time his health continued to improve until he was able to perform one short service in a day.

During this period of the suspension of his labours, his congregation manifested great sympathy for him, were satisfied with the little service that he could render, and waited patiently for his full recovery. But in the midst of this harmonious state of feeling, a circumstance occurred which produced very serious disquietude, and threatened, at one time, to rend the parish asunder. In October, 1780, a man calling himself John Watkins, came into his parish, and began to preach in its extremities without his knowledge. He professed to have had the charge of a large congregation in England; to have subjected himself to great sacrifices from having been a vigorous defender of the American cause; and to have fled from his country for the sake of escaping political persecution. He made great pretensions to piety, called himself a disciple of Whitefield, and expressed the deepest interest in the spiritual welfare of the congregation, especially in view of their being then deprived of the regular services of a Pastor. He brought no credentials with him from England, but he accounted for the omission from the alleged fact that he was obliged to make his escape in extreme haste, and had no time to get ready for the voyage. But his high pretensions to piety and patriotism were accepted in place of his credentials, and he was invited to supply Mr. Lathrop's pulpit a single Sabbath. As they were dependent upon such supplies as they could secure, the parish now engaged him to preach for a number of Sabbaths; this he did to the satisfaction of a portion of the people, while the more discerning part set him down at once as a fanatic or an impostor. Meanwhile he appointed many week-day meetings in different parts of the parish, rarely consulted the Pastor in respect to any of his movements, and laboured, and not without some success, to disaffect the minds of his people towards him. After he had preached seven Sabbaths, including a Thanksgiving Day, his services had become so manifestly distasteful to the mass of the congregation that he abruptly left the pulpit, and set up a private meeting, on which a small number attended for a short time. With this meeting terminated his inglorious career at West Springfield. But the effect of his false and fanatical teaching survived the period of his sojourn there. He had reviled the regular ministry; had maintained that saints know infallibly each other's hearts, and all whom they cannot fellowship are unre

generate; that the church ought to admit none to communion but those whom she certainly knows to be regenerate; and that the Scriptures, besides a literal, have also a mystical or spiritual sense, which none but saints understand, and which is communicated to them immediately by the Spirit of God. A few of the members, who had imbibed these notions, withdrew from the church; but, being treated with great kindness, nearly all of them returned at no distant period, and harmony was restored. Mr. Lathrop's health had meanwhile so far improved that he was able to resume his accustomed labours. About this time he preached two sermons on the works of false teachers, entitled, "Wolves in Sheep's Clothing," which were suggested by his bitter experience in connection with Watkins; and these sermons were printed, and have passed through some twelve editions. One edition was published in Edinburgh, through the instrumentality of Dr. Erskine, and the work was highly commended in some of the British periodicals.

In 1791, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the college at which he had graduated. In recording this fact, he adds:-"This I valued as a token of respect from my literary friends; but it added nothing to the merit of the recipient." In 1811, the same degree was conferred upon him by Harvard University. In 1792, he was elected a Fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. In 1793, he was elected Professor of Divinity in Yale College; but though there were many considerations that might reasonably enough have influenced him in favour of an acceptance of the appointment, he nevertheless decided against sundering the tie that bound him to his people.

Dr. Lathrop pursued the even tenor of his way, supplying regularly his own pulpit, discharging his pastoral duties with great fidelity, and often going abroad to assist at ordinations, and in the settlement of ecclesiastical difficulties, until the last Sabbath in March, 1818, the day which completed the sixty-second year from the commencement of his labours as a candidate. In consequence of the increasing infirmities of age, and especially of the great imperfection of his sight, he now made known his purpose to withdraw from the active duties of the ministry, and requested the congregation to make other provision for the supply of the pulpit. On this occasion, he delivered a sort of Valedictory Discourse, expressive of his affectionate regard, and full

of seasonable counsels and cautions. Though he was unable, from this time, to read even the productions of his own pen, he continued, for several months, to write about one sermon a week; which was read from the pulpit by his son; and he used to say that he thought his congregation were rather gainers by his blindness, as his son had a much better delivery than ever he had. Though he had never cultivated the habit of extemporaneous speaking, even at his occasional lectures in the outskirts of his parish, the loss of his vision now led him to try his powers sometimes in this way, and the result was always most satisfactory to his hearers.

On the 25th of August, 1819, the sixty-third anniversary of his own ordination, he attended the ordination of his colleague. The Council, in making the appointments for the day, had urgently requested him to take part in the service; but on account of the great uncertainty of his health, he persistently declined. The next morning, however—and a bright and beautiful morning it was-as he was on his way to the church to attend the ordination services, it was suggested to him that it would greatly gratify the audience if he would offer one of the prayers, and as he seemed rather unusually vigorous, perhaps he might be willing to make the effort. He readily consented to the proposal; and the result of a brief consultation among some of the members of the Council, after they were seated in the pulpit, was that the introductory prayer, or prayer before the sermon, was assigned to him. That prayer he offered, and the universal verdict of the hearers was that it was one of the most comprehensive, appropriate, and impressive devotional exercises to which they had ever listened.

A few days after he had performed this service, he was attacked by an alarming form of disease, (a comatose affection,) to which he had before been occasionally subject, and from which there seemed now to be little hope of his recovery. But after remaining insensible for about two days, he was suddenly restored to consciousness, and greeted his anxious friends who were watching at his bedside, as if he had actually come back from a visit to the invisible world. He began immediately to gather strength, and after a few days, was in the enjoyment of his accustomed health. He seemed to regard his recovery almost in the light of a miracle.

From this time there was a perceptible waning of his great intellect, and his memory especially would often be at fault, so that his sentences

would sometimes be left unfinished, and the fine thought which he had in his mind would be lost in the utterance. He, however, continued to attend public worship, and occasionally took part in the devotional service until about two months before his death. His last public exercise was a prayer at a funeral in a case of uncommon affliction; and he could not have uttered himself more appropriately, or fluently, or fervently, at any period of his life.

When I look

On the Sabbath next succeeding the 25th of August, 1820, (the sixty-fourth anniversary of his ordination,) he attended public worship, and heard a discourse on the responsibilities of a Christian minister. The train of thought affected him deeply, and led him, as he afterwards remarked, to a fresh review of his own ministry. To a friend, with whom he returned from church, he made substantially the following remarks:-"I have been a steward for a long time, and shall have a large account to render. I often think of it. back upon my ministry, I find great cause for humility. I have been an unprofitable servant, and my only hope is in the glorious Redeemer. If I do not come short at last, it will be not on account of any worthiness in me, but on account of the all-sufficiency of Christ. I think I can say with another, that, if I ever arrive at that blessed world, I shall have had so much forgiven me, that I will sing the praises of redeeming love in as loud strains as any saint or angel there."

The last day of October, which was his eighty-ninth birth-day, he observed as a day of solemn recollection and self-examination. He remarked to a friend in the course of the day, that he had been reviewing his life, and he found it had been crowded with blessings. He then said, with a profusion of tears, that it overwhelmed him. "I have endeavoured," he added, "to exercise some degree of gratitude, particularly for the blessings of the past year, but I have not yet asked God to add to my life another year, and have not determined that it is my duty to make such a request."

In the early part of December, it became apparent both to himself and his friends, that the time of his departure was at hand; but he spake of it with solemnity indeed, but without the semblance of agitation or apparent anxiety. He would not say that he had the full assurance of faith, but he often remarked that his confidence in the Saviour was so strong that he was not afraid to die. A few days before his death, one of his friends remarked to him that it must be a

comfort to him to reflect that he had lived so useful a life. "Oh no," said he, "I find little consolation from anything which I have done. I believe I have endeavoured to be diligent in my profession, but every step of my course has been marked by imperfections. I have consolation, I trust, in the prospect of death, but it is all derived from the hope which I have built on the atonement of my Redeemer." There was a simplicity, a naturalness in all his expressions, that showed the operation of a well-established principle of Divine grace. To the last, his demonstrations were characterized by the dignity and courtesy of the gentleman, and the generous sensibilities of the friend, not less than the graces of the true Christian. On the day preceding his death, a neighbouring minister, who had called to take his final leave of him, expressed the hope that he had the needed consolation in the prospect of death; to which he replied, with emphasis, "Yes, I have." Shortly after this, he became apparently insensible, and subsequently gave no sign of consciousness, unless it were by fixing himself in an attitude of devotion for a few moments while a prayer was offered at his bedside. He died on Sabbath morning, the 31st of December, 1820, having lived eighty-nine years and two months. His funeral was attended by a large concourse, and with every demonstration of the most profound respect, on Wednesday, the 3d of January, 1821.

Dr. Lathrop had the privilege of witnessing several interesting revivals of religion under his ministry, the most extensive of which was in the years 1815 and '16. Though he was now burdened by the infirmities of age, the deep interest he took in the passing scene seemed to give him new life, and he laboured, in season and out of season, with a zeal and energy worthy of a young man.

Dr. Lathrop had a high reputation as a theological teacher. He fitted about twenty young men for the ministry at different periods, among whom was Jesse Appleton, who afterwards became President of Bowdoin College, and one of the brightest lights of the New England Pulpit.

As an author of Sermons, Dr. Lathrop is one of the most voluminous and respectable which the country can boast. Six volumes were published during his life, though the last is made up of occasional sermons, nearly all of which had been printed before in pamphlet form. Shortly after his death, a seventh volume was published, with a brief memoir of his life, written chiefly by himself. The first volume in