"In May, 1825, having been detained one day when we were to pass this gulf, we entered it after the sun had set. Just before we arrived near the precipice, we thought we saw in the distance a light, resembling that which is emitted from the shoe of a horse as it strikes a stone. We listened, and distinctly heard the sound of carriage-wheels. The dense foliage of the forest-trees obscured the light of the stars, and rendered it quite dark; and knowing that the road was too narrow to permit two carriages to pass each other without the utmost care, our first fears were that the carriage was approaching us. Again we listened. Mr. Fisk immediately said, ' Whether the carriage is approaching us or not, I know from the sound that it is on the very edge of the precipice,' and called to them ' to keep to the right.' Again we listened; but receiving no answer, and hearing the same sound, he jumped from his carriage, giving me the reins; and speaking sharply to his horse to prevent his following him, he hastened on to the carriage, which was some distance before us. It was, indeed, on the very brink of the precipice, resting against a wooden rail, which had prevented it from plunging down, while the rail was actually bending beneath its weight. But for the timely assistance of Mr. F., it must have been destroyed. The carriage contained an intoxicated man, his wife, and two small children. The horse's bit was nothing but a rope, which was so much worn that it was difficult to manage him. But the man was equally unmanageable. After Mr. Fisk had with great exertion succeeded in getting the carriage from the bank, he persuaded the man to give up the reins, and requested his wife to hold them until he had fastened our carriage to theirs. He then led their horse, and in this way we proceeded through the Gulf, having nearly three miles to go before we could get to the open road; and deeply did we feel our dependance on our Divine Preserver."

We shall close this chapter with a few gleanings, which we found it not so convenient to introduce into an earlier period of our history.

The reader has probably noticed our subject's firm reliance upon an overruling Providence. This never forsook

him. In the midst of cares and trials, Mrs. Fisk observes, she has often known him to lie down and sleep as calmly as an infant; and when she has expressed her surprise, he would reply, "Why should I be anxious? Am I not in the hands of my heavenly Father? I try to do what I think is right and for the best, and then leave all with him." Thus we have a beautiful verification of the prophet's words, "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in thee."-Isaiah, xxvi., 3.

We have mentioned Mr. Fisk's residence at his father's. It would have been greatly to his temporal interest to have remained there; but when the ministers at the other end of the district urged that it would be better for his charge to have him nearer the centre, he did not hesitate to remove to East Randolph.

As a proof of his anxiety for the improvement of the younger ministers, the following incident may be given: One who was stationed on a circuit near to Mr. Fisk's residence, under his advice commenced the study of the Latin language. It was his practice to come to Mr. Fisk's house, when he was at home, to recite; and to redeem his time, and avoid interruptions from company, the young man always retired to bed at sunset and rose at midnight, the family supplying him with fire and candles; and that he might hear his recitation without interruption, his instructer also rose earlier than usual; but, in consequence of his cough, it was necessary for him to have his breakfast as soon as possible after rising. Hence the arrangements of the whole family were disturbed. Such, also, is a specimen of the energy, sacrifices, and privation of many Methodist ministers in prosecuting their studies.

While on the district, a school or association was formed for the instruction and improvement of the young exhorters and those who had the ministry in view. I am not informed whether Mr. Fisk originated it, but he certainly concurred in it very cordially, and gave as much of his time to its advancement as he could spare when in its vicinity. The Rev. I. Lord was for some time the instructer. Similar associa⚫tions have been formed elsewhere among the Methodists.

Mr. Fisk did not limit his preaching, while on the district, to his regular appointments. He was always ready to preach the word wherever he could find attentive hearers; nor did a regard for remuneration sway him in the least. He has frequently carried the Word of Life to destitute congregations, not only without remuneration, but at his own expense. He was accustomed to remark that "those who paid least needed the Gospel most," and that he thought "the hardest work grace had to do was to make a covetous man liberal;" and that he feared "more would lose heaven by that sin than any other, because no man would own himself to be covetous, though very few obeyed the injunction, 'Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others.'"

There is certainly no situation in life that more imperatively demands elevation of Christian character than that of an itinerant minister; and, as an inevitable counterpart, there are few that present severer tests of the disinterested virtues. From the very nature of the existing relations, great caution is required to guard against the grovelling views of envy, jealousy, and self-seeking; nor can we ascribe it to anything but the special grace of the Almighty, that the body has always, thus far, been preserved in so pure a spirit of brotherly affection. No man was ever more exempt from these vile dispositions than our subject, and no man, probably, has exerted a better influence in this respect on others. As an illustration, we give the following anecdotes: On a certain occasion, he observed a young preacher on his district apparently very much depressed in spirits. His sympathizing disposition led him to ask the cause. The young man gave him to understand that it was an apprehension that he could not meet the expectations of the people, alleging, as the reason for this apprehension, the constant encomiums which he heard upon his predecessor. Mr. Fisk replied that upon his mind it would have just the opposite effect; that, wherever he went, his predecessor was the constant subject of eulogy also; "and I think," added he, "if they love brother L., they will have some Christian love for me, if I merit it; but if they did not love him, I certainly should not expect to excite their Christian sympathy."

But if it is virtuous to rejoice in the honours and prosperity of another when he is justly entitled to them, it requires a still nobler elevation to leave another in undisturbed possession of what belongs to ourselves. At a certain time, several ministers were expressing their admiration of a younger brother, just deceased, for a certain document ascribed to him by his biographer, and lamenting the loss the Church had sustained in his early departure. Mr. Fisk mentioned having met the person in question at the General Conference, and being highly pleased with him, but said nothing about the document.

"You do not think very highly of that document," said Mrs. Fisk to him, after the others had withdrawn, judging, probably, by his apparent reserve.

"Not very," was the reply.

"What do you consider its defects?"

Going to his desk, he drew out the original draught of the document in his own handwriting.

"There," he said, "is the proof who is the author. Your husband wrote it."

"But how did this mistake happen?"

"As I write an indifferent hand, he copied it; and being found in his handwriting, it was ascribed to him."

"But you ought to have the honour of it."

"I do nothing for honour-I have honour enough," was all his reply.

It ought to be considered that at the date of this transac tion Mr. Fisk was only just coming before the public, and, of course, a little credit at that period was of much more importance to him than subsequently. The reader, if he please, may compare this with the celebrated incident of a similar character in the life of Dr. Samuel Johnson. After listening for some time to the applauses some friends bestowed on one of Pitt's supposed speeches, published in the Gentleman's Magazine, "I wrote that speech," thundered forth the lexicographer, "in a garret in Exeter-street." The simple divine eclipses the great philosopher. To be indifferent to honour is often, not to say always, the surest way to obtain it.

CHAPTER IX.

Wesleyan Academy.-Removal to Wilbraham.-Government.-Revival.-Election Sermon.-Embarrassments of the Institution.-Theological Class.

WE must now turn our attention to the history of the Wesleyan Academy. When the committee appointed to examine the condition of the Newmarket Academy determined on the expediency of moving the institution to some other place, the people of North Wilbraham offered to erect suitable buildings for the purpose, and pledged their influence to promote the prosperity of the school if located among them. This, in connexion with other considerations, determined the committee to fix on Wilbraham as the location. An act of incorporation was obtained from the Legislature of Massachusetts, trustees were appointed, and other necessary arrangements made to organize the school as soon as practicable. Amos Binney, Esq., of Boston, very generously pledged ten thousand dollars towards the enterprise, and the Rev. John Lindsey was appointed agent to procure the remainder by subscription. The following spring (1825) the buildings were commenced.

The eighth day of November of the same year was the time appointed by the board of trustees for opening the academy. The occasion was celebrated with a little festival, consisting of an address from Mr. Fisk, accompanied by appropriate religious services. In the evening, by the liberality of the citizens, the academy buildings were handsomely illuminated. The address was listened to with great interest, and was afterward published in pamphlet form. It is marked by the author's usual characteristics. But many will be surprised to hear of the manner in which it was composed. Such were the urgency of the author's duties, and the demands upon his time, that he could not command leisure for its preparation except while in his chaise. The whole of it, therefore, was written with a pencil on the road at va