In the death of this excellent Christian and laborious Missionary, the Brethren of the Serampore Mission are called to mourn over one of the most afflictive dispensations with which they have ever been exercised. Mr. Ward

had been associated with them in their various and successful labours for near

ly twenty-four years; therefore his removal by death almost without warning must have occasioned them a poignancy of grief, which, although chastened by the supports of the gospel and a humble acquiescence in the decision of Infinite Wisdom, cannot soon be alleviated. Since his return from Europe, his health had been in general pretty good, but latterly the complaint with which he was so much afflicted before his departure for Europe, appeared to be returning upon him; but by proper attendance to diet, exercise, &c. his health was so much preserved as to give reason to hope his life might be spared for many years. On the Sabbath preceding his death, he was engaged in the performance of his ministerial duties at Calcutta, and preached in the evening there from "Lead us not into temptation" in so searching a manner as to attract particular notice. He also attended the Monthly PrayerMeeting held on Monday evening at the Lall Bazar Chapel, after having spent the day in visiting, for the last time, the flock he so much loved. Tuesday morning, March 4th, he returned to Serampore in the boat with Mrs. Marshman. On the way he read to her a number of extracts from Brainerd, making such remarks occasionally as sufficiently evidenced the state of his mind. He appeared in good health the whole of that day, as well as on Wednesday, when in the evening he preached in the Mission Chapel at Serampore the weekly lecture, intended chiefly for the youth there for education, from Mark xvi. 16. "He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, and he that believeth not shall be damned." No one suspected that this was the last message he had to deliver in his Great Master's name; but the close and poignant manner in which he addressed them, seemed to excite unusual attention. It was particularly recollected that in the course of his sermon, while exhibiting Christ as the

only Saviour, he repeated the following

verse:

The best obedience of my bands

Dares not appear before thy throne;
But faith can answer thy demands,
By pleading what my Lord has done-

and to impress it more firmly on his audience, he repeated the verse a sec. ond time. The earnest affection with which he prayed for the salvation of his own children in his last prayer, was particularly remarked. About 5 o'clock on the morning of Thursday, he felt himself affected with a bowel complaint, which caused him to return to his bed for an hour, instead of riding out according to his custom. He went into the printing office at about 10 o'clock, and among various letters on business, wrote to the Missionaries at Cuttack; the following extract from which was sent to his afflicted family in a letter from Mrs. Peggs, dated 14th March, the day after they had received the melancholy tidings of his removal. "In his last note to us, dated March 6th, he says, 'How do you feel in your desires after the Holy Spirit? We can have no hope of success but as we are brought to a believing dependence upon his influences, and an earnest solicitude to obtain them. O how I should like to be among you, though only for one hour, to sing a hymn with my dear sisters and brethren Peggs and Bamp

ton.

What hymn should we choose, 'Jesus with all thy saints above?" or, Jesus, I love thy charming name?' Mr. P. adds, "We see by this note what a happy frame of mind he was in just before he was taken ill." He had indeed been really ill of the Cholera many hours before he wrote the note, although he was scarcely aware of it. Mr. Ward continued in his labours in the printing office till past 12. After this he began a letter to the Rotterdam Bible Society, which was found unfinished on his desk, after his death, from which it appeared that before he had finished the second line, he had been constrained to desist, and to retire to his own room. During the rest of the day and the succeeding night, he felt inclined to doze, and sometimes considerable hopes were entertained of his recovery: but on Friday at 12 o'clock his pulse declined so as to take away all hope; and about

5 o'clock in the afternoon, he ceased to breathe, in so imperceptible à manner, that for some moments his afflicted brethren and sisters, assembled around him, were scarcely aware that his happy spirit had left its tenement of clay. Thus in the 54th year of his age, and the 24th of his missionary labours at Serampore, departed one of the most faithful, disinterested and arduous labourers in the vineyard of his Glorious Redeemer, that India had ever seen. To enlarge on his character here would be quite superfluous; it is too well known to those who enjoyed the happiness of his acquaintance, for words to add any thing to the impression it has left on the mind. Numerous friends from Serampore, Barrackpore, and Calcutta attended the funeral, which took place on Saturday evening!

Dr. Carey addressed the congregation at the grave, and Dr. Marshman concluded in prayer.

On

The next Lord's day week, the 16th March, Dr. Carey preached a funeral sermon at the Lall Bazar Chapel. The place was crowded to excess, which amply testified that "the memory of the just is blessed," the text chosen by the venerable preacher. Wednesday evening the 19th Dr. Marshman preached a funeral sermon in the Mission Chapel, Serampore, which was numerously attended; and on the Lord's day following Dr. M. preached a funeral sermon also at the Union Chapel; and we understand that this sermon, with some particulars respecting the deceased, will be shortly published. [Asiatic Obs.

Lines on the Death of a Missionary.

Now let our drooping hearts revive,
And all our tears be dry:
Why should those eyes be drown'd in
Which view a Saviour nigh? [grief,
What tho' the arm of conq'ring death,
Does God own house invade;
What tho' the prophet and the priest,
Be number'd with the dead?
Tho' earthly shepherds dwell in dust,
The aged and the young;
The watchful eye in darkness, clos'd,
And mute th' instructive tongue;—
Th' eternal Shepherd still survives,
New comfort to impart;

His eye still guides us, and his voice
Still animates our heart.

Lo! I am with you,' saith the Lord,
My church shall safe abide ;
For I will ne'er forsake my own,
Whose souls in me confide.'

.

Thro' every scene of life and death, This promise is our trust;

And this shall be our children's song, When we are cold in dust.

¡ DODDRIDGE.

On Recovery from Sickness. Great God, thy mercy I'll adore,

While life and breath I have; And sing the honours of that power, That sav'd me from the grave.

When rack'd with pain upon my bed,

And all my strength was gone; Thou my physician wast, and aid, And thou my help alone.

To thee, my grateful heart I'll raise, For thy restoring love;

Help me to praise thee all my days, And dwell with thee above.

Every thing around us calls us to serious reflection. The face of nature is changed. The forest has put off its green attire, and is now dressed in its wintry russet. The leaves are fallen, and the year is closed. Every thing testifies the rapid march of time. "How wise in man to give it then a tongue." Methinks it does speak. Listen then to its gentle accents. We all do fade as doth the leaf.'-Our days are

as

an hand-breadth, and our years as nothing. There is hope of a tree if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will not cease. Though the root thereof wax old in the earth, and the stock thereof die in the ground, yet through the scent of waters it will bud, and bring forth boughs as a plant. But man dieth and wasteth away; yea, man giveth up the ghost, and where is he? As the waters fail from the sea, and the flood decayeth and drieth up, so man lieth down and riseth not; till the heavens be no more they shall not awake, nor be raised out of their sleep."

Many who at the commencement of the last year appeared

strong and vigorous, and who seemed to promise much usefulness to the church and to the world, have been called to render up their final account to God, the Judge of all. Their mouldering ashes seem to admonish us, to be also ready. The pang we felt at the parting stroke, seems to have ceased throbbing, and time is spreading its sweet emolient to ease the sorrows of friendship.

Now look forward, and see the busy ranks of men all pushing forward, eager to enter upon the pursuits of the new year; few perhaps reflecting that it is already decreed, that this year they should die! This awful memento would damp the ardour of their spirits, and chill their warmest expectations. The intrusive thought is an unwelcome visitor. Go thy way for this time, and when I have a convenient season 1 will call for thee, responds from a thousand hearts.

But how shall we spend the passing moments so as not to be pained in the review? Shall we spend the present time in mirth and folly, regardless of the future? Shall we feel no solicitude