a moment even my faith seemed at a low ebb. I could hear my
children's stifled sobs, and my darling wife shed silent tears. The
thought of parting from them gave me the bitterest wrench. With my
fleeting breath I gasped these words, 'That mercy I showed others, that
show thou me.' The darkened room grew darker, and after that I died.
In my sleep I seemed to dream. All about were refined and heavenly
flowers, while the most delightful sounds and perfumes filled the air.
Gradually the vision became more distinct, and I experienced an
indescribable feeling of peace and repose. I passed through fields and
scenes I had never seen before, while every place was filled with an
all-pervading light. Sometimes I seemed to be miles in air; countless
suns and their planets shone, and dazzled my eyes, while no
bird-of-paradise was as happy or free as I. Gradually it came to me
that I was awake, and that it was no dream. Then I remembered my last
moments, and perceived that I had died. Death had brought freedom, my
work in the flesh was ended, I was indeed alive.

"'O Death, where is thy sting? O Grave, where is thy victory?' In my
dying moments I had forgotten what I had so often preached--'Thou fool,
that which thou sowest is not quickened except it die.' In a moment my
life lay before me like a valley or an open page. All along its paths
and