the president for assistance. Early in January, 1831, the Rev. Thomas Rogerson was sent to his relief; but, notwithstanding some temporary advantage afforded by seasonable rest, disease continued to gain ground, but so insidiously, and with so many intervals of apparent improvement, that his father and friends were held in suspense, hope alternating with fear, until Sunday, the 10th of July; on which day a messenger from Trowbridge arrived at Bath at the close of the evening service, with the startling intelligence, that he had ruptured a blood-vessel in the lungs while gently walking up stairs that afternoon; that the loss of blood and the consequent exhaustion were such as to leave no room to hope for his recovery; and that both he and his afflicted wife earnestly requested his father and brother to hasten immediately to Trowbridge. My mother being ill of a fever, and my father in a state of great exhaustion from the labours of the day, together with previous fatigue and loss of rest, he was compelled to defer his journey until the next day. The writer of this Memoir hastened to Trowbridge immediately. Early on Monday morning, Mr. E. followed, and rejoiced, on his arrival, to find my brother better than he expected: the hemorrhage had ceased, his mind was at peace, and he had strong confidence in God. After spending a day of great profit and mournful satisfaction with him, the state of Mrs. E.'s health obliged him to return to Bath at night.

On Wednesday evening, after spending some time in silent prayer, my brother, who seemed to have received some intimation of the time of his departure, said to his affectionate wife with a heavenly smile, "To-morrowThursday is my thanksgiving-day:* I shall die to-morrow, and spend my thanksgiving-day in heaven; but I believe my dear father will be permitted to come and see me first." To the Rev. John Newton, also, his highlyesteemed superintendent, who was seldom absent from him after the rupture of the blood-vessel, he said, " I shall die to-morrow, and my father will be with me."

About ten o'clock on Thursday morning, July 14th, his father arrived. The doctor met him on the stair-case, and said, "You are just in time, sir." On entering the chamber, he perceived that his son was dying. When his languid eye caught his beloved father's, his countenance beamed with gratitude and joy. He kissed him, and said,

* For some years he had been accustomed to observe Thursday as a thanksgiving-day, and to stir himself up like the Psalmist (Psalm ciii.) to a grateful remembrance and acknowledgment of God's mercies.

with a low voice, "I am going to Jesus. Father, pray." His afflicted wife, and Messrs. Newton and Rogerson were present. All knelt down, while, in compliance with his request, my father prayed three times and Mr. Newton twice. While the latter was at prayer, my brother was so filled with holy joy, that he shouted aloud, “Glory be to God." He afterwards whispered to his beloved wife, whose affectionate and assiduous attentions could not be surpassed, "Peace; happy." For about an hour all continued in solemn silence, momentarily expecting the departure of the happy spirit. During this time, he seemed to be engaged in intimate communion with God. After lying with his eyes closed for some time engaged in silent prayer, his countenance suddenly beamed with glory, as if heaven were opened to his view, and looking at his father, Mr. Newton, Mr. Rogerson, and his beloved wife, with inexpressible pleasure, and with an obvious desire to make them sensible of the glory opened out to his view, he faintly whispered, "It is Jesus!" then closed his eyes, which opened no more. His face assumed a heavenly aspect; all effort and agony ceased; and about half-past eleven o'clock in the morning, his happy spirit entered into rest, in the thirty-second year of his age. Heavenly glory seemed to fill the room; and the pallid countenance of even the lifeless clay still retained the expression of the unutterable joy which had filled the soul of the departing saint. On the following Thursday, the mortal remains were laid with those of his beloved brother Samuel, in the vault under Walcot chapel, Bath.

Mr. E. was much affected with this second bereavement. The Rev. W. Entwisle was, like his brother Samuel, a young man of more than ordinary promise: his ministry had been rendered exceedingly useful wherever it had been exercised, and especially at Stourbridge and the neighbourhood, where his death created a powerful sensation, and was deeply lamented by many to whom he had been the instrument of much spiritual good. A brief memoir of him from his father's pen may be found in the "Wesleyan Methodist Magazine" for 1832. To lose such a son in the midst of his usefulness was a great trial, the severity of which was increased by a complication of other domestic afflictions, and some painful occurrences in his circuit, that militated against the prosperity of that work which lay nearest his heart. But under all, his bearing was that of an eminently spiritual and devoted servant of the Lord Jesus Christ. His language was:-"This is a time of trouble; clouds and darkness are round about us: still the Lord reigns;

and this God is our God for ever and ever, and will be our guide even unto death. It is the Lord. I believe in Him, -his government, his grace; and though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.'

6

The Bath people were desirous that both Mr. Entwisle and his son should remain with them a third year, and pressed their request; but several considerations induced them to decline the invitation. It cost the Christian father, however, many a pang to leave this beautiful city, now endeared and consecrated as the final resting-place of all that was mortal of two beloved sons. Before he left, he placed two marble tablets with appropriate inscriptions in that part of Walcot chapel which was just above the vault in which they lay, to perpetuate their memory.

HAVING been elected representative of the Bath district, Mr. Entwisle was under the necessity of an early attendance at the Conference. It was a favourable circumstance that it was held at Bristol; the distance between the two cities being so short as to allow him frequent opportunities of visiting Mrs. E., who was slowly recovering from fever. His frequent journeys to and from home contributed to the improvement of his health, which had suffered from painful excitement and loss of rest; while the business of the Conference tended to relieve his mind, by withdrawing attention from the mournful objects by which it had long been occupied.

His next appointment was to Lambeth, one of his former scenes of labour, where he found in the Rev. John Storry an efficient and invaluable colleague. It was no small addition to his comfort, that a young lady, for whom he felt a great esteem and affection, had become the wife of his only surviving son; whose appointment to the Hinde-street circuit afforded the opportunity of frequent intercourse. The enlargement of his family circle, by this happy union, after such painful bereavements, he regarded as a peculiar mercy; and every visit to their house called forth new expressions of gratitude to God for this instance of his goodness. His widowed daughter-in-law, Mrs. W. Entwisle, had accompanied him to Lambeth, where she remain

ed until my mother's health was somewhat recruited. His brother-in-law, the Rev. Henry Moore, was at Deptford; his nephew, the Rev. Thomas Stanley, at Hinde-street; and his esteemed friends, the Rev. Messrs. G. Marsden and R. Watson at Queen-street and City-road: the frequent opportunities thus afforded for intercourse with beloved relatives and friends soothed and cheered his mind.

On the 11th of the following December, he records a gracious preservation from serious injury under "circumstances so extraordinary,” as he states in a note to his son, that he could not but think there must have been invisible agency in the case; adding, "but for the sense I have of my unworthiness I should apply to it, Heb. i. 14.” The following is the record in his journal :

"Dec. 12th.-On my return from Lambeth chapel last evening, I was graciously preserved in time of danger. When I crossed. China-row, a carriage was coming. Of this I was unconscious;-being deeply engaged in meditation and prayer, and the road being macadamised, I heard no sound. In a moment I fell forward on my face, (which my hat saved,) perhaps a yard or more, and rolled in the mud. I rose up, and to my surprise saw a four-wheeled carriage with some ladies in it, standing, the gentleman having alighted, apparently in great alarm, to inquire how I was hurt. I assured him I was not hurt, and proceeded on my way home. The outcry, arising from alarm in some persons near, brought others to the spot, amongst whom were some pious females who thought I had been run over by the carriage. I believe there was in this case angelic agency. For, 1. It was just as if some one, seeing my danger, and perceiving that I was insensible of it, had kindly pushed me forward so far, that though I lay all my length, even my feet were out of the way of the nearest wheel. 2. I felt nothing touch me to occasion the fall, nor do I know that my foot slipped. 3. Had I not fallen in a forward direction, I certainly should have been run 4. Though I was thrown so far on my face, and, being rheumatic, fell heavily, I fell so lightly, that I was not shaken, and felt no inconvenience, with the exception of a slight bruise in the ball of my right hand. All the evening and most of the night being awake through indisposition in another way, my heart glowed with gratitude to my gracious preserver. It is the Lord. I might have had my legs broken, or have been killed on the spot. O to grace how great a debtor !' O Lord, I present myself, my all to thee! O accept me for Jesu's sake.”

over.

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Those who are disposed to shut God out of the providential government of his own world, and to confine his presence and operations to some remote province of his dominions, may regard this occurrence as a fortunate escape'— a mere accident,'-and Mr. E.'s view of it as an instance of superstitious weakness and infirmity; but those who admit the providential government of God, and believe the express declarations of his word, especially such as the following:- "Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father:"- “But the very hairs of your head are all numbered:' "There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling; for he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways; they shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone:". "Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation?" and "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints;"-will regard his " acknowledgment of God," in a case in which life might have been suddenly destroyed, as an exercise of that true "wisdom which cometh down from above."

66

Mrs. Entwisle's affliction continuing through the winter, Mr. E.'s rest was much broken, his health and spirits were seriously affected, and he found it difficult to discharge his public duties in a way satisfactory to his own mind. The following quotation refers to these trials.

66

“Jan. 28th, 1832.-My feelings are indescribable and unaccountable. I labour under constant depression in my spirits. My soul prospers: I am enabled to live in the spirit of devotion, and under a sense of the Divine favour ; my desire to do good increases; and my heart is more and more in the work of God; still I am greatly weighed down. Deep sighs are frequent and involuntary. Lord, why am I thus? I think it is owing in a great measure to the affliction of my dear wife and the death of my children. For a long time last year, I had little regular rest; and now, I often awake in the night, and thoughts of past events rush on me like a flood. Various occurrences combine to oppress my mind. Every pleasing little child I see produces associations that are painful. John in his playful infancy and boyhood, and the rest of my children, appear before me. Then their deaths are brought before me-all of them at once sometimes. The late removal of Samuel and William, the present delicate state of Joseph, the distance of Mary from me, the sufferings of my dear wife from asthma, now