His faith grew firmer as his flesh failed, and the less he could himself do, the more he was ready to trust God to do for him. On one occasion, when it seemed as if his hour of death had come, his sisters who were nearest were all summoned to his bedside, and just then two other sisters came in unexpectedly,--one from Boston, the other from Wisconsin,--while a friend whom he had particularly desired to see again, also visited him. For the first time in several years the family were all together at home. This moved Manning to profoundest gratitude to God, and he repeatedly referred to it in this spirit, telling over the story of recent blessings secured to himself and his loved ones, as though he had just pride in the power and goodness of his heavenly Father, who had done all this for his comfort. Again, when he was pressed for means to supply his daily necessities, a sister came to him one morning to say that a letter had been received covering a gift of thirty dollars for his use. A pleasant smile came over his face as he responded, "I prayed for money last night. It was the first time I had asked for that in a good while." There were long and weary weeks for him of final trial in racking pain--the whole inner system destroyed by the foul air of swamp and dungeon, and the scant or vile food of stockade and jail, while the still young and naturally vigorous outer man refused to be yet wholly crushed. There were dreams of prison-life, hunger and thirst ever unsatisfied; and seasons of agony in struggle for breath, as with slow, wasting flesh, and cold, clammy brow, the patient sufferer whispered with livid lips, in unfailing trust, "I want nothing; I wish for nothing; I hope for nothing: I only wait," until death brought relief and rest on the evening of Friday, Sept. 4, 1868. Two days later, his remains were borne out by loving hands from the church where, seven years before, that very month, he had stood up to witness for Jesus before going out to face death at the call of God, and tenderly laid away under the green turf of the neighboring hill-side cemetery, close by the tasteful granite shaft which stands "In Memory of Warwick's Soldiers who fell in the War of the Great Rebellion." CLAIMS OF THE DEAD ON THE LIVING.