The severe attack of inflammation in 1817 had materially weakened his constitution, and rendered it susceptible of injury from the slightest causes.

About the middle of August he was attacked with fever, and confined for a week to his room. It seems that he had a suspicion, from the beginning of this illness, that his life was in danger. This he indicated in several ways, and even said so; but his desire not to wound the feelings of his family would not allow him to allude to it in strong terms. He recovered, however, so as to be able to take exercise; and went up to Edinburgh to meet his eldest daughter, on her arrival from England. But the fever soon returned, accompanied with inflammation. He remained in Edinburgh, and every exertion of medical skill was made to afford him relief. On Monday, the 30th of August, he was considered materially better, and great hopes were entertained of his recovery: but these appearances were only flattering and delusive; for, on the following morning, a rapid change for the worse took place, so great indeed, that it affected his countenance, and gave to his medical attendants a certain indication of his danger, immediately on their entering the room. All hope of life was now taken away. Death gave too many signs of his approach to leave a doubt upon the mind that his end was near. The dying saint was himself fully aware of it. Early on Tuesday morning, the last day he spent on earth, at the close of which he entered heaven, several of the members of his family being assembled round his bed, he broke silence by this short aspiration-" Let the bright shining of thy countenance appear." This he repeated several times; and when his daughter expressed her confidence that his prayer would be answered, he added with peculiar emphasis, "O yes!" He was disposed to converse, but was restrained by the express and repeated request of the physicians; on this account, but few of the family were allowed to see him. It was evident that his thoughts were much engaged about eternal things; his prospects of future felicity were unclouded, and his mind was perfectly tranquil. He was not, however, without his anxieties for his family; but was quite alive to the deep affliction in which his death would involve them. About nine in the evening, a few friends being assembled in the house, he was asked if it would be agreeable to him that they should join in prayer on his behalf. He instantly expressed his satisfaction, his countenance brightening into a smile that indicated the glory that filled his soul. He retained his consciousness almost to the

last moment: and at half-past twelve, on the morning of the first of September, his happy spirit entered into the rest that remaineth to the people of God. A relative who was present writes, "His departure, like his life, was marked, I may say, with an almost enviable serenity. The taper of life gradually sunk lower and lower in the socket, till he departed without a struggle, a groan, or the smallest apparent unwillingness.'

Many interesting reflections crowd upon the mind, at the close of such a life as that of Mr. Spear; but we have already exceeded our limits too far to indulge them. We therefore close this imperfect sketch with a faithful transcript of his character, from the hand of one who knew him intimately in his retirement, and was for several years an inmate of his family.

"Mr. Spear's active life had closed before I knew him, and I only knew him in retirement as a Christian and a man. In these characters, I rather think, I saw him to disadvantage; for having been active through life, and being quite secluded at last, it preyed, I fear, upon his mind, and prevented, perhaps, the full display of his excellencies.

"He was a man of genuine humility before God. This appeared in his prayers, in his confession of sin, in the hymns he sung at worship, in the whole train of his conversation. He deemed himself less than the least of all saints; confessed he was a sinner; and esteemed the humblest believer better than himself.

"Great meekness before men. His general manner was retired, and approached to shyness; but it rose from the meekness and gentleness of his disposition, his unassuming temper, and his wish to make all around him feel at ease and happy. In the society of the illiterate and the poor who were pious this appeared conspicuous, and indeed in all his conduct. He was especially careful not to seem to take the lead in company; was unwilling to put himself forward; would only guide conversation by a gentle hint, or modest remark, or inquiry, or he would be silent.

"His candour was great, Seldom would he speak on the subject of character at all, unless it was to say something favourable. If he was obliged to notice faults, it was generally to excuse them, or explain how they might have risen; and often would he remark, that there was no perfection, and would maintain his general charity where he could not wholly approve. Here he displayed remarkable command over his tongue, that world of iniquity; and often would he convey a severe reproof by his mere silence. If I have ever seen him

unpolite, it was in refusing to speak, lest he should injure character. In short, he knew how to be silent better than most men.

"His kindness was great to all with whom he had to do. It appeared in a look of benevolence and a smile of affection, that would be known in Scripture by the light of his countenance. It invited his friends to come and be happy, and feel at ease, and present their request. It appeared especially to his own family. It beamed upon his children, and prompted him to enjoy and even share their sports, rejoice in their progress, and reward them for obedience and goodness. It diffused a gentle influence round his family circle, that often composed my troubled spirit, soothed my anxious mind, led to devout and heavenly meditation, and inspired a sweetness and mildness that was delightful.

"His benevolence formed the element in which he lived. led him to seek the good, and rejoice in the happiness of all his friends, all his acquaintance, and all men; to take prompt and effectual means to promote it; to assist all good societies; to promote every useful plan; to grieve over the misery that could not be relieved. He felt deeply when his friends were sick, or when they died; wrote often and largely to them or the survivors on such occasions; rejoiced when they married, prospered, or recovered; exulted in the progress of the Gospel, of bible and education societies, and all plans of public good. Seldom has benevolence had fuller possession of the whole heart and soul of mortal man than of Mr. Spear.

"His liberality was unbounded. When in trade it was greater than it could be when he had retired; and then he supported, at one time, an academy alone, and gave money in hundreds at a time. He had the chapel in Manchester, at one time, wholly on his hands. He lent money to poor and industrious tradesmen; he gave to all chapel cases; he gave largely often to embarrassed ministers. I never knew him refuse or resist an application, or give a miserable donation. He thought the religious world erred in not sufficiently supporting charitable institutions, which have a reference only to the bodies of men; he never neglected these, saying they ought to be attended to, and the others not neglected. It was no excuse to him that the world would take care of their own. He had liberal arrangements in his own family; made liberal allowance to his servants; gave more liberal aid to his relations and friends, and acquaintance. He made most liberal and expensive arrangements for the instruction

of his children; and gave liberally to academies for the ministry, and for general education. Few men in modern times, especially among Dissenters, had such elevated ideas of a good, liberal, and pious education. For this he lived; to this his other plans were made subservient; for this he made the greatest sacrifices; and he was blessed in no common degree with the desire of his heart. In short, seldom has there appeared in private life a display of a more princely mind and elevated soul.

"His prudence was consummate. In the transactions of business he had a penetration and perspicacity that discovered at once what was right, and seemed prophetic to others. In ordinary concerns his prudence was most conspicuous; and his opinion was treated with the greatest deference in all public and religious affairs. His own affairs he regulated with discretion; he sought good ends by the best means; he prevented in no ordinary degree his good from being evil spoken of, and secured the end with the least measure of offence. His prudence did not fetter him in exertion, or prevent him from exertion; but guided him in all his efforts, and contributed to their success.

"His integrity was unimpeached and unimpeachable. In the transactions of trade he acted upon those large views and liberal principles that prevented his taking petty advantages, or carrying his rights to the utmost. Hence he would often pay what he did not really owe, rather than have the appearance of evil. He had large concerns in trade; few had larger; but never, I believe, did malice itself impugn his integrity.

"His enterprise and activity were conspicuous. He did what his hand found to do with all his might. He was diligent in business, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord. He introduced, I believe, some new markets first to the notice of the mercantile world; and had the largest transactions, and the greatest stake in the cotton trade, that were then known.

"His regularity in all his conduct was striking. It affected the order of his business and affairs, and made them all proceed with the greatest uniformity and success. It pervaded his domestic arrangements, and caused them all to move on with a calmness and comfort that could not easily be excelled. It influenced his devotion, and fixed the hours of family prayer with undeviating punctuality. Whether company was present or not, the domestic devotion was uninterrupted.

"His devotion was eminent and constant, and appeared in

his uniform regard to family religion. Often, when scarcely equal to it, would he be present at the family altar, and always, unless hindered by illness, or absence from home. His journeys were often regulated, and his returning home, in reference to the family devotion. The whole domestic arrangements of his house were made subservient to this, and constructed upon this principle. The last thing on leaving home was to commend the family to God, and the first on his return was to assemble them for devotion. He cultivated a devotional turn, read pious books, and had his conversation in heaven.

"His friendship was steady and lasting; nor was he given to change, or to be soon angry. He did not expect perfection in his friends, as he knew he did not display it; nor did he reject their friendship for a small matter. No; he kept his friends till God took them in providence or death. He was one of the few too who loved his friends so much as to risk their displeasure by telling them their faults. But this he did with a reluctance that shewed the pain it gave him, and a mildness that disarmed all who felt his reproof. When he smote indeed, it was a kindness and an excellent oil. It did not break the head, but bound him more firmly to your heart.

"His charity was great to all good men. It was not of that spurious kind that sinks all differences into nothing, under the power of lukewarmness. He was a conscientious Dissenter, and saw and lamented the evils brought on the church by human interference and secular arrangements in religious things. But while he preferred Dissenting order, and regarded it as Divine; while he was a strict Calvinist, from conviction that Calvinism was the doctrine of Scripture; while he walked with the churches whose order and doctrine he deemed scriptural, he maintained personal friendship and esteem for good men in all denominations. Many of his friends were Episcopalians, Methodists, Baptists, and Presbyterians. He acted according to his own light, and left others to the guidance of their conscience and the judgment of God. He rejoiced in Missionary and Bible societies, not merely for the amount of the good which they did, but because they tended to produce union and affection among all good men.

"He was a man of peace. His temper and disposition led him to cultivate this principle, and he sought it as pleasing to God and useful to man. In all cases of contention and quarrel, he was ready to act the part of mediator. He spared