"When I arrived at the residence of our late friend, Mr. Daniel Murray, I found him apparently dying. He had arranged all his affairs, talked in the most cheerful, consoling manner to his family and friends, and sent messages of affectionate regard to those who were absent. He received me with great animation, and a smile that showed he was filled with joy and peace. He expressed his thankfulness at my visit, spoke of his many and great comforts, the perfect peace and happiness he felt, and the sure hope which enabled him to welcome death, that he might be with his Saviour. He declared that it was to him alone he looked with this confident hope; that he was himself unworthy, and trusted entirely to the merits of his Redeemer. Hours were passed in conversations like these.

Though weak, he seemed to gather strength from the exercise of holy thoughts and affections. 'Psalms and hymns, and spiritual Songs,' and passages of Scripture, were continually, by his desire, read and repeated to him; and his countenance, lighted up by emotions they had awakened, showed the fulness of joy which his lips labored to express. He wished all his domestics and laborers, and big neighbors and acquaintances to be present, each of whom was called to receive an affectionate farewell, with kind and solemn words of suitable admonition and encouragement.

"These exertions, he said, did not weary or distress him, and he wished, in the short time he had left, to say and do everything in his power that might be useful. At one time he requested, in our prayers with him, that we should use the prayers for the dying, after one of which he told me he had hoped that he should have departed while we were using that prayer. He requested some of the psalms and hymns of the prayer-book to be read to him. These all seemed to give him the greatest delight, but he was particularly excited by the one beginning, 'How firm a foundation,' etc.

"At one time some apparent revival gave hopes of his restoration to others, but not to himself. He spoke of his death as sure and certain; and though willing to submit to a recovery, it was manifest that he neither expected nor desired it. He was right in his opinion-- these hopes disappeared. His strength declined very gradually, till these interesting communications with him could no longer be continued; but the peace and joy of his soul, when they ceased to be uttered by his lips, were radiant in his countenance to the last. A few minutes before he expired, he was told his departure was near, and asked if he still felt the hopes and happiness he had expressed. He expressed his assent by a smile and the pressure of his hand, and soon these and all other indications of life gently and almost imperceptibly disappeared.''