Such is the record I made fifty-nine years ago, after an interview with one of the holiest men earth ever saw. He was exceedingly happy; he shouted aloud the praises of Jesus, and gave a glorious testimony to the power of religion to sustain in adversity. He talked sweetly of heaven, and of the numerous friends in America and in England that he expected to meet in heaven. I have ever esteemed it one of the most exalted privileges of my life to enjoy the interviews I did with the dying bishop, and to be favored with his benediction. On the 5th of July, 1806, the good bishop gave his soul to God and his body to the dust. Seldom has the Church lost a brighter ornament, seldom heaven received a purer spirit. Dr. Chandler delivered an address at his funeral to an immense crowd, and the remains were deposited under the altar of the church, in Dover, Delaware. PORTRAITURE OF BISHOP WHATCOAT. With Bishop Whatcoat I was personally acquainted for sixteen years. I had seen him at my father’s house long before he was elected bishop. I was present at his election and ordination, and I was myself ordained by him a deacon. I have heard him preach often; have traveled with him hundreds of miles; have been with him in many families; enjoyed his friendship, and had the benefit of his wise counsels. I presume there is no one living that has as many personal recollections of Bishop Whatcoat as I have. In regard to his personal appearance, Bishop Whatcoat was not very tall; he was stout, though not corpulent. He had a fine intellectual face; his mouth was small; his eyes not very dark, but expressive. His dress was very plain, in Methodist minister style: the shad-belly coat, and vest buttoned snug up to his neck. A few years before his death he lost all his hair, so he was entirely bald. Some time after, to his great astonishment, it began to grow, and his hair came out thick and beautiful, so that when he died he had a fine head of dark hair, not even sprinkled with gray. He combed it down straight over his forehead, the Methodist fashion in those days. It would have been considered out of order to have worn it so as to exhibit a noble forehead. His face, like that of Bishop Asbury, was bronzed or tanned by exposure to many summer’s suns and winter winds and storms. His likeness in the “Arminian Magazine” resembles him, though it is younger than when I saw him.