On Tuesday the 8th of May, 1838, a few of his friends visited him at his own house; he wore his usual cheerfulness, and they wished him, as they thought, a short farewell as he stepped into his gig on a journey of about five and-twenty-miles. In passing through the low lands contiguous to Windsor, the cold suddenly affected him, and he complained of illness on his arrival at the house of his friend, the Rev. Mr. Styles, the chaplain of the parish. Erysipelas in the head broke out, and a general stupor followed, so that he became insensible. His mind wandered amongst the scenes to which his life had been devoted, and he uttered a few incoherent expressions about the factory, the orphan school, and the New Zealand mission. "Though he spoke but little," says his friend, Mr. Styles, in his funeral sermon, "yet in his few conscious moments he said quite enough to show that the Saviour whom he served through life was with him in the time of trial. A single remark was made to him by a bystander on the value of a good hope in Christ in the hour of need. 'Yes,' said he, 'that hope is indeed precious to me now;' and on the following evening, his last on earth, he was heard repeating the words 'precious, precious,' as if still in the same strain of thought which that remark had suggested. Soon after, inflammation having reached the brain, his spirit was released. On Saturday morning, the 12th of May, he entered--who can doubt?--upon the enjoyment of his 'eternal and exceeding great reward.'" * * * * * He was buried in his own churchyard at Paramatta. Upwards of sixty carriages formed the mourning train, and a numerous assemblage of mourners, including most of the public functionaries in the colony, followed him to the grave. Of these, some who had in years long past thwarted and opposed him came at last to offer an unfeigned tribute of deep respect. A few had been his early associates in the ministry, and in every good word and work. The majority were a youthful generation, to whom he was only known as a wise and venerable minister of God. His parishioners had been most of them brought up under his instructions, and had been taught from their infancy to look up to him with respect and love. The solemn burial service was read by the Rev. Dr. Cowper, who first came out to the colony at Mr. Marsden's solicitation. He stood over the grave and addressed the mourners on the early devotedness of their departed friend and pastor to the great work of the ministry, told them how solemnly he had dedicated himself to God before he left England in his youth, and reminded them of the fidelity with which through evil and good report he had endured his Master's cross, despising the shame.