of his office with efficiency through the spring and summer

of 1848.

In the fall of that year the interests of the Bible Society demanded of him another tour through the South-western States. He left home with much reluctance, and under great depression of spirits, having, and expressing, a deep presentiment of evil. Yet with his usual vigour he prosecuted his work; during the months of October and November he travelled nearly four thousand miles, visiting the Tennessee, Memphis, and Mississippi Conferences, preaching eighteen sermons, and delivering nine addresses. He was subject to much inconvenience on some parts of his route, owing to the rainy weather and the bad condition of the roads. On one route he spent three days and three nights in a stage, travelling over roads almost impassable. The last night two of the wheels sunk up to the hub in the mire, and the coach was nearly overturned. There were nine grown persons and two children inside, who were obliged to get out and stand upon the ground, while the rain was pouring down upon them, till the driver had unharnessed one of the horses and ridden half a mile to obtain a gang of negroes to pry up the carriage. This occupied nearly two hours. Under such exposures his health began to fail during the latter part of November. But he persevered in his mission till the 24th of December, when he preached in the Presbyterian Church in Natchez. This was his last public discourse.

On the succeeding day he wrote a letter to his family in New-York. This letter is full of tenderness and affection. He tells them that he felt it would be wrong longer to withhold from them the fact that he was in a very feeble state of health. In addition to other diseases which had hung

about him, he had been subject to several severe attacks of asthma, involving sympathetically, if not organically, the action of the heart. His nightly rest was broken and disturbed, and he was reduced to a great degree of bodily weakness. He had purposed visiting the Louisiana Conference, but his health would permit him to proceed no farther. He now only thought of reaching his home, and had many misgivings whether he should ever accomplish that. The most expeditious and safe route homeward was by the way of the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers; and even this route was not at this time without its difficulties. The cholera was raging in New-Orleans with great violence, and every boat that came up numbered a catalogue of victims on the passage. Those who died by day were secretly carried on shore in the night, and roughly entombed in the bank of the river. Nor could the sick and dying expect much attention or care; and, indeed, the cold and damp state-rooms of the boats furnished but poor accommodations for the sick in any case.

With him, however, there seemed no alternative; and on the 29th of December he took passage on the steamboat Memphis for Cincinnati. The boat was six days on her passage; she was crowded with passengers, and many were sick and dying with the cholera. His sufferings on the voyage were greatly alleviated, and his mind comforted, by the kind attentions of a Christian brother, Mr. Elisha Payne, of Madison, Indiana. He also received medical advice and assistance from a Dr. Sale, who happened to be a passenger on the boat. It was indeed a gloomy passage, and he frequently expressed the apprehension that he would never live to reach his home. This was an object dear to his heart; and his highest earthly wish seemed to be that

he might die in the bosom of his family. However, he was calm and resigned; and, for the most part, retained his accustomed cheerfulness and buoyancy of spirit.

At length he reached Cincinnati; and, at the house of his devoted friends, brother and sister Burton, he found a welcome home. Ten years before he had been their pastor in the east; he had united them in the sacred bonds of matrimony; he had been their friend and counsellor in times of affliction and trial. Their hearts, as well as their house, were now open to receive him. Like ministering angels they hovered around him in his last earthly affliction. Sweet and yet mournful was the task of our brother and sister; they performed the last sad offices due to departing worth; they ministered to his last earthly want, listened with inexpressible sorrow to his last farewell, closed his dying eyes, and forsook him not till his dust had been gathered to its kindred dust. O, there are green spots upon our earth, where human affection and sympathy shine forth with heavenly lustre! Priceless is their value! It is grateful to record them. The Rev. Mr. Strickland, one of the agents of the American Bible Society, was also with him night and day; and a numerous circle of friends rejoiced in the opportunity to minister to him in his affliction.

His sufferings were great, but in the midst of them all he enjoyed perfect peace; and signal was his triumph, through grace, in the last conflict. When he found that the great object of earthly desire to see his family once more in the flesh and to die among his kindred-could not be realized, he only exclaimed, "The will of the Lord be done." On the Sabbath evening preceding his death, being asked if he realized strong faith in Christ, he replied,

"O yes, the Lord Jesus Christ is the strength of my heart, and my portion forever. I die in the faith of the gospel." On one occasion, when he was sitting up, brother Burton placed a large Bible to support his head, that he might breathe more easily. Observing the letters upon the back, he exclaimed, "Thou blessed book, lamp to my feet and light to my path; thou guide of my youth, directory of my manhood, and support of my declining years; how cheerless would this world be, were it not for thy divine revelations and Christian experience!" After his will had been signed, he said, "Thank God, one foot is in Jordan, and I shall soon cross over." When Bishop Morris reached the city, and hastened to the bedside of his dying friend, he said to him, "Thank God that I am permitted to see your face once more. I am not able to converse much, but I can still say, 'Glory to God." The bishop inquired if he had any message to send to his brethren of the New-York Conference. "Tell them," said he, "I die in Christ; I die in the hope of the gospel. Tell them I have a firm, unshaken confidence in the atoning sacrifice of our Lord Jesus Christ, as the foundation, and only foundation, of my hope of eternal life; and, relying upon that foundation, all before me is light, and joyful, and glorious." In him was most gloriously realized the sentiment of the great apostle: To live is Christ, but to die is gain. With a firm faith in his Redeemer, and an unclouded view of heaven, he passed in peace and triumph to his everlasting reward. The last words he uttered were on the occasion of Mr. Burton's children being presented to receive his dying blessing. Taking each by the hand, he said, "God bless the dear children, and make them holy."

Between nine and ten o'clock on the evening of the 9th

of January, surrounded by sympathizing, praying Christian friends, he expired. On the following Thursday his funeral was attended by a large concourse of people, embracing many of the clergy in Cincinnati and its vicinity. And, after an impressive sermon by Bishop Morris, his remains were deposited in the city cemetery; but subsequently removed to the Wesleyan Cemetery, where the Young Men's Bible Society of Cincinnati propose to erect a suitable monument to his memory. Subsequently, a funeral discourse was delivered by Bishop Morris before the NewYork Conference, and was requested for publication by that body. The preachers' meetings in Cincinnati and New-York, the Board of Managers of the Young Men's Bible Society of Cincinnati, and also that of the American Bible Society, and various other associations, passed resolutions expressive of their high estimate of his character and worth.

Few men have been more generally beloved within the sphere of their labours, and few have been more sincerely lamented in their death, than Dr. Levings. His manner was affable and winning; his heart was warm and generous; his mind, naturally fertile and lively, and stored with an inexhaustible fund of anecdote, coupled with a retentive and ready memory, a brilliant imagination, a striking aptness at comparison, and fine colloquial powers, made him a most delightful companion in social life. If these peculiarities of character, strongly marked in him, sometimes made him appear more light and jocose than was befitting the ministerial office, and especially to age and superior standing in it, there were at least redeeming considerations to be found in the artlessness and sincerity of his piety, and the sacred veneration in which he ever held