that God is indeed able to save to the uttermost."

own age.

About the close of his eighteenth year, growing weary of the dull and uniform routine of a small country town, and having procured a situation, he left Bodmin, in 1806, to spend the summer at Mount Pleasant, in Devonshire. Here he lodged at the house of a Mrs. F—, who had several young persons about his "While sitting together one evening," Mr. Wills writes, "the conversation turned on death. To get rid of the gloomy subject, I observed, 'It is quite time enough to talk of these things when we come to die. The thief on the cross said, "Lord, remember me, when thou comest into thy kingdom;" and when we can enjoy life no longer let us do likewise.' We separated, and I slept well that night. The next morning I was about to rise, and had raised my head, and was resting it on my hand with my elbow on my pillow, when suddenly it appeared as though Death came into my room, and, taking his stand a little within my door, levelled his dart at me, and asked, if I were prepared to die? My conversation on the previous night immediately occurred to my recollection. I was not able to say, 'Lord, remember me,' or to ask at all for pardon. I seemed conscious that an application for mercy, at such an extremity of life, would be treated with contempt, and that it was too late to alter my condition, whatever might be the issue. Full of suspense, I expected Death every moment to perform his office, and introduce me to the eternal world."

On rising under the influence of terror and joining the family, they perceived the deadly paleness of his countenance, and anxiously inquired the cause. He detailed the singular and awakening circumstance, which he imagined had passed before him. Mrs. F― regarded it as very extraordinary, and demanding his serious thought. The young people, however, full of ignorance and irreligion, laughed heartily and jeered, until young Wills began to think and feel with them,

or, at least, endeavoured to do so, that it had been nothing more than an idle illusion or dream. Still, he could not shake it off entirely; and he spent the day, he observes, "with unusual thoughtfulness." Returning alone in the evening, about a mile from the house where he was residing, he became so seriously alarmed at the prospect of death, that he actually staggered, and had nearly fallen to the ground before he could recover himself. Arriving at home, he complained of indisposition, and retired to his bed-room, where he knelt down, and began to repeat the Lord's Prayer and some of the short prayers which he had committed to memory when quite a child. None of these, however, seemed appropriate to his case. At last he arose, fully persuaded that he should die that night. Under this apprehension, he wrote a letter to his mother, which he placed on his table, and then retired to rest. Nature being exhausted, he soon fell asleep. The next morning, after looking around his room for some moments, scarcely believing his senses, to his inexpressible surprise, as he states it, he found himself still in the land of the living. The fear of sudden death, however, did not leave him for some weeks; and he was full of uncertainty how it would go with him beyond the grave: still his alarm, he observes, "arose more from the uncertainty whether he should be happy or miserable after death than from the sins of his youth."

The fear of death having subsided, our friend remarks: "I still continued circumspect, and a great reformation certainly took place." He spent the following winter in Exeter, and regularly went either to church or chapel, and attended to some devotional exercises: "but, alas!" says he, "all my religious services at this time were performed in my own strength." Indeed, there was no religion at all. "The root of the matter" was not yet found in him. He returned again to folly. The whole of the winter was spent in sinning and repenting, till, from repeatedly broken vows and pro

mises of amendment, he began to think it useless to pray or promise any more.

Early in the year 1807, he went into Wiltshire. As he journeyed, he reflected much on his past conduct, and on his plans for the future. While in Exeter, though having a decided bias for the Established Church, he perceived that what he had heard in the Dissenting chapels there had been more powerful in the restraints furnished against temptation than what he had gained elsewhere. "Still," remarked our friend, "to become one of that sect everywhere spoken against' was a cross I was not yet prepared to take up."

His determination then was to receive the sacrament at the Established Church at once, and to be regular in his attendance on Divine service.

This continued for some time; when one evening he was induced to attend the Independent chapel, and that visit occasioned regular attendance. He gave himself up to the perusal of the Scriptures; and "I attained," he observes, "more religious knowledge in a few months than I had before in my whole life."

The word, however, did not come with "demonstration of the Spirit and with power," until one sabbath, when Mr. Winchester, of Andover, came to supply the pulpit. In the introduction of his discourse, he observed, "God is here!" "This short and pungent sentence was like a nail driven home by the Master of assemblies. I knew the eye of God was especially fixed on me; and that all my heart-every secret of my life—was open to his inspection; that I must certainly appear to him the most wicked wretch on the face of the earth. To myself I was the chief of sinners. My head now fell down on the ledge of the pew, nor could I raise it again during the sermon. The eye of God was upon me, and with the most terrible alarm I retired to my lodgings. On entering my room I fell down upon my knees; and now I believe I began to pray. Indeed, my agony and alarm increased, until I feared, if I

should cease to pray, Satan would certainly that moment seize me. Full of terror, I know not how long I continued on my knees. At last, however, I ventured to look back over my shoulder, to see whether or not Satan was waiting behind me for that purpose. On discovering that my fears were groundless, I arose and thanked God." In a day or two his alarm somewhat abated, but for months he was much dejected. His past life appeared nothing to him but one mass of rebellion against a holy and gracious God; and he dreaded his dissolution as "the commencing moment of eternal misery."

So affecting and powerful were the circumstances connected with his conversion.

This state of mind continuing, one sabbath morning he saw enter the pulpit that excellent and useful minister, the late Mr. Weston, of Sherborne. "His long prayer," Mr. Wills observes, "much affected me; but when he described in his sermon the work of God on the soul, especially in conversion, his description so exactly coincided with my experience that had I communicated my feelings to any friend on earth it would have been impossible for him at that time to have prevailed on me to believe he had not informed the preacher; but perfectly sure that none knew the state of my mind but myself and the omniscient God, I concluded that what I had been groaning under was the work of God, and that, not because he was angry with me and about to destroy me, as I had been fearing, but because he loved and intended to

save me. The thunders of the law now fled before the sweet whispers of the gospel. My heart leaped for joy; my soul praised the God of my salvation; scarcely could I contain my transport; and I think I actually rose more than once to go up to the pulpit to embrace the dear servant of God, and to thank him for the good news which he had brought to my soul." How simple this is! How descriptive-how touchinghow beautiful! In how true and vivid

1821. The Rev. John Hunt, now of London, delivered the introductory discourse; Mr. Winter, of Newbury, presented the ordination-prayer; Dr. Waugh gave the charge; Mr. Griffin, of Portsea, preached to the people; and Dr. Bogue addressed the congregation in the evening. Thus closed a memorable day; and as there had not been an ordination at Basingstoke for thirty years, the chapel was thronged. All the ministers except one, who took a prominent part in the service on the day of the ordination, have "fallen asleep in Jesus."

Mr. Wills selected for his companion in life Miss Fenton, daughter of David Fenton, Esq., the highly esteemed deacon of the church under the care of the late Rev. A. Douglas, Broad-street, Reading. Three sons and three daughters with their widowed mother survive him, to mourn the loss, almost irreparable, of one of the most pious, affectionate, and devoted of husbands and fathers. His widow, in a note now lying before the writer, remarks,-and how beautiful the eulogy!" I found him for the twentyfour years I was privileged with his valuable society just as Dr. Bogue represented him. I think I never knew his equal."

The labours of Mr. Wills in Basingstoke were eminently blest. The church soon increased. During his pastorate about one hundred and thirty-one members were added to it, and the chapel was enlarged twice in the course of his ministry. The Sunday-school, also, in which he took a lively interest, greatly improved. A new school-room was, in consequence, erected, towards the expenses of which he bore a handsome proportion. To his flock he was an eminent example of liberality in connection with the cause of God.

His love to his people, and theirs to him, was of the most tender kind, of which they gave full proof on his lamented and unexpected decease. To them he had endeared himself by his sympathetic spirit, his effectual prayers, his holy solicitude, and his unremitting exertions to promote their best interests;

and, hence, he still lives in their affectionate remembrance, and, by many, will never be forgotten.

As a preacher, Mr. Wills was very acceptable. He was a "scribe instructed unto the kingdom of God." His sermons were not hasty productions, but the result of diligent and persevering study. Well were they filled with digested sentiment, and delivered, often, in a style the most pleasing, energetic, and impressive. Many were the instances in which his ministry was blessed on his occasional visits. In one, to his native town, a sermon preached from the words, "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners," was the means of his mother's conversion. The impression it produced was never forgotten. A few hours before her death, he said to her, "My dear mother, how do you feel in the prospect of dying? Have you any fear?" She replied, "Oh! no, my dear James; why should I fear? Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. He came to save me."

Mr. Wills was one of the most affectionate of fathers. On the 15th January, 1826, he lost a dear little girl, aged nine months. On the morning of that day, she was found a corpse by his side. That, to his sensitive mind, was a most dreadful shock: it was sustained, however, with peculiar resignation. By Mr. Ayliffe, of Stockbridge, who performed the funeral service, it is said, that "when accompanying him, in the mourningcoach, to the chapel, he 'wept bitterly,' yet then, with clasped hands and uplifted eyes, he suddenly exclaimed: 'Oh! how good and condescending is God, in having thus taken a dear child of mine to himself. I think I shall love him more than ever on this account, and feel a stronger desire to enter heaven, and be with him where he is.'" On the 28th December, 1840, he was deprived of a son, aged seventeen months, the loss of whom he bore with a similar spirit.

He was, moreover, a man of a very benevolent mind. He did not forget "to do good, and to communicate." He was

among the founders of the British School at Basingstoke, and always felt a special interest in its prosperity.

In the erection of the Independent chapel at Overton, he was likewise instrumental: he travelled and begged for it, both far and wide, and all at his own expense. He served other churches also: through his kind assistance and interposition, the Independent chapel in Endlessstreet, Salisbury, and that at Whitchurch too, were provided with efficient ministers, a short time only previously to his decease. For several years he was an active secretary to the Hampshire Association, and, by all the ministers in connection with that Society, he was not merely respected, but very "highly esteemed in love for his work's sake." Yet, valued as his services were, he was not permitted to continue, by reason of death. From a post-mortem examination, it was apparent that he had suffered long and greatly from an affection of the liver. On the 22nd of April, 1846, he attended the half-yearly meeting of the Hants Association, at Fareham. He then appeared in his usual health and spirits. On the following sabbath morning he preached in his own place of worship, on Matt. xxv. 13: "Watch, therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh." There was a peculiar solemnity in his manner, and very serious attention on the part of the people. "When we were returning home," writes Mrs. Wills, “my dear husband said to me, I tried to fix my attention on several other texts, but to no purpose. I could not disengage my mind from the one on which I preached this morning. It is a text I should have chosen for an

evening's discourse. I wished to say much more to the people on this subject, but had not time."" After the morning service he complained of indisposition, yet he would preach in the afternoon, and then baptized a child. The text on which he discoursed was Luke xvi. 26, "And, beside all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed: so that they which would pass from hence to

you cannot; neither can they pass to us that would come from thence." It is said, "Most solemn, and almost prophetic, were both the sermons, such as, we think, few who heard them will ever forget."

"After my return from the chapel, in the evening," says his widow, "he was taken very ill, complained of sickness, and hastily left the room. In less than five minutes he rang the bell. I went up to him, and found he had vomited a large quantity of blood. He then said to me, My dear, it is all over with me.' A medical gentleman was immediately sent for, and, after being lifted upon the bed, it was hours before I was allowed to take off his clothes, so fearful was his surgical attendant of a return of the vomiting of blood. He was only moved once out of bed the week he was ill. On the following Tuesday morning he sat up in bed, examining the papers connected with the Association. He wished to arrange the minutes of the meeting at Fareham, and it was not without some difficulty that I could prevail on him to allow me to put by the papers until, we hoped, he would be able to attend to them without danger." The time never came. After that, he survived only four days.

"The first time I saw him during his illness," says one of his deacons, "I spoke to him as to the state of his mind in the prospect of death. With as much energy as his weak frame would allow, he replied: 'I have no more dread or fear of death, than I should to walk out of this room into the next.' A night or two before he died, after I had spent a few minutes in prayer, we were speaking of his past labours, and, in repeating those words, Heaven is my home, &c.,' he said: 'My dear brother, I have laboured hard in the work of the ministry for many years, and, I trust, not without some success; but I am saved alone through grace-free, unmerited grace