I join with you in lamenting that none of those elaborate and judicious discourses which he delivered among you, from Sabbath to Sabbath, are, or can be, published to the world: for though it is certain that his graceful and venerable aspect, and his easy yet lively manner, gave a peculiar beauty to them as delivered by himself; yet, when I consider how judiciously his thoughts were selected, how methodically they were disposed, and with what propriety, elegance, and spirit they were expressed, I am well assured they would generally have been esteemed a rich addition to that great number of practical writings with which our age and country is already blest, and with which I hope it will still abound. * * * * * * * And, for what he was in the domestic relations of life, I had almost said, I wish it may not be too long, but I will rather say too tenderly, remembered. The loss of a husband so constantly obliging, so affectionately sympathizing, so well furnished as a prudent guide and a pleasant companion, and so well disposed for the offices of both, will, I fear, be too deeply felt. May the sense of it be tempered with those divine consolations which he was so eminently fit to administer, but which have not surely lost their value, and will not, I trust, lose their relish, though no longer administered by him. May the children which were dear to him as his own, never forget with how much diligence he instructed them; with how much importunity and constancy he prayed for them; and with what tenderness he watched over all their interests. I may add, even in the decline of life this light was growing brighter and brighter; and though his removal, while his capacities of usefulness were to the last so great, must be very affecting to you, yet I cannot forbear saying that you have some peculiar reason to be thankful for the manner and circumstances of his death. Nature was not racked with tormenting pains, nor worn out by a tedious, consuming illness; but the good man grew a little drowsy towards the evening of his long day, and, having "served his generation according to the will of God," gently "fell asleep" as he was going from one apartment of the house to another, and all the business and struggle of dying was over in less time than could have served him to get up the stairs, as he was attempting to do. It is a delightful thought, that God dismissed his servant in so peaceful a manner that his death so much resembled a translation, and "he was not, for God took him." Mr. Norris preached the last Sabbath he lived, and concluded the public service with a copious, lively, and affectionate prayer for his people, which could not have been more suitable if he had known he was then taking his last farewell.