nt about continually doing good.

There was no attempt to argue with death, and ask for a respite to
prepare for the journey through the valley of the shadow of death to
the golden shore beyond. We cannot do better here than lay before the
reader the following communication written by their son to their former
pastor, the Rev. George O. Phelps, of Utica, N.Y. It is a brief
narrative of their last hours on earth, which were a triumphant ending
to a long life of devotion to their Master:

NEW YORK CITY, November 15, 1886.

Your kind letter was duly received and contents noted. At your
request, I will endeavor to give you a brief account of the
"goings" of my departed parents. In a spirit of humility I desire
to avoid all expressions of fulsomeness when speaking of their
lives and last moments, though it might be said that those who were
at the death-bed of either, and saw them in their last hours, would
have been willing to have left all to exchange places with them. I
would say, in the words of one of old, "Let me die the death of the
righteous, and let my end be like theirs." As they lived so they
died! As father lay down, so he never moved until he was carried
into the arms of Jesus.

All through his two days' sickness, as we put our ears to his lips,
we could hear him earnestly praying for Allen Street Church, her
minister and people, and for his family. Our mother would
frequently speak to him, saying:

"Just one word, papa!"

But he would only shake his head, without uttering a word.

The history of his going was as follows:

On Tuesday, October 19th, father left the office for the last time.
When Wednesday morning, October 20th, dawned, he complained of a
pain in his side, remarking that he "did not think he would go to
the office before noon." He did not go at all.

I went to the house in the evening, to find that the doctor had been
called _twice_, and that father had pleurisy. We passed through the
night watching and hoping for favorable changes; but, unfortunately,
the next (Thursday) morning, October 21st, pneumonia set in, and the
case became complicated. Already very weak, he grew more feeble
every hour. He had done his part of this life's work, and seemed
conscious that the Universal Master was about to finish the mansion
into which his servant was fully prepared to enter. A