,
 
 NO. 87. 
 ADVICE 
 
 FROM 
 
 A MASTER TO HIS APPRENTICE 
 
 WHEN LEAVING HIS SERVICE, AND ENTERING ON LIFE 
 FOR HIMSELF. 
 
 NEW-YORK, 
 
 PUBLISHED BY J. EMOKY AND B. WAUGH, 
 
 THE TRACT SOCIETY OF THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, 
 AT tfllE COKFCRLJfCE OFFICE, 14 CROSBY-STEBBT. 
 
 Azor Hoyt, Printer. 
 1828.
 
 ADVICE FROM 
 A MASTER TO HIS APPRENTICE. 
 
 IT has been my endeavour, from the time you were first 
 committed to my care, to guard you against those evils to 
 which your inexperienced age was exposed, and to direct 
 and encourage you in the principles of religion and prac- 
 tices of virtue, that so you might lay the foundation for a 
 happy and useful life. " I would now, with great affection, 
 fulfil the last part of my trust, by giving you some impor- 
 tant counsels and cautions, at your entrance on a new stage 
 of life, wherein you will meet with temptations and diffi- 
 culties which you never yet experienced, and will need all 
 the assistance you can receive from God and man, for your 
 wise and happy conduct. 
 
 1. See that the foundation of religion be well laid, in a 
 sincere conversion, an entire and willing resignation of 
 your soul to God, as your sovereign Lord and Ruler and 
 supreme and satisfying Good ; living by faith on Christ 
 Jesus as the Saviour and Hope of sinners, through whose 
 mercy and mediation you are to seek for, and receive, 
 every blessing from God, for time and eternity. If some- 
 times you faintly hope that you have already advanced ' 
 thus far, my advice is, that you never rest satisfied till you 
 have, in your own conscience, a full evidence of the im- 
 portant and delightful fact. It is a dreadful thing for an 
 immortal spirit to hang in a state of suspense, by the slen- 
 der thread of life, between two such amazing extremes as 
 an eternal heaven or an eternal hell. Satisfaction may 
 be had ; and, believe a friend, it is worth all the prayers, 
 pains, and vigilance, you can use to obtain it. 
 
 2. As you*are entering into a world wherein a variety 
 i>f examples, methods of conduct, and maxims in religion 
 will be presented to you, some plausible, some pernicious, 
 and many destructive ; if you value your conscience or your 
 comfort, make the sacred word of Gfbd, which is to be the 
 rule of your future judgment, the invariable rule of your 
 
 "isposition and practice. You will never find a more faith- 
 :! counsellor, a more advantageous guide, or a more cor- 
 ;i an.i constant friend, than in those sacred oracles of 
 
 87
 
 3 
 
 \visilom and truth, if you closely study and practise them. 
 Let no day, therefore, pass over without some serious pe- 
 rusal of them, jined with humble, earnest prayer to God 
 for wisdom to understand them, and power to conform to 
 them. Study the inimitable ru les of wisdom and prudence 
 in the Proverbs of Solomon, to direct your practice ; the 
 Psalm* of David, to inspire your devotion ; and the whole 
 word of God, especially the New Testament, to form your 
 faith,, your hope, and your temper. Particularly, treasure 
 up in your mind some passages relating to each revealed 
 doctrine, each commanded duty, and each forbitlden tem- 
 per ; that your belief may be directed by the wisdom, and 
 your conscience awed by the authority of God, in every 
 season of duty and temptation. "Bind them continually 
 upon thy heart, and tie them about thy neck. When thou 
 goest, it shall lead thee ; when thou sleepest, it shall keep 
 thce ; and when thou awakest, it shall talk with thee; for 
 tie commandment is a lamp ; and the law is a light ; and 
 the reproofs of instruction arc the way of life," Proverbs 
 vi, 21-23. 
 
 3. If you would enjoy the pleasures of a rational, reli- 
 gious being, let your actions not only be lawful for the mat- 
 ter of them, but laudable as to the ends for which you per- 
 form them ; that is, let it be the chief view, and highest 
 end, in all you do, to please God, and glorify him. It is 
 the great prerogative of the most high God, and the proper 
 homage that is due to him from all his reasonable creatures, 
 i hat as he is their Creator and absolute Owner, so he is 
 their chief End in all things ; and this end should be ha- 
 bitually regarded by them in all their actions. It is the 
 frreat condescension of God, and consolation of religion, 
 that God hath not only permitted us to enjoy the comforts, 
 ind perform the offices of life, but hath made it part of 
 ur duty so to do : so that there is not a minute of our 
 MVCS, but we may be doing the work of God while we are 
 serving ourselves, and may convert the common actions of 
 life into the services of religion, by directing them to his 
 glory. Study noble views, in all you do : devote your- 
 self entirely to God, and he will return you to yourself 
 wiser and better than he found you ; study to glorify him 
 by a life of holiness and beneficence, and he will honour 
 Jind bless you. So much as is done for God, he will ac- 
 cept and reward as the expression of your duty and aflec- 
 
 2O3OO34
 
 tion ; but what is done from, low and selfish views, is lost 
 from your account. " Whatsoever you do, therefore, do it 
 in singleness of heart, as unto. Christ ; with good will, do- 
 ing service as io the Lord," Eph. vi, 5-7. 
 
 4. Be very watchful against an inordinate affection for 
 the present world. Use, it with sober cheerfulness, and 
 gratitude to Heaven, as far as is necessary to your present 
 comfortable existence ; but suffer it not to engage your 
 heart. An earthly, sensual mind, is the basest perversion 
 of the noble faculties of the soul of man, and the highest 
 dishonour reflected on that glorious and good being who 
 created and redeemed it, and proposes himself to be its 
 full felicity and eternal joy. The predominant degree of 
 this evil and sordid disposition is ever inconsistent with 
 sincerity in religion; and the inordinate degrees of it in 
 good men are the foundation of many sorrows and divine 
 rebukes. Very just is the observation which I remember 
 to have seen, " That whatever we make an idol of, will 
 be a cross to us, if we belong to Christ ; and a curse to us>, 
 if we do not." The interests of the soul, in sincere Chris- 
 tians, more frequently suffer from the unhallowed love of 
 lawful objects than from the lo\e of unlawful ones. Watch 
 carefully, therefore, over your affections ; and when any 
 temporal good appears unusually delightful, see that your 
 inclinations to God do not grow feeble and languid thereby, 
 and your affections to spiritual concerns more cold and in- 
 different : remembering " that to be carnally minded is 
 death ; but to be spiritually minded is life and peace." 
 
 5. Labour to possess, and constantly to cherish, a meek 
 and humble spirit, which is of high estimation in the 
 sight of God and man. This will, make you easy to be 
 pleased, difficult to be offended, calm and serene in every 
 circumstance of life. This will cause you to be courteous 
 and affable to inferiors, respectful to superiors, and will 
 procure honour and esteem from others, far beyond all the 
 assuming airs of pride, arrogance, and self applause. Es- 
 pecially let this disposition be cherished in all your reli- 
 gious con/eras ; a condescending God, a humble Redeemer, 
 and a proud sinner are the most astonishing scenes that can 
 present themselves to the mind of man. Labour to be 
 sensible how little knowledge and goodness you possess, 
 compared with the rule of your duty, and the attainments 
 of others ; and never measure yourself but by your supe-
 
 riors in wisdom and goodness, except to excite your grati- 
 tude to Heaven for its greater favours to yourself. 
 
 6. Watch over the natural appetites of the body, lest 
 those senses, which were designed to administer innocent 
 pleasures, become the incentive to sin. The sensitive af- 
 fections have so far overpowered reason and conscience in 
 man, that the Scripture can find no word more fit to de- 
 scribe his fallen state, than flesh ; and I can assure you 
 that it requires all the assistance, which reason and reli- 
 gion afford, to keep them in due subordination. Be chaste 
 and virtuous, not only in your discourse and behaviour, 
 but in the dispositions of your mind ; indulge no wanton 
 thoughts or looks, and carefully avoid every sort of temp- 
 tation ; for you know not how great a flame the spark of 
 hist, when indulged, may kindle. Observe the injunctions, 
 which our Lord and Saviour has given, concerning the 
 government of the eyes ; Matt, v, 28 ; and recollect that 
 the unclean shall not enter into the kingdom of our God. 
 Be sober and temperate in the use of diet and drink ; every 
 degree is excessive herein, which renders you indisposed 
 to action and exercise of body and mind : particularly, let 
 no company engage you to exceed the bounds of reason ; 
 a peremptory refusal or two, at first, will ever after free 
 yon from their solicitations ; but easy compliance will en- 
 courage their repeated assaults. 
 
 7. Be very cautious in your choice of company and 
 friends, for we insensibly grow like those whom we fre- 
 quently and familiarly converse with. Be rude and un- 
 civil to none, but intimate only with few ; and let those 
 few be well chosen, such as you may improve by in virtue 
 and goodness. Especially let this advice be attended to in 
 the choice of a relation for life. Affection is often blind, 
 and makes fatal mistakes both as to persons and things; if 
 therefore you would consult your true happiness, never 
 enter into an engagement of this nature, without seriously 
 considering the importance of Christian character, and ad- 
 vising with your elder and more judicious friends, whose 
 knowledge of human nature will assist you to form a pro- 
 per judgment on one of the most interesting subjects which 
 can come before the human mind. Be careful daily to 
 worship God in secret, according to the direction of our 
 Saviour, Matt, vi, 1. And should you be placed at the/ 
 head of a family, worship Him morning and evening, with 
 
 87 
 
 '
 
 your household. Be constant also in your attendance o i 
 public worship ; and see that all under your care do the 
 same. Let the Sabbath be observed from beginning to 
 end, as a day of holy rest. In all your ways acknowledge 
 God, and he will direct your paths. 
 
 8. I cannot conclude thisletter of advice without strongly 
 recommending benevolence, as the noblest disposition, 
 and as an inlet to the richest enjoyment. Consider your- 
 self as a member of the universe, whose proper dispositioa 
 is to feel the sorrows, and rejoice in the happiness, of all 
 the beings thai surround you ; and permit me to assure you 
 that the sensual, the covetous, the ambitious, in the highest 
 gratification of their desires, never felt a joy comparable 
 to that of doing good. Watch, therefore, against a con- 
 tracted, selfish spirit, as no less injurious to yourself than 
 to others ; and be diligent, prudent, and frugal, in ail your 
 n;anagement, that you may have the privifege of being a 
 great blessing to others ; especially endeavour to promote 
 their best interests, by all possible means, whereby you 
 may be an everlasting blessing unto them. 
 
 ?Tlay the God of all grace inspire your heart with hea- 
 venly wisdom, preserve yon from the evils of life, grant you 
 prosperity, and make you a blessing in every relation 
 thereof; may he give you to feel the power, and enjoy 
 the pleasures of religion in this world, and in due time 
 grant you to receive the rewards of it in a better. This 
 is the hearty prayer and desire of 
 
 . Your sincere friend, and 
 
 Affectionate master.
 
 " Know thou the God of thy father, and serve him with 
 a perfect heart, and with a willing mind. For the Lord 
 searcheth all hearts, and understandeth all the imagina- 
 tions of the thoughts ; if thou seek him he will be found of 
 thee; but, if thou forsake him, he will cast thee off for 
 
 BREATHING AFTER HOLINESS. 
 
 OH ! that the Lord would guide my ways 
 
 To keep his statutes still ! 
 Oh ! that my God would grant me grace 
 
 To know and do his will. 
 Oh ! send thy Spirit down to write 
 
 Thy laws upon my heart! 
 Nor let my tongue indulge (Deceit, 
 
 Nor act the liar's part. 
 
 From vanity turn off mine eyes ; 
 
 Let no corrupt design, 
 Nor covetous desire arise 
 
 Within this soul of mine. 
 
 Order my footsteps by thy word, 
 
 And make my heart sincere ; 
 Let sin have no dominion, Lord, 
 
 But keep my conscience clear. 
 My soul hath gone too far astray, 
 
 My feet too often slip, 
 Yet since I've not forgot thy way, 
 
 Restore thy wand'ring sheep. 
 
 Make me to walk in thy commands ; 
 
 'Tis a delightful road ; 
 Nor let my head, or heart, or hands, 
 
 Offend iigainst my God. 
 
 INSTRUCTIONS FROM SCRIPTURE. 
 
 How shall the young secure their hearts, 
 And guard their lives from sin 1 
 
 Thy word the choicest rules imparts, 
 To keep the conscience clean.
 
 . ' 8 
 
 When once it enters to the mind, 
 It spreads such light abroad, 
 
 '..' he meanest souls instruction find, 
 And raise their thoHghts to God. 
 
 'Tis like the sun, a heavenly light, 
 That guides us all the day ; 
 
 And through the dangers of the night, 
 A lamp to lead our way. 
 
 The men that keep thy law with care, 
 
 And meditate thy word, 
 -vrow wiser than their teachers are, 
 
 And better know the Lord. 
 
 Thy precepts make me truly wise ; 
 
 1 hate the sinner's road : 
 I have my ownurain thoughts that rise, 
 
 But love thy^law, my God. 
 The starry heavens thy rule obey, 
 
 The earth maintains her placeij 
 And these thy servants night and Hay, 
 
 Thy skill and power express. 
 
 But still thy law and gospel, Lord, 
 
 Have lessons more divine ;. 
 Not earth stands firmer than thy word, 
 
 Nor stars so nobly shine. 
 Thy word is everlasting truth, 
 
 How pure is every page ! 
 That holy book shall guide our youth, 
 
 And well support our age. 
 
 Ko ! all ye hungry, starving souls, 
 
 * That feed upon the wind, 
 And vainly strive with earthly toys 
 To fill an empty mind ; 
 
 Kt-?rnal wisdom hath prepared 
 
 A iioul-reviving feast, 
 And bids your longing appetites 
 
 The rich provision taste.
 
 NO. 68 
 
 ' At her earnest request I now prayed juth her." 
 
 THE COTTAGER'S WIFE. 
 
 ' To the poor,' ' said our Lord when questioned as to 
 divine mission, " is the gospel preached." The " com- 
 mon people," too, we are told by one of the evangelists, 
 heard our Saviour " gladly." St. Paul declares, " that not 
 many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many 
 noble are called." And St. James asks, whether it is not 
 notorious that God hath chosen the "poor of this world, 
 rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom which he hath pro- 
 mised to those that love him ?" The subsequent history 
 of the church of Christ presents a similar testimony. To 
 the poor the gospel hath still been preached, and by them 
 it has, in general, been most favourably received. Among 
 this h/umble class, some of the most striking instances of 
 the power and grace of Christ have been exhibited ; and 
 by .them have the rich blessings of his gospel been fre- 
 qo/ently most highly prized, and most purely enjoyed. 
 
 ' In adding another proof of the truth of these remarks, 
 from an example which lately fell under my own observa- 
 tion, my only motives are to display the glory of the Re- 
 deemer, and the excellency of the gospel ; and to draw 
 - from a simple statement of facts, a few plain but important 
 lessons of instruction and consolation, for the benefit of 
 my Christian brethren. 
 
 I was lately called to undertake the pastoral care of a
 
 small parish, in one of the inland counties. My predeces- 
 sor, now gone t>> give up his account to the great Shepherd 
 and Bishop of souls, was a man of considerable talents and 
 learning ; of sincere piety, and most amiable manners. In 
 his parish, lij^prea^tiing and private exertions had produ- 
 ced a remarkM)le degree of regularity and decency of man- 
 ners among the poor people, of whom it was almost exclu- 
 sively composed. How far his labours were blessed in 
 producii. .uine and unequivocal fruits of repent- 
 
 ance and faith in the heart of any of his parishioners, which 
 every zealous minister is anxious to perceive, I am as yet 
 scarcely competent to determine. Yet in the case of the 
 person of whom I am now about to give you a short ac- 
 count, I found that he had been instrumental of much good, 
 both by his sermons, his private instructions, and the books 
 which he had giv^i her. 
 
 I had officiated but once in my parish, when I was told 
 that there was a poor young woman supposed to be in a 
 decline, who wished to see me. I accordingly took an 
 early opportunity of calling on her. As I resided about. 
 two miles from the village, and could have, as yet, but a 
 slight acquaintance with the characters of its inhabitants, 
 t was employed on my way, in considering in what manner , 
 I might be likely to render my visit most profitable to my \ 
 poor patient. My clerical brethren, and indeed all those* 
 who have been in the habit of attending the sick beds, 
 whether of the rich or the poor, will readily enter into the 
 anxiety and perplexity of my thoughts upon such a subject. 
 They will not be surprised, that my expectations, as to the 
 actual state of the sick person, \vere not very favourable; 
 and that I rather feared to find, what is so commonly met 
 with on these occasions, either great insensibility and un- 
 concern, or a false and ill-grounded satisfaction and confi- 
 dence in the goodness and safety of her condition. T t i- 
 a melancholy consideration, that there should in general 
 be so much ground for such apprehensions; and while it 
 shows the vast importance of a parochical ministry, it may 
 serve to quicken those who are engaged in it, to the dili- 
 gent use of every means of awakening and instructing their 
 flocks. Absorbed in this painful but* profitable train of 
 thought, I arrived at the village and was soon directed, by 
 rny clerk's daughter, to one of the smallest cottages I had 
 ever seen. On lifting the latch of this lowly dwelling
 
 I was struck with the remarkable cleanliness and neat- 
 ness of every part of it. The furniture, though of the 
 humblest kind, was decent, and in the most perfect order, 
 and various traces might be perceived of the industry and 
 care of the mistress of this little abode, though she had no\v 
 been confined for some weeks to her bed. The cottage 
 consisted but of two small rooms, separated by a few stairs, 
 or rather steps, which led from the one to the other. I was 
 met at my entrance by a pleasing looking elderly woman, 
 holding in her arms an infant, a few months old. " 1 
 heard," said I, " that a young woman was ill here, and ] 
 have called to see her. Are you her mother ?" "I am her 
 husband's mother, sir, and this is her little child. Poor, 
 dear babe, he has never known the comfort of his mother, 
 and I am very much afraid lie will soonJose her." " I am 
 sorry," said I, " to hear she is so ill Would she like to 
 see me now, do you think ?" " Oh yes, sir, that 1 am sure 
 she will." This answer was made in so unusual a tone of 
 confidence and apparent welcome, that I could not help 
 hailing it as a token for good. How often, alas ! are min- 
 isters received with a degree of coldness and indifference, 
 ;n their visits to the sick, which too plainly proves that these 
 abours of love are but slightly valued, if at all desired. 
 
 The reply was no sooner made, than I followed the good 
 ivoman into the sick room. It was a little apartment form- 
 ed out of the roof of the cottage, open to the stairs, and 
 without any means of warming it by a fire. The walls were 
 white washed, and it had one very small casement, which 
 its ueat but afflicted tenant had adorned with a little mus- 
 lin curtain. On a bedstead just raised 1'rom the floor, and 
 without any curtain to shelter hei from the keen air of 
 winter lay the poor object of my visit, apparently far ad- 
 vanced in a consumption. " Alas !" thought I, " this is but 
 a comfortless accommodation for one in such a disorder ! 
 How many in the midst of health, would think themselves 
 hardly used, to be obliged to content themselves with such 
 an apartment '? Can I ever murmur at any circumstances 
 in my own comparatively favoured lot ? Forbid- it, Lord ! 
 and forgive the repining thoughts which have sometime.- 
 found admission into my mind. Oh ! make me thankful 
 for my superior blessings ; and in whatsoever state I am, 
 let me learn therewith to be content." These and similai 
 thoughts passed rapidly through my mind as I approached
 
 the bedside of my poor parishioner. " M ," said her 
 
 mother in law, " here is the minister come to see you." 
 " I am very glad to see him," was the immediate answer, 
 "and greatly obliged to him for coming so far in this 
 cold weather." " How do you find yourself?" said I. "I 
 am very ill, sir, and feel that I am getting weaker every 
 day." " How long have you been ill ?" "Three and twen- 
 ty weeks, sir. I have never been well since the birth of 
 my poor babe, and I begin to think that I shall never re- 
 cover." I perceived at once by the hectic flush upon her 
 cheek, and by the difficulty with which she breathed, tha, 
 her apprehensions were but too well founded, and there- 
 fore determined to lose no time in examining the state oi 
 her mind as to religion. " Your illness," said I, " has indeed 
 been very long, an<| seems now to be very serious ; but this 
 is the Lord's doing it is He who has laid you on the bee 
 of sickness ; and the length of your confinement has givei. 
 you a very merciful opportunity of thinking upon religion 
 and the concerns of your soul. I hope you have improved 
 it." " I have tried to do so, sir." " I am glad to hear you 
 say so ; but let me have a little serious conversation with 
 you upon this subject." " That is what I greatly desire, 
 sir." " Religion, you know, should be the great business 
 of our lives, whether in health or sickness, but especially 
 in sickness ; and since your state seems very uncertain, le: 
 me ask you what you think about it. If it should please 
 God that you should not recover, what hope have you as 
 to another world ?" Those who know by painful experi- 
 ence the answers which are commonly made both by the 
 rich and the poor to such a question, will judge of the sur- 
 prise and pleasure I felt on hearing a very different reply 
 from my afflicted parishioner. In feeble accents, broken 
 and interrupted by her cough and labouring breath, shr 
 spoke as nearly as I can recollect, as follows : " Sir, I 
 know and acknowledge that I am a poor miserable sinner ; 
 a great sinner, sir. I do not mean that I ever committed 
 any very heinous crime : but notwithstanding this, I kno\v 
 and feel that I am a very sinful creature. I have endeavour- 
 ed, sir, during my long illness, to call to mind my past life : 
 and as nearly as I can remember, / have spread all my sin* 
 hefore God, and earnestly begged his forgiveness through 
 Jesus Christ. I know and believe that he is the only Sa- 
 viour of sinners I put my whole trust in him and I hope
 
 I have come to him I know that he is a merciful Saviour 
 but, sir," (and here she burst into tears,) " when I reflect 
 upon my vileness and sinfulness, I often fear that he will not 
 receive me and if Christ should refuse me, where shall I 
 go, or what shall I do to be saved !" Many of my readers 
 will anticipate my reply to this affecting but hopeful de- 
 claration. I told my poor patient, that I was truly rejoiced 
 to hear what she had just been saying ; that the frame of her 
 mind was very much what I wished it to be ; and that if 
 she was perfectly sincere in what she had told me, of which 
 indeed, from her whole air and manner, I could have but 
 little doubt, there was much taat 1 could say to comfori 
 her. I said that it was a great satisfaction to me to find 
 that she was convinced of her sinful state, and of the ne- 
 cessity of Christ as a Saviour, and assured her that if she 
 came to him with a sincere and humble faith, there could 
 be no doubt of his willingness to receive her. To confirm 
 this I read to her several passages of Scripture, particularly 
 1 Tim. i, 15; John iii, 16, 17, and vi, 37; and Matt, xi, 
 28-30; to which she listened with profound and eager 
 attention, and afterwards expressed the encouragement 
 and consolation which they afforded her. 
 
 Fearing, however, that what had given me so much plea- 
 sure might possibly be, at least in part, owing to a religious 
 education, or to a merely nominal acquaintance with reli- 
 gious sentiments and phraseology, I inquired of my poor 
 parishioner where she had obtained a degree of knowledge 
 in religion, which, unhappily, was but too seldom met with 
 in visiting sick beds. She told me that as long ago as she 
 could remember, she had been impressed with the fear of 
 God, and a strong desire to be a true Christian. " When 
 I was quite a child, sir," said she, " I had a great dread of 
 the Almighty upon me." This was her exact expression, 
 by which I doubt not she meant to describe that, which the 
 Psalmist speaks of when he says, " Even from my youth 
 up, thy terrors have I suffered with a troubled mind." " At 
 this early age, sir," she continued," I remember that I often 
 left my companions to engage in prayer ; and as I grew up, 
 and went into the fields to work with other young people, 
 I have sometimes been so full of thought and anxiety about 
 my soul that I have spoken of what I was thinking aloud, 
 and now and then uttered a short prayer : upon which my 
 companions genersflly laughed, and called me by some 
 1* ^
 
 6 
 
 nickname. My greatest delight, sir, was to go to church ; 
 and as I had a very good memory," proofs of which she 
 frequently gave me in the course of my visits, " I was able 
 to remember a great many texts of Scripture, which I used 
 to think of when I was by myself. I recollect to this hour, 
 sir, some of the sermons I heard when I was quite young. 
 At that time my great desire was to become prepared ta 
 partake of the Lord's supper ; and I often begged some of 
 my friends to read to me upon the subject. After this I 
 learned to read myself, and oh ! what a great blessing I 
 have found it to read the word of God !" 
 
 The preceding account of the early feelings and dispo- 
 sitionsof this poor young woman, satisfied me that the grace 
 of God had visited her heart, and had long been drawing 1 
 her to an acquaintance with himself, and with her Redeem- 
 er. How highly should we prize these Divine impressions 
 and attractions in our own cases, and how anxious should 
 we be to cherish and improve them in others ! But, alas ! 
 how often are they neglected, and checked by some sinful 
 pursuit, or worldly object ; until God in his all-wise and 
 merciful providence interposes for our deliverance ! Thus 
 it was with the humble subject of this narrative. After the 
 promising beginning which has been mentioned, the vani- 
 ties of youth, and the evil communications of these with 
 whom she lived in service, led her away from God and re- 
 ligion, and though preserved from gross sins, she lived 
 some years in a careless and worldly manner. " What a 
 mercy it was, sir," said she, while mentioning this unhap- 
 py period, " that I was not cut off in the midst of it, with- 
 out repentance and preparation for eternity ! I bless God 
 that he has been pleased to spare me, though he has brought 
 me into the affliction in which you see me." " Pray," said 
 I, " what circumstances roused you to serious thought after 
 you had thus been living in a negligent way?" " Several 
 things happened, sir, to bring about this blessed change in 
 
 me. Mr. N came to be minister at H , and his 
 
 sermons went to my heart ; and not to mine only, but to 
 my poor aged mother's and to one of my sister's. Then, 
 sir, not long after, this dear sister died, of the same disorder 
 that I am now in and so peacefully, so happily, that no- 
 body could doubt of her having gone to heaven. Her 
 death was greatly blessed to me ; and I have often prayed 
 !hat mine might be like it."
 
 Perceiving that she began to be fatigued, I was unwil- 
 ling to prolong the conversation at this time farther than to 
 ask her whether she had been much in the habit of prayer. 
 She replied that she had : " but now, sir," continued she, 
 ft that I am so weak, I am sometimes hardly able to use 
 my voice for any length of time ; but I pray with my heart 
 continually ; and when I lie awake at night, this is my 
 great support and comfort. I think, too, at such times, of 
 many texts of Scripture which I know by heart, and they 
 are greatly blessed to my soul." At her earnest request, I 
 now prayed with her, and was much struck with the re- 
 markable seriousness and fervour with which she joined in 
 my petitions. When I had ended, I urged upon her the 
 duty of self examination, and frequent applications to the 
 throne of grace for " repentance and remission of sins ;" 
 and was about to leave her, when the physician, who was 
 attending her, came in. After he had visited his patient, 
 I inquired his opinion of her case, and was grieved to find 
 that he entertained no expectation of her recovery ; griev- 
 ed not on her own account for after what I had just wit- 
 nessed, I could not but believe that she was ripening for 
 heaven but for her husband, and her infant, who were 
 about shortly to be deprived of so valuable a wife and mother ; 
 and for myself, who was likely so soon to lose a parishioner, 
 whose example, were she spared, might prove eminently 
 beneficial to all around her. Though I could not but re'- 
 gret this melancholy prospect, yet joy and gratitude were 
 the predominant feelings in my mind on leaving the cottage. 
 I had entered it full of anxiety, doubt, and apprehension ; 
 fearing that I should only find fresh cause for lamenting 
 the wretched state of those who are ignorant of themselves 
 and of Jesus Christ, and who are wholly unprepared for a 
 dying bed. I quitted it not only relieved of this burden, 
 but rejoicing in the awakened, humbled, spiritual frame of 
 mind which its afflicted inhabitant discovered, and feeling 
 inexpressibly gratified at so unexpected a result of rny first 
 parochial visit. Full of the interesting reflections whic.li 
 this occurrence had excited in my mind, I returned home- 
 wards. My thoughts were chiefly occupied with tlie love 
 of God in the redemption of a ruined world : in the suf- 
 ferings and death of his only begotten Son : with the love 
 of that gracious Redeemer, who came into the world to save 
 sinners ; with the grace of the Hclv Spirit who vouchsafes
 
 s 
 
 to apply this salvation effectually to the soul. While medi- 
 tating on these sacred and inestimable truths, I could not 
 help thinking how superior was the happiness of my poor 
 parishioner, in the midst of all her poverty, distress, and 
 pain, to that of the wealthy, the prosperous, and the gay, 
 who "live without God in the world;" who, satisfied with 
 themselves and with worldly pleasures "for a season," 
 neglect their immortal souls, and neither seek nor desire an 
 interest in the redemption which is in Christ Jesus. " Sure- 
 ly," thought I, " one thing is indeed needful, and M has 
 
 chosen that good part which shall never be taken away 
 from her." I am thankful also that I have thus early been 
 honoured with the opportunity of ministering to the edi- 
 fication and comfort of one, who will, 1 doubt not, prove 
 an heir of salvation. 
 
 The reader will readily believe that I did not long delay 
 a second visit to my poor parishioner. Although I was in 
 a great measure satisfied as to her sincerity, and could not 
 reasonably doubt that ^he was a child of God, I was anx- 
 ious to ascertain the effects of my first visit, and to admin- 
 ister all the instructions and consolations which could be 
 crowded within the apparently short remnant of her days. 
 Jt was on the following sabbath that I again directed my 
 steps to the village. As I approached it " the sound of 
 the church going bell" was collecting my little congrega- 
 tion. I could not therefore proceed to the cottage, till I 
 had closed the morning service, and dismissed my little 
 ilock with that impressive and truly pastoral blessing, 
 which it were to be wished might never be repeated with- 
 out the fervour, or heard without the interest, which it so 
 justly deserves. I then hastened to my sick parishioner. 
 The door was opened to me by her husband, a remarkably 
 fine healthy looking young man. " How is your wife," 
 said I, " to day 1" " Very ill, sir." " Worse than when 1 
 saw her on Thursday?" " Rather weaker, sir." " Shall I 
 walk up stairs ?" " If you please, sir ; she will be very 
 
 glad to see you." M appeared truly so. "I am sorry 
 
 to hear that you feel weaker than when I saw you last." 
 " I do, indeed, sir ; but it is the will of God, and it is my 
 sincere desire that his will, and not mine, should be done." 
 " Whatever his will may be," said I, " be assured that it is 
 the best." " I know, sir," she replied, " that all things 
 work together for good to them that love God." " Do you
 
 think that you are of that happy number 1 " I cannot but 
 hope so, sir. God knows that I love him. I am grieved 
 that I have not served him as I ought, and that I cannot 
 love him better ; but I often think, sir, if it should please 
 God to spare my life, and raise me up again, how careful 
 I will be not to offend him how I will try to serve and 
 please him." " I trust you would ; but since you have not 
 done this, as you ought, before, why do you think you 
 should do so hereafter ?" " Sir, I know that my heart is very 
 weak and deceitful, and that I cannot do any thing good of 
 myself; but I hope I have learnt much trom this illness, I 
 see the vanity of every thing but religion, and I think that, 
 with God's assistance I should lead a more Christian liie." 
 " Have you thought much of what I said to you when I 
 was here before ?" " I have thought of little else, sir." 
 "And do you believe that your repentance for your past 
 sins is quite sincere?" " I do indeed hope that it is." " Do 
 you feel any real sorrow on account of them, and any in- 
 ward hatred and dread of sin ?" " I think I feel, sir, some- 
 thing of that broken and contrite heart, which God will not 
 despise." Perceiving unusual symptoms of uneasiness about 
 her, I asked her if she was much in pain. " Oh yes, sir, 
 but what is my pain to that which my Saviour suffered 
 upon the cross ? He was for many hours upon the rack 
 and had none to comfort him ; but I have deserved a great 
 deal more than I suffer, and have many mercies." Soon 
 after this, her husband who had till now been present, left 
 
 the room, when I took the opportunity of asking M 
 
 whether he thought or felt in any manner as she did upon 
 religious subjects. She shook her head at this question, 
 and sighed as she answered, " I wish I could say he did, sir; 
 but I cannot my husband is a very sober, honest, well- 
 behaved man, but I am sorry to say he knows but little 
 about religion." " How then," said I, " came you to think 
 of marrying him ?" " Because I was a vain and foolish girl, 
 sir ; but I have been sorely chastised for it. I have known 
 but very little happiness since I married. My husband, 
 though kind and civil, has never liked to join with me in 
 living as Christians should ; and his family are all worldly 
 people ; and living so close to them I have been greatly 
 tried. I have earnestly desired to say, with Joshua, " As 
 for me and my house we will serve the Lord;" but when 
 I have asked my husband to hear me read the Bible, (for 
 
 68
 
 20 
 
 he is no scholar himself,) he would only tell me it was 
 enough to go to church on Sundays. I used to tell my hus- 
 band that we could not expect the blessing of God upon us, 
 if we did not worship and serve him , and often when he has 
 been going to lie down at night, without prayer, I have said 
 to him, " Oh John, how can you go to rest without begging 
 God's forgiveness and protection ! Suppose your soul should 
 this night be required of you! do you think you should 
 awake in heaven ?" " Sometimes when I have spoken thus, 
 sir, I could prevail upon him to pray a few words ; but at 
 other times, he would bid me hold my tongue and go to sleep. 
 Oh ! sir, I cannot tell you what I have suffered on his account ; 
 and his family are all of the same way of thinking; but I 
 hope you will be abie to do them some good. All these things 
 have made them not very kind to me ; but I have much to 
 be forgiven myself, sir, and I freely forgive them. Indeed, 
 weak as I am, I would go down upon my knees to every 
 one of them, if I could do them any good." In the midst 
 of this interesting conversation, we were interrupted by 
 the arrival of two of her sisters, who had come from distant 
 villages to see her They were considerably older than 
 my parishioner, and manifested an affectionate concern for 
 her, which highly gratified me. It is one of the disadvan- 
 tages of poverty, that it is in general apt to chill the cur- 
 rent of the social and domestic feelings, and to produce a 
 hardness and insensibility, which increase rather than di-t 
 minish its other attendant evils. In the present case I was 
 delighted to observe all the warmth of tenderness, and 
 liveliness of sympathy, which more frequently distinguish 
 those who are somewhat elevated above the lowest rank 
 of life, called forth into exercise towards the afflicted sub- 
 ject of this narrative. After the first inquiries of these kind 
 relatives were over, I was about to propose that we should 
 unite in prayer, when my parishioner said that she had a 
 particular favour to beg of me. " What is that?" said I. 
 " You know, sir, Friday is Christmas day, and I suppose 
 you will administer the Lord's supper. I have been looking 
 forward for a long time in the hope that I should be well 
 enough to go to church, and join in that holy communion. 
 
 The last time, sir, I ever saw Mr. P , he talked to me 
 
 a good while upon the subject, and gave me a book to read 
 upon it. Though I had always a great desire to receive the 
 JLord's supper, I have been afraid of taking it unworthily.
 
 11 
 
 JT am indeed not worthy to pick np tJic crumbs under 
 my Master's table ; but Jesus said, " Except ye eat the flesh 
 and drink the blood of the Son of man ye have no life in 
 you." " True," said I ; " but do you think, that by merely 
 receiving the Lord's supper you will have this life ?" " No, 
 sir, I know that I must have a true faith in Christ." " Yes, 
 you must feed on him, ' in your heart, by faith with thanks- 
 giving.' " " That is my sincere desire, sir. God knows 
 ho a' laniestttj I hare longed for an opportunity of going to 
 
 tin Lord's table. You know,, sir, Mr. P was taken ill 
 
 just before the last time it was to be administered in our 
 church, and I have been confined almost ever since ; but 
 now, if you think I am in a fit state to receive the supper, I 
 should feel it to be the greatest blessing and comfort, if you 
 would be so kind as to give it to me on Friday." Upon this, I 
 read to her several passages of Scripture, together with 
 parts of the communion service which particularly mention 
 the qualifications of acceptable communicants : and'after 
 (.on versing some time longer on the subject, and telling her 
 that I should willingly comply with her request on Christ- 
 mas day, I asked who would partake of it with her. " I ex- 
 pect," said M , " that my poor dear mother will be here, 
 if she can bear the journey ; and she will, I am sure, be glad 
 to join withme." " And will not your Initband ?" said I, who 
 was now returned to the sick room. " Oh ! how I wish he 
 would come and embrace his Saviour," answered his wife. 
 " Will you not, John '?" I reminded him that he must soon 
 part with his dear wife ; and that by joining her in the work 
 of religion here, he would enjoy an earnest of a blessed 
 union hereafter. " I am in great trouble,'! he replied, " and 
 scarcely know how to think of any thing." " But/' said I, 
 "you should at least think of religion, for it is God only who 
 can comfort you ; and the illness of your wife is a call to 
 you to turn to him. Jesus also invites you, now that you 
 are in trouble, to come to him for rest." He seemed t6 
 feel the truth of what I said ; but partly from ignorance, 
 and partly from that corruption which always opposes the 
 turning of the heart to God, he held back from saying any 
 i hing more. How common, and yet how lamentable a case 
 is this ? Men neglect and refuse to make God their friend : 
 and when, amid the various changes of this mortal life, they 
 fall into distress, they know not what to do, or whither to 
 fl.ee for support and comfort. I closed this second visit bv 
 
 68
 
 12 
 
 praying with this afflicted party assembled in the sick room. 
 
 M joined in every petition with a degree of animation 
 
 and fervour which I have seldom seen surpassed, and, ex- 
 pressed her gratitude in a manner which left no room to 
 doubt the reality of a Divine work in her heart. On 
 leaving the room, I gave her a copy of " The Dairyman's 
 Daughter," thinking that she might derive both instruction 
 and comfort from a history which exhibits some circum- 
 stances very similar to those of her own case. I was, how- 
 ever, agreeably surprised to find that the benevolent phy- 
 sician, whom I had met on my first visit, had been beforehand 
 with me in this present. " I have contrived to read part 
 
 of that little book, sir," said M " though not without 
 
 difficulty. That young woman died of the disorder which 
 I have. She was a true Christian, sir, and I have been 
 much comforted by many things that are related of her, 
 God grant that I may be like her." " I trust," said I, 
 '' that by the grace of God you will be like her both living 
 and dying. Fix your faith and love on the same gracious 
 Saviour in whom she trusted, and you will enjoy similar 
 peace and consolation, and the same blessed hope of eter- 
 nal happiness ! God bless you M , may he support, 
 
 sanctify and comfort you, while you remain here below, 
 and make you daily better prepared for the heavenly 
 world." " God bless you, sir," was the reply, " for all 
 your kind instructions and prayers. I cannot tell you how 
 much they have comforted me." 
 
 About two days after my second visit to M , I wa? 
 
 told that some one from S , the village in which she 
 
 lived, wished to see me. As I had desired her to send for 
 some little comforts, which her humble circumstances 
 could not afford, I took ibr granted that this was her mes- 
 senger ; but instead of the person whom I expected on this 
 
 errand, I was surprised to find that it was M 's mother. 
 
 whom my reader may recollect she told me she was hoping 
 shortly to see. She was a decent looking old woman, with 
 an air of peculiar meekness and gravity, and apparently 
 bending more under the weight of trouble than of years. 
 " Pray rest yourself," said I, as she was attempting to rise. 
 " You must be tired, after your long walk." " A little, 
 sir," was the reply; " but more distressed by my poor dear 
 daughter's illness." "How is she to day?" "Very ill 
 indeed, sir ; she cannot hold it long. T think." " I fear
 
 13 
 
 riot," said I i <l but do not be too much distressed. Your 
 daughter is, I trust, a real Christian, and preparing for a 
 better world ?" "Ah, sir, I trust she is. She is follow- 
 ing her dear sister, who died about two years ago. Thank 
 God, she was ready to go, and no doubt she is in heaven ; 
 
 and my poor dear M is very like her ; but it is a great 
 
 affliction to lose such good children in my old age." "Il 
 is, indeed," I replied ; " and i feel much for you. I 
 have lost children, too, though not grown up ; but although 
 it is a heavy trial, the blessed hope of their being happy for 
 ever in heaven is an unspeakable consolation. Now a? 
 far as I am able to judge, I think your daughter is a true- 
 believer in Jesus Christ, and interested in his salvation/ 
 " It is a great comfort to me to hear you say so, sir. In- 
 deed I do think so myself. She was always inclined to 
 religion from a child ; but she has attended more to it 
 within the last two or three years than ever." " She ap- 
 pears to me," said I, " to be in a very hopeful frame of 
 mind. I cannot look into her heart ; but if she is sincere 
 in her professions, I cannot but think that she is in the 
 Way to heaven." " Why, to be sure, sir, as you say, we 
 cannot look into the heart ; but it is of no use to pretend 
 
 to religion, if we are not sincere in it : and so I tell M , 
 
 and indeed I think she is sincere." " Pray when did you 
 come to see your daughter V " Last Sunday, sir, just after 
 you left her. I have been in a great deal of trouble about 
 walking over on the sabbath ; but I trust the Lord will for- 
 give me, if I did wrong. I did not hear till then, that she 
 was so ill, and put offcoming to see her as long as possible, 
 for the journey is almost too much for me at my age ; but I 
 was afraid I should hardly see her alive, if I did not set oft' 
 directly, or be stopped next day by the weather, this winter 
 time ; and all the way I came, my thoughts were taken up 
 with God and heavenly things." " Indeed," said I, much 
 struck with the tenderness of conscience displayed by the 
 poor old woman, " 1 think this is a case in which God would 
 have ' mercy and not sacrifice.' You know your Saviour 
 graciously allows us to perform acts of necessity, mercy, and 
 charity, on the sabbath ; and I doubt not that he freely for- 
 gives your journey to see your poor sick daughter , especially 
 as you seem to have so sincere a desire to serve and please 
 him. Pray have you long thought so seriously upon reli- 
 gion V " Not so long, sir, as I could wish I had. The for- 
 es 2
 
 14 
 
 .uicr part of my life Was too much taken tip with the <utre^r 
 of the world, and the labour of bringing up a large family ; 
 but I had much affliction of late years, and it has pleased 
 God to teach me many things concerning his Son Jesus 
 Christ, a<id the salvation of my soul ; and I bless his holy 
 name for giving me the opportunity, in my old age, of 
 attending to these things." "Is your husband living?" "Oh 
 no, sir ; I have been a widow some years, and now I have a 
 
 very comfortable dwelling in an alms house at H , 
 
 where I have time to read my Bible, and think of my latter 
 end. But I should never have known or felt so much about 
 
 religion, if it had not been for Mr. N , the minister of 
 
 our parish. Hejs a good gentleman, and takes a deal of 
 pains with us poor people both in the pulpit and out of it 
 He was of great use to my daughters, and I hope one of 
 my sons is'turning after them." " Well, my aged friend," 
 I replied, "next to that first and greatest gift of his Soil 
 Jesus Christ to be our Saviour, God's chief mercy to us is 
 an interest in iiim for ourselves ; and since he has been 
 pleased to bestow this unspeakable blessing upon you and 
 your poor sick daughter, comfort yourself with this thought. 
 He has done more even for your present happiness, by the 
 gift of his SOQ, than if he had bestowed the whole world 
 upon you without him ; and although you have had many 
 "trials, and are now again about to suffer affliction, in the 
 loss of another of your children, yet be assured, that ali 
 these things are wisely and graciously ordered, and art- 
 working together for your good. A time will shortly come 
 in which you will see this more clearly when your mourn- 
 ing shall be turned into joy, and sorrow and sighing shall 
 flee away for ever." ' " What you say, sir, greatly comfort 
 me, and I am truly thankful that you have been so kind ft 
 visit my daughter, and to give her so much good instruc- 
 tion and consolation. I understand you mean to adminis- 
 ter the Lord's supper to her on Christmas day. She talk? 
 much of it, and is very anxious to receive it." " That is 
 my intention," said I ; " and I hope that you will partake 
 of it with hejr," " I shall be very glad to do so.especially 
 as I shall not be able to be at church." " I trust," I addet?, 
 v< that the celebration of that holy ordinance will be nweh 
 Blessed to us all, particularly to your daughter; and that 
 Christ m iy be present "'in us to seal his dying love upoft 
 ocx ned*ts." " Indcf d, 1 humbly pray that He raav r>?',
 
 15 
 
 4ir/ J The good old woman had now vested herself alter 
 the fatigue of her walk, and, after a little farther refresh- 
 jpaent, prepared to return to her daughter's cottage. 1 
 could not help regarding her with a peculiar pleasure 
 Truly, "the hoary head is a crown of glory if it be found 
 in the way of righteousness." But how wretched is an 
 old age of carelessness, worldliness, and irreligion ! On 
 it, even if the outward circumstances be ever so prosper- 
 ous, death must indeed heavily fall, " and double terror 
 own ;" while to the aged Christian " at even time it shall 
 be light." Although like the poor and afflicted mother 
 whom I have been just describing, we may be called upon 
 to part from the dearest objects of our affections, yet the 
 separation will be, at the utmost, but short ; and the re- 
 union, if previously united by a living faith to the Re* 
 deemer, unspeakably delightful, " where there shall be no 
 more death, neither sorrow nor sighing: neither shall 
 there be any more pain; for the former things" shall have 
 " passed away." . 
 
 On the Friday following the preceding conversation with 
 M's. mother, being Christmas day, I repaired to my village 
 church to celebrate that truly joyful festival ; and to unite 
 with it the commemoration of the death of that gracious 
 Saviour, at the recollection of whose birti; we had pre- 
 viously rejoiced. Although the morning was unusually 
 cold, the beams of the winter's sun were bright and cheer- 
 ing, and seemed to hail t';e return of that hallowed season. 
 in which, with so much propriety, we are invited to express 
 our gratitude for the dawning of that " Day Spring from 
 n high" which can alone " guide our feet into the way ol 
 peace." My little flock assembled in the house of God ; 
 and while our thanksgivings and prayers ascended, I trust 
 with acceptance before the throne of grace, the hearts oi 
 some at least among us were, I hope, wanned by our medi- 
 tations on the angelic anthem which so clearly and beau- 
 tifully describes the blessed effects of the Saviour's birth : 
 " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good 
 will towards men." The table of the Lord's supper wa> 
 next approached, where, in unison with multitude 
 brethren throughout the world, we again joined in that ci* 
 alted hymn ; and together with our praises for the finished 
 work of redemption, offered up our supplication to liijn 
 ihat sitteth " at the right hand of God the Father" to " hay.--
 
 ie 
 
 uiercy upon us," and to " receive our prayers." The de- 
 lightful service of the sanctuary being thus ended, I pro- 
 ceeded to the cottage of ray poor sick friend ; and, as it 
 was very near the church, the clerk followed with the sa- 
 cred provisions of which we had just partaken at the pub- 
 Jic communion, 
 
 I found M. anxiously expecting us. Her little chamber 
 had been made as neat as possible for the occasion ; and in 
 one corner of it a napkin was spread on the table, at which 
 we were to commemorate the last supper of our Lord. 
 There is something peculiarly solemn and affecting in 
 every celebration of this holy institution ; but the interest 
 of the service has always appeared to me to be greatly 
 heightened, when administered to the sick and dying Chris- 
 tian. Much as these sacred mysteries have been abused 
 by superstition, and vainly relied on by ignorance and self 
 righteousness, there does seem to me to be an eminent 
 propriety in exhibiting to the departing believer, " Jesus 
 Christ, and him crucified," jn the evident and significant 
 symbols of the Lord's supper. The weakness of nature, 
 oppressed by mortal disease and pain, then especially re- 
 quires the assistance of these outward memorials ; and 
 although the appetite for " the bread which perisheth," 
 may now be nearly extinct ; yet the desire for that " which 
 camo down from heaven," and " endureth unto everlasting 
 life," which " the Son of man giveth," may perhaps be 
 more than ever lively and sincere. The Christian, there^ 
 fore, entering on the last stage of his earthly pilgrimage, 
 is generally and justly anxious to be supplied with that 
 sacred provision, which is to cheer his fainting spirits, and 
 to support his weary steps in the dark valley of the shadow 
 of death. With this blessed table spread before him, and 
 with the presence and guidance of the great Master of the 
 feast, he fears no evil ; his rod and his staff, they comfort 
 him. 
 
 It was under these impressions that I met and found 
 my poor parishioner. To my inquiries as to her bodily 
 health, she replied that she felt herself rapidly declining ; 
 but that she was much more peaceful and happy in her 
 mind than she had ever been before. " I have been long- 
 ing, sir, for this day to come ; for I can truly say with my 
 Saviour himself, ' With desire have I desired to eat this 
 passover before I suffer.' " '*! rejoice to hear you say soj 1
 
 17 
 
 fcuid I j l( and now let us pray that Christ may be psesenj: 
 with us, by his Spirit, to bless us." " I have been praying 
 for this, sir, before you came, and I do hope and believe 
 that he will be with us ; for I come to him as a poor pe- 
 rishing sinner, and put my .whole trust in him for pardoji 
 .ind salvation. , I have been thinking this morning of his 
 Jove in coming down from heaven to save us ; and how 
 much he suffered, that we might not perish, but have 
 everlasting life ; and now I rejoice in this opportunity of 
 receiving the memorials of his broken body and his shed 
 blood. Ah ! sir, you see my poor husband does not take 
 it with me ; but I earnestly hope that when I am gone_, 
 God will give him grace to become a true Christian." 
 
 We now prepared for our affecting service. M., her 
 poor aged mother, myself, and my clerk, were alone pre- 
 sent. M. desired to be lifted up in the bed, that she might 
 join in the communion with as much solemnity and atten- 
 tion as her extreme weakness ivould allow. She was ac- 
 cordingly supported as well as circumstances admitted j 
 and emaciated as she was, the delusive colour in her 
 cheeks, and the brilliancy of her eyes, animated partly by 
 the fatal fire of disease, and partly by the more serene 
 fervour of devotion, rendered her an interesting object of. 
 contemplation. "We began our supplications to Him, who 
 corrects those whom he loves, and chastises every one 
 whom he receives, that he would have mercy upon her 
 who was now visited by his hand, grant that she might 
 take her sickness patiently, and recover her bodily health, 
 (if such were his gracious will,) and that whensoever her 
 soul should depart from the body, it might be without spot 
 presented unto Him through Jesus Christ our Lord. We 
 read the consoling admonition of the apostle, in the twelfth 
 chapter of the epistle to the HebreAvs, and the encourag- 
 ing and inestimable declaration of our Saviour, in the fifth 
 chapter of St. John's gospel : " Verily, verily, I say unt<* 
 you, he that heareth my word, and believetb on him that 
 sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into con- 
 demnation ; but is passed from death unto life." I shaji 
 not soon forget the devout and animated look of gratitude 
 which, with clasped hands, M. directed towards heaven. 
 While I pronounced these delightful words. I must no; 
 however, detain the reader, by detailing every step in the 
 progress f this interesting service ;, ?uffico it to say, that
 
 IS 
 
 my poor friend joined with the most marked and lively 
 devotion in every part of it, in the humbling confession of 
 sin, in the gracious declarations and promises of forgive- 
 ness through faith in the atoning blood of our Redeemer, 
 and in the glowing ascriptions of praise to Almighty God 
 ' for his unspeakable gift." The solemn and heartfelt 
 tone in which she confirmed her hope of eternal salvation 
 through the sacrifice of Christ upon the cross, as she re- 
 ceived the visible emblems of his body and blood, and the 
 tokens of his dying love, was peculiarly impressive, and sat- 
 isfied me that she was indeed" feeding on Him in her heart, 
 by faith with thanksgiving." Nor was the deportment of 
 her aged mother less striking and edifying. There was 
 in her a mingled air of grief, submission, and devout thank- 
 fulness, which encouraged the best hopes of her real piety, 
 and greatly added to the solemnity and interest of this 
 affecting scene. For myself, while my heart was lifted up 
 to Him whose death we had been commemorating, in grati- 
 tude and praise for his exceeding great love in thus dying 
 for us, and in instituting these holy mysteries, and in prayer 
 for the sanctified improvement of our late participation in 
 them, I could truly say, " Lord, it is good for me to bo 
 here." So thought my dying parishioner also ; for, as I 
 was preparing to take my leave of her, she suddenly 
 observed, " Oh ! this is more than I ever felt before.'* 
 Fearing that her exertion in sitting up, during the adminis 
 tration of the ordinance, had produced some additional 
 uneasiness, I said to her, "Is it , pain that you feel?" 
 " Oh ! no, sir ; comfort, happiness, such as I never before, 
 experienced. My Saviour is indeed with me. He is mine 
 and I am his. I cannot doubt that he will forgive and save 
 me. He knows that I love him above all things, and 
 desire to be with him ; but I am willing to wait, and to 
 suffer whatever he pleases to put upon me ; and when the 
 holy will of God is done, I hope to dwell with him for evei 
 in heaven. I am truly thankful, sir. for this blessed ordi- 
 nance and have now but little more to do or wish for as to 
 this world ; but I hope you will come and see me as long 
 as I remain here that will be a great comfort to me. Do 
 not grieve, my dear mother;," (perceiving her venerablf. 
 parent in tears,) "it is the will of God,, you know, that my 
 
 furney should be so short ; but blessed be his holy name,, 
 feel that I am in the way to heaven, and there, I hope.
 
 19 
 
 you will shortly meet me. When Mr. N- preached 
 
 poor Mr. P 's funeral sermon], sir," addressing herself 
 
 to me, '' he told us that he was gone to see the King of 
 glory ; and I trust I am going to see him also." " I trust 
 you are," said I, " and rejoice to find that you are able to 
 look forward with so delightful a hope. We have prayed 
 for this and now 1 only hope and pray, that God will 
 continue to be with you ; that he will sanctify you in body,, 
 soul and spirit, and preserve you to his heavenly kingdom." 
 
 Under the influence of these feelings, I left the cottage 
 of my poor, sick friend, and returned home with an in- 
 creased conviction of the infinite value of the gospel, and 
 still more firmly persuaded, by all that I had just seen and 
 felt, that it is the grand remedy for all the evils under 
 which mankind labour ; that it can give peace to the trou- 
 bled conscience, pardon to the guilty, rest to the weary,, 
 comfort to the afflicted, health to the sick, and even life to> 
 the dead that it is, in short, what the apostle well de- 
 scribes it, " the power of God unto salvation to every one 
 that believeth." 
 
 But I must begin to draw towards the close of my village, 
 narrative. Two days after that on which I made the visit 
 
 last described, I again saw M . During this short 
 
 interval her disease had made a rapid progress, and I 
 plainly perceived that it would soon remove her from a 
 world of pain and sorrow. Although considerably weaker, 
 and suffering more acutely than before, she expressed the 
 same humble, yet joyful hope of acceptance through hex 
 Redeemer, and her earnest desire " to depart and be with 
 Christ." " But 1 cannot help thinking, sir," said she, 
 " that I must suffer more yet, before [ can befit for heaven.'' 
 ' You do not suppose," I replied, fearing at the moment 
 that she might be imagining her sufferings to be in some 
 manner meritorious, " that the pain which you endure can 
 purchase heaven, or in itself prove profitable to you 1" 
 " Oh no, sir ; God forbid that I should trust in any thing 
 for salvation but the meritsof my Saviour. I only meant, that 
 as I was a very sinful creature, and deserve to be afflicted,, 
 and had found the benefit of pain and suffering, in wean-> 
 ing me from a vain and vvoildly life, I should probably have 
 to go through more than I have yet suffered ; but perhaps 
 I do not express myself as I ought." "There is truth," 
 said I, " in what you say. You know the scripture says',
 
 18 
 
 that Christ was made perfect through suffering ; and we 
 Tnay be well contented to be like him, if we may dwell 
 with him for ever in glory. Every member of Christ is in 
 a measure conformed or made like to him in suffering ; 
 but his alone was meritorious ours is intended to humble 
 ^nd purify us, and God knows best how much, and what 
 kind of suffering is most suited to sanctify us. He will 
 not lay upon you more than is good for you, or more than 
 he will enable you to bear. Resign yourself to him, and 
 &e assured that he will support you in every trial; and 
 make you more than conqueror, through him who hath 
 Foved us." "I trust he will, and do not doubt his goodness, 
 though I am so sinful and unworthy a creature." After a 
 
 short pause, M continued, " I am glad to see and 
 
 hear you again, sir, for my poor mother was obliged to 
 ?eave me yesterday, and the neighbours who are kind 
 enough to come and see me, talk almost entirely about 
 worldly things ; and I tell them, I have done with the 
 \vorld, and only wish to think and speak of what concerns 
 the salvation of my soul. Indeed, I have but one thing 
 Which gives me much anxiety ; and that is about my poor, 
 dear babe. I used to think how happy I should be when 
 I had irn ; but I have never had health to enjoy him, and 
 now I must very soon be parted from him for ever as te 
 this world! Poor, dear little fellow, I can resign him 
 cheerfully sometimes, when he is away from me ; but, as 
 soon as I sec him, it goes to my very heart." " I do not doubt 
 it," replied I. " It is, indeed, a painful task for you to 
 Jeave him so young, in a world like this, but his father 
 and grandmother will no doubt be kind to him, and take 
 all the care of him in their power, and he shall not want 
 a friend. Entrust him in the hands of your heavenlv 
 Pather. He will take him up, though every other friend 
 should forsake him, and will not suffer him to want. " I 
 have been young," said the psalmist, "and now ara old; 
 yet never saw I the righteous forsaken, nor his seed beg- 
 ging their bread." Hope in God, that as he had blessed you } 
 so he will also bless your offspring.' 1 ' " This is my earnest 
 grayer, sir : and I hope God will enable me to commit ray- 
 iself, my child, and my husband, into his hands, to do a.s 
 it seemeth good in his sight." My poor friend was so much 
 exhausted by her exertion during this conversation 
 jltheigh itwas comparatively a short one, that! was obliges
 
 21 
 
 to close my visit more quickly than usual, which I did b/ 
 reading a few passages of Scripture suited to her state, and! 
 commending her in prayer to the mercy and grace of God! 
 our Saviour. As I was leaving the room, she repeated her 
 earnest requests that I would remember her in my prayers., 
 and that I would visit her during the short remainder ot" 
 Jjer earthly pilgrimage ; adding, with a sort of prophetic 
 feeling, that if she should not live to see nie again, she 
 trusted that through the merits of that blessed Redeemer, 
 iu whom we believed, we should meet in heaven. See 
 \\er, indeed, again, I did ; but I regret to say, that it was 
 only during the state of extreme weakness and insensi- 
 bility, into which she suddenly fell a few days after my 
 last interview with her. I was prevented by a heavy fall of 
 KIIOW from repeating my visit till the following sabbath ; 
 when, on reaching the cottage, I learned, to my disap- 
 pointment and sorrow, that her powers both of mind and 
 body were nearly exhausted, and that she was wholly 
 unconscious of what passed around her. On entering her 
 room, I found that it was indeed so ; and in contemplating 
 the decay of the outward form, I could only rejoice that, 
 I had witnessed the renewal of " the inward man" day by 
 day; that although the "earthly house of her tabernacle" 
 was nearly dissolved, there was such solid ground for 
 believing that she would shortly inhabit " a building ot 
 God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." 
 
 The mother of M not having been able, from the 
 
 fatigue of her former journey, to return to her, I could 
 collect but little from those who attended her, of the frame 
 of her mind during the short interval of sensibility which 
 followed my preceding visit. The little, however, which 
 J did gather, was pleasing and satisfactory. I found that, 
 being aware of her approaching end, she called for her 
 Husband and other relatives who were near, and took a 
 solemn and affectionate farewell of them, declaring, iu 
 humble yet forcible terms, her reconciliation with God r 
 and her hope of salvation through faith in our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, and earnestly exhorting arid beseeching them to 
 flee for refuge to the same gracious and all sufficient Sa- 
 viour. She then desired to see her little boy, and com- 
 mended him to the protection and blessing of Almighty- 
 God, charging her husband to bring him up in " the nur- 
 ture and admonition of the Lord ;" and having aTjain urged.
 
 22 
 
 "tfiem to attend to the things which belong to their peace., 
 while the day of life lasted, she said that she had nothing 
 farther to do in this world, but humbly to wait for the time 
 of her departure , adding, that she prayed to be entirely 
 patient and resigned, and hoped that I should see her once 
 more to assist her in preparing for her last trying conflict. 
 'This, however, I was prevented by her unconscious state 
 #om doing, otherwise than by my prayers in her behalf. 
 After I left her, she revived only for a few moments, during 
 wnich she faintly but delightfully repeated her faith and 
 liope of salvation ; and soon afterwards slept peacefully in 
 the Lord ; leaving on the minds of those who witnessed 
 her departure, a lively impression of her extraordinary 
 piety and heavenly happiness. 
 
 The funeral of my poor parishioner took place on the 
 following sabbath. The journey was too great to allow 
 &f her aged parent being present ; but it was attended by 
 a crowd of relatives, who testified, by their grief and regret, 
 the affection with which they loved her, and the sincerity 
 with which they mourned her loss. A village funeral is 
 always solemn and affecting. The absence of that osten- 
 tatious and misplaced pomp, which accompanies the inter- 
 ment of the great, tends at once to soften and impress the 
 mind ; and where, as in the present instance, a well- 
 grounded hope can be entertained of the happiness of the 
 departed, the contrast between the consignment of the 
 poor remains to the lowly grave, and the recollection of the 
 heavenly glory to which the emancipated spirit has been 
 exalted, is productive of feelings and reflections of the 
 most touching, yet animating nature. I endeavoured to 
 improve this solemn and instructive occasion, from the 
 pulpit ; and trust, that our meditations on the frailty of 
 -man, and the inestimable value of that word of the Lord 
 which endureth for ever, aud which, by the gospel, is 
 preached unto us, were not altogether in vain. 
 
 I might detain the reader yet longer by adding some 
 of the reflections which this subject has suggested to me. 
 But I will only repeat that the preceding memorial affords, 
 another testimony to the inestimable value of the gospel, 
 which thus evidently triumphed over poverty, disease, and 
 death itself; and proved the source of pardon, peace, holi- 
 ness, hope, and joy, to one who possessed but little of this 
 v/prWs goods, and who, but for this heavenjy treasiire.
 
 23- 
 
 would have been poor indeed ! The example, too, of Cfiis 
 interesting young woman, is noj; only an additional evi-- 
 dence of the capability of those who are in the lowesf 
 ranks of life, to understand and receive the great doctrines" 
 of the gospel, but of the nature and efficacy of Divine 
 teaching. My departed parishioner was but little acquaint- 
 ed with human forms and professions of religion. She 
 was taught and drawn of God, and received, with the- 
 simplicity of faith and love that engrafted word which was 
 able to save her soul. While, therefore, I would particu- 
 larly hold out the example of her piety, as an encourage* 
 % raent to my clerical brethren to persevere in their parochial 
 labours and to hope for similar proofs of the power and 
 reality of religion among the poor of their flocks, let us r 
 Whether rich or poor, whether old or young, diligently* 
 inquire as to the nature of our own knowledge, faith, and 
 practice. Let us examine the foundation upon which we 
 are building our hopes of sal ation, remembering that the 
 hour cannot be far distant which will try its stability to 
 the utmost. I know not that I can express a better wish, 
 than that we may all possess the deep humility, firm faith, 
 animated hope, and heavenly temper, which I beheld^ anil 
 have thus imperfectly described, in "the Cottager's wife;' 7 ' 
 tvho, to adopt Cowper's beautiful lines, 
 
 '' Just knew, and knew no more, her Bible true 
 A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew ; 
 And in that Charter read, with sparkling eyes 
 Her title to a treasure in the skies. 
 Oh, bless'd effect of penury and want, 
 The seed sown there how vigorous the plant ' 
 The light they walk by, kindled from above, 
 Shows them the shortest way to life and love, 
 They, strangers to the controversial field, 
 Where Deists, always foiled, yet scorned to yield! 
 And never checked by what impedes the wise, 
 Believe, rusk forward, and poss&s tJle prize.'"
 
 HYMN. 
 
 To God, the Creator of all,. 
 
 My earliest tribute I pay ; 
 On him with humility call, 
 
 And promise his laws to obey. 
 J promise, alas ! but in vain, 
 
 Unless he his Spirit bestow, 
 From folly and sin to restrain, 
 
 And keep me wherever I go. 
 
 Oh, Father of mercies, attend, 
 
 (Though now I in ignorance cry,) 
 And teach me on him to depend, 
 
 My advocate there in the sky ; 
 "Whatever I ask in the name 
 
 Of Jesus, I hear shall be done^ 
 As due to that innocent Lamb, 
 
 As claim'd by thine heavenly Son. 
 
 To me thy compassion extend, 
 
 For the sake of thy heavenly Son, 
 From Satan and sin to defend, 
 
 And a world full of evil unknown. 
 An invisible enemy's power 
 
 Ever near to destroy me I have,, 
 A lion intent to devour ; 
 
 Let mercy be nearer to save. 
 'That mercy I languish to feel, 
 
 If mercy infuse the desire, 
 My need of a Saviour reveal, 
 
 My soul with the hunger inspire ; 
 Oh, Father, thy child now allure, 
 
 In a way that I never have known, 
 And me by thy Spirit assure, 
 
 That mercy and Jesus are one. 
 
 PBBtlSHED ET N. BANGS AND J. EMORY, 
 
 y of the Methodist Epi 
 ence Office, 14 Crosby 
 
 Azca: Hoyt, Printer. 
 
 For the Tract Society of the Methodist Episcopal Cfturch at the" 
 Conference Office, 14 Crosby-street.
 
 NO. 69. 
 
 CHRISTIAN EDUCATION. 
 
 AN ADDRESS TO PARENTS, BY A LADY. 
 
 KNOWING the responsibility of your situation as it re- 
 gards the young immortals who are committed to your 
 charge ; and desirous of adding my , mite to the useful 
 labours of those who devote their thrfe and talents to the 
 welfare of the rising generation; I have with much prayer 
 and an ardent desire that it may be nsefuj, ventured to 
 address a few pages to you as their parents and protectors. 
 
 It will be readily admitted by you, that the present life 
 is intended as a preparation for that gi^at and eternal 
 state of being, to which we are hastened with a constant 
 and progressive motion ; and as it is your wish that your 
 children should be borne safely down the stream of life 
 to the haven of everlasting repose that they should oc- 
 cupy one of the " many mansions," which Christ himself 
 has prepared for those who in this life obtain the remis- 
 sion of their sins ; we should inquire into the nature of 
 their associations in that blissful existence which you 
 fondly hope they may attain hereafter ; a God of infinite 
 purity of infinite wisdom of infinite holiness; angels 
 whose high destinies are to do his will ; saints who have 
 conquered the lusts of the flesh, resisted the vain and 
 wicked allurements of this earth ; and martyrs who have 
 triumphed over the love of every earthly object, and who 
 'counted not even their own lives dear unto them, so 
 that they might finish their course with joy ;" patriarchs, 
 prophets, and apostles, glowing with a seraphic flame, and 
 having had their lips " touched with a live coal from off" 
 the altar ;" men of every language, and of every people ; 
 beings esseetially different brought together by one theme, 
 united by one tie, distinguished by one feature the love 
 of God, " the bond of perfectness," the character of 
 devotion. And since in heaven holiness is so essential, 
 since it gives the soul a meetness of her Maker's presence, 
 how important it is that you bring up your families in " the 
 nurture and the admonition of the Lord." In doing this 
 you will find much wit'h which to combat ; all the rrpr-
 
 versity of their natural dispositions will oppose you ; aS 
 of mere human policy will oppose you, and the world of 
 fashion, with its thousand votaries, will exclaim again^ 
 .you, and human prudence will plead for her exceptions, 
 while your own fallen nature will aid and abet all that the 
 world, with its many enthusiasts, and fashion with her 
 thousand votaries, and human prudence with her cavilling 
 exceptions can offer, and unless divinely supported your 
 hearts will yield, tamely yield to their blandishments; and 
 instead of being candidates for heaven and its immortal 
 glories, your offspring will be candidates merely for earth 
 and its fain perishable honours; and instead of an educa- 
 tion for eternity, you will give them one for time alone 
 short fleeting time ! 
 
 I need not prove to you that all these enemies will be 
 raised to oppose a line of conduct so obviously marked 
 out in the word of God, for you know that " the whole 
 world lieth in wickedness," that the nature of your chil- 
 dren is depraved, that your own heart requires the strictest 
 vigilance, and that human authority has swerved from the 
 authority of God, to which, in many points, it stands in 
 the most direct opposition. There is a proneness in hu- 
 man nature to view the small portion of existence which 
 we call life, as detached from that everksting duration to 
 which it is but the vestibule contemplated as a whole 
 instead of a short but important part ; the value of things 
 are entirely reversed, the things of time and of sense pre- 
 dominate over those of God and of eternity : the body also 
 in this intellectual chaos, puts in its exorbitant claims 
 upon our time and our attention, and the soul pent up 
 within its narrow cell, is not permitted to expatiate in 
 those fields of excellence which the word of God presents 
 to the eye of faith. There is a narrowing and a circum- 
 scribing influence abroad, which limits us to earth and 
 binds us fast in adamantine chains. Therefore from the 
 earliest dawn of reason teach your children that the things 
 of time are important only as they refer to eternity ; let 
 them know that " the things which are seen are temporal, 
 but the things which are not seen are eternal ;" teach them 
 that the end of their existence is not to do their own will, 
 but to " work out their salvation with fear and trem- 
 bling ;" knowing that it is "God which worketh in them, 
 both to will and to do of his own good pleasure;" let
 
 3 
 
 them feel the value of a soul for which Christ has died. 
 Let them know how deeply that soul must have been pol- 
 luted since no other sacrifice could have atoned for it, or 
 prevented its utter ruin ; teach them that the maxims of 
 the world are inimical to the way of the Lord; that "God 
 made man upright, but that he hath sought out many in- 
 ventions ;" that " we all of us are by nature the children 
 of wrath;" that the "heart is deceitful above all things, 
 and desperately wicked ;" that " all we like sheep have 
 gone astray," and have "turned every man to hisown way." 
 Tell them of the omnipresence of God; let them consider 
 him as a Father watching over them continually, and de- 
 lighting to do them good ; bid them refer all their motives 
 and actions to him as their omniscient Judge : be his 
 \vord their standard, his will their law, and think not that 
 childhood is a season too early for the reception of such 
 truths. An eloquent and impressive writer, *after speak- 
 ing of the contumacy of human nature, and of fle constant 
 efforts which are necessary in order to its subjugation to 
 human authority, says, "Now by the same means of early 
 discipline and example by which we were brought to 
 acquiesce in the government of our parents, the mastery 
 of our teachers, and the authority of life's forms and cus- 
 toms, we shall most likely be brought to acquiesce in the 
 statutes of the Lord. Just as no parent who would wish 
 his child to be a well doing member of society, would for 
 the first years of his life turn him adrift from counsel and 
 correction, but find for him masters to instruct, and pat- 
 terns to copy after, adding to all, the influence of his own 
 parental authority and affection ; even so, if you would 
 have your child to flourish in religious life you must not 
 sequester the subject of religion from your table or your 
 household, nor keep him in the dark till he arrive at years 
 of reflection ; but from the first dawn of thought or effort 
 of will, teach him with a winning voice and with a gentle 
 hand; lead him into the ways of God. The raw opinion 
 that a certain maturity of judgment must be tarried for, 
 before entering into religious conference with our chil- 
 dren, comes of that notion which pervades the religious 
 world, that religion rests upon the concoction of certain 
 questions in theology, to which mature years are neces- 
 sary ; whereas it rests upon the authority of God, which 
 a child can comprehend so soon as it can the authority of
 
 its father ; the love of Christ, which a child can compre- 
 hend so soon as it can the love of its mother : the assist- 
 ance of the Spirit, which it can comprehend so soon as it 
 is alive to the need of instruction or help of its parents ; 
 the difference between right and wrong, which it may be 
 taught so soon as it can perform the one and avoid the 
 other. There is a religion of childhood, and a religion of 
 manhood ; the former standing mostly in authority, the 
 latter in authority and reason conjoined ; the former refer- 
 ring chiefly to words and actions, the latter embracing 
 also principles and sentiments. But because you cannot 
 instil into children the full maturity of religious truth, is 
 no more argument for neglecting to travel with them in 
 religion, than it would be to refuse teaching them obe- 
 dience to yourself and respect to others, till they could 
 comprehend the principles on which parental obedience 
 and friendly respect are grounded." And surely the 
 Bible gives* more than its sanction to this early instruction 
 in the " things which make for our peace," and in the 
 most urgent manner ordains that you shall teach God's 
 law "diligently unto your children, and shalt talk of them 
 when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest 
 by the way, when thou liest down, and when thou risest 
 up, and thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, 
 and they shall be for frontlets between thine eyes, and 
 thou shalt write them upon the posts of thine house, and 
 on thy gates." And since the end of Christian education 
 is the happiness of the individual throughout his whole 
 duration, since that happiness must consist in an entire 
 conformity to the will of God, I would ask whether a 
 fashionable education, whose professed purpose, it is to 
 please the world, conforms with this nobler end ? Whether 
 it will retard the pursuit of the " one thing needful," or 
 whether the two principles may be so blended in the edu- 
 cation of your children, that they may glide smoothly 
 down the current, their sails filled by the breezy admira- 
 tion of a gay, unthinking multitude, cheered by their 
 applause, joining in their pursuits, and withal keeping the 
 sacred fire burning brightly in the midst of their vessel., 
 with the anxious caution of a vestal's vigil ? 
 
 In pursuing the things of the present life we examine 
 with scrutiny the means which are suggested for their 
 attainment, respecting all those which seem even of a
 
 doubtful nature : and in the things of eternity shall we be 
 less circumspect; and shall we mingle motives and sys- 
 tems which God himself has separated? does not his 
 sacred word decide this question at once, pronouncing 
 the " friendship of the world, enmity with God," bidding 
 us not to be "conformed to it" but to be "transformed by 
 the renewing of our minds;" commanding us not to "love 
 the world or the things of the world," and telling us that 
 if we " love the world the love of the Father is not in us ?" 
 representing the Christian life as a warfare, and remind- 
 ing us that "no man that warreth entangleth himself with 
 the affairs of this life, that he may please him who hath 
 chosen him to be a soldier?" and that "the weapons of 
 our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the 
 pulling down of strong holds, casting down imaginations, 
 and every thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge 
 of God ?" All those pursuits whose avowed end is merely 
 to gain the applause of man, I should reject ; for although 
 many actions, studies, and accomplishments, in themselves 
 commendable, may be alloyed by the motives of those who 
 " seek their own, not the things of Jesus Christ," yet 
 there are some arts which are incapable of being rendered 
 subservient in any degree to the knowledge or the love of 
 God. Among these I should class dancing; and surely 
 the scenes to which a knowledge of this art is the prepa- 
 ration are more than negatively wrong. 
 
 Childish and trifling as dancing schools are in them- 
 selves, they are but the precursors of still greater follies, 
 and more ensnaring vanities ; and instead of the grateful 
 relaxation which, after unbending the mind for a short 
 space, refits it for the exercise of all its energies in thai 
 arduous and ascending, yet pleasant and healthful path, 
 it disqualifies it for aught but the broad descending road ; 
 it introduces new desires, new wants, new pleasures, and 
 reflections. Oh how unsuited to the word of truth ! and 
 it stirs within the latent sparks of pride, of vanity, and of 
 ambition, which it is the duty of education to repress, 
 and which it is the work of the Spirit to eradicate : and 
 their own will and the will of man claim an ascendency 
 over the will of God ; and instead of referring to his word 
 as their text book, the maxims of the world are on their 
 lips ; and instead of remembering that the eye of his holi- 
 ness is ever over them, they but remember that the eye of
 
 a criticising or of an admiring world is on them ; and even 
 when the amiable or the modest texture of their charac- 
 ters prevents the apparent and inordinate love of admira- 
 tion, which is but too distinguishing a trait of the world's 
 votary, yet the spirit of the gospel is forgotten. Can they 
 remember that " strait is the gate and narrow the way 
 that leads to life," when they see the parent to whose au- 
 thority their wills have bowed leading them into the vani- 
 ties, and tempting them with the allurements of this world 
 and its many snares 1 Can they indeed believe, that they 
 must " give all diligence to make their calling and elec- 
 tion sure;" that " forgetting the things which are behind, 
 and reaching forth unto those things which are before, 
 they must press towards the mark of the prize of the high 
 calling of God in Christ Jesus," when they observe in you 
 such an anxiety that they should appear well unto men ! 
 And surely with our natural disposition to forget God we 
 have combatants enough, without these additional incite- 
 ments, and these additional claims upon our time and our 
 attention; why then should we endeavour to train the 
 youthful mind for a society so much in opposition to the 
 society of heaven ? Why should we lead them into scenes 
 in which the name of God, if mentioned at all, is men- 
 tioned in vain ? Are they not to look upon themselves as 
 " pilgrims and sojourners" here, journeying to a " better 
 and an enduring" country ; and will you teach them to 
 build tabernacles, and to take up their abode (in spirit at 
 least) on this shifting stage; and will you give them com- 
 panions, who if they have any influence, must retard their 
 progress in that glorious course ? 
 
 " Pilgrims who journey in the narrow way, 
 Should go as little cumber'd as they may." 
 
 And instead of teaching them to "lay aside every weight" 
 and to " run with patience the race set before them," will 
 you clog their feet, fetter their limbs, and turn them aside 
 from the " King's highway ?" or think you that the scenes 
 of a fashionable life are calculated to open in them any of 
 those " fruits of the Spirit," which St. Paul tell us " are 
 love, joy, peace, long suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, 
 meekness, temperance;" or will they assist them in "con- 
 quering the flesh with the affections and lusts?" Will they 
 not rather make them " desirous of vain glory, provoking
 
 one another, envying one another." I need not tell you 
 how a course of gay dissipation deadens the sensibilities of 
 our nature; who has not witnessed their effects? who has 
 not sickened at the heartlessness of those who mingled in 
 the dance, or lent their voices to the song, while the gloom 
 of their apparel told to spectators the sad state of man's 
 mortality ? Nor need I tell you that such scenes have 
 power to paralyze the efforts of genius ; how many have 
 you seen whose talents and whose conversation, enriched 
 by the recollected lore of centuries, have degenerated into 
 the vapid anecdote, or the tedious detail of " trifles light 
 as air;" and although these fruits of bitterness are not the 
 invariable consequences of a fashionable education, yet by 
 lowering the standard of piety, and by joining what God 
 has separated, they "choke the good seed;" by intro- 
 ducing into life lower aims, and narrower designs, they 
 expend the mind on trifles, and instead of being a creature 
 devoted to the service of his Maker, striving with all the 
 energies of a renovated soul for the possession of never 
 ending felicity ; man becomes a poor desultory being, 
 with no higher end than his own pleasure, no greater 
 reward than the acquirement of this world and its transi- 
 tory honours. Suppose him to attain all that this earth 
 can give, with manners to which society has added its 
 highest polish, and wit to which mind has given its keen- 
 est edge, and with all the advantages which science and 
 accomplishment have to, bestow, superadd those which 
 nature can give of sweetness and of loveliness, and let 
 this finished being have the applause he has merited of 
 man, and the affections that will cling around him as he 
 journeys onward ; and yet without Christ he is undone 
 his education has completed him only for a momentary 
 existence, and without ensuring his happiness, even for 
 one moment, it has left him perfectly unprepared for eter- 
 nity. " The right and the wrong of things'' have not. 
 been " distinguished with reference to the divine com- 
 mand, but with reference to the opinion of others and the 
 ways of the world : excellence has not been urged from 
 the approbation of God, and the imitation of Christ, and 
 the rewards of heaven ; but out of emulation of rivals, 
 and ambition of the world's places. Companions havo 
 not been sought according to their piety, their virtue, and 
 their general worth, but according to their rank and their 
 
 69
 
 prospects in this life." The disappointments and anxie- 
 ties of the world must be borne, but oh how grievous to 
 one who has no other resource ! forgetfulness, and mirth, 
 and philosophy may enable him either to forget or conceal 
 his cares and sorrows, but religion alone can make him 
 look beyond, and while it points to a refuge and his faith 
 triumphs at the sight, and his well grounded hope like 
 " an anchor to the soul both sure and steadfast entereth 
 into that within the veil," he can look down upon the 
 troubled and fluctuating scene, and repose all his care in 
 the bosom of a Saviour who first cared for him. Have 
 the princes of the earth any thing in their gift so valuable, 
 even to this life, as such a confidence ? 
 
 To the hearts of the most worldly parents I would ap- 
 peal, and let them ask themselves, whether in reviewing 
 the life of a darling and deceased child, they had rather 
 contemplate her as the gayest and most fascinating female 
 in the ball room, surrounded by admirers, conspicuously 
 graceful in the dance, the sweetest voice in the concert, 
 and as the most elegant at the festive board ; or would 
 you rather contemplate her as the humble disciple of 
 Jesus, following him through " evil report, and through 
 good report 1" Had you not rather think of her early de- 
 votion, her vesper hymn, her sober vigilance, her cheer- 
 ful piety ? Had you not rather follow her in her walks of 
 usefulness, contemplate her unostentatious charities, and 
 if you sometimes visit her silent chamber, does not her 
 well read Bible, pencilled as it is by her own fair hand, 
 give you more delight than could a gorgeous wardrobe, 
 which would remind you, not of her present felicity, but 
 of the trifling pleasures which, with her, had vanished to 
 be no more seen ? And oh, if she had left still more 
 endearing traces of herself, if her letters or her diary yet 
 remain to you, how will you prize each line she wrote 
 which can now assure you of her eternal happiness ! No 
 sacrifices which she made to God will now be the subjects 
 of regret, and the most humble walk, and the most lively 
 faith, and the most glowing devotion will not seem to you 
 now, as aught but the themes of your grateful recollection. 
 
 But a fashionable education is not necessary to refine- 
 ment of manners. A liberal taste and good society may 
 improve them, but a dancing master would have a greater 
 tendency to mar than to complete their polish : witness
 
 9 
 
 die numbers which he, and the society to which his les- 
 sons are an introduction, have made both frivolous and 
 affected. Religion does not banish from life its graces 
 and accomplishments, but by giving them a sure founda- 
 tion, renders them more permanent and lovely. In the 
 superficial part of your children's education, as in the 
 solid, all should be grounded on the approbation of God 
 and should be squared by his unerring rule ; and any 
 accomplishment which will enlarge their capacities, and 
 increase their opportunities of usefulness, if compatible 
 with the situation, circumstances, and leisure of your 
 families, and with the consistency of your own character, 
 may, I think, be innocently afforded. Have any of your 
 children a taste for music ? let their voices and their in- 
 struments be attuned to His praise who placed them in 
 such sweet accord ; do they evince a talent for design in 
 imitating the works of His hand 1 let them learn how 
 wonderful the book of nature is, and adore the mercy 
 which, not satisfied with giving to the place of their short 
 pilgrimage all things necessary to their comfort, has open- 
 ed for them innumerable avenues of pleasure, painted for 
 them a thousand living landscapes, and pencilled in exqui- 
 site detail a thousand varied flowers to lead their raptured 
 minds to meditate his goodness; and in the many graceful 
 acts of domestic life, who so likely to excel as the humble 
 Christian, whose actions arise from an impulse so exalted 
 as the love of God? from this, as from a well spring, issue 
 a thousand rills of human kindness and beneficence. 
 Who so graceful as her who is "clothed with humility,' 3 
 and adorned with the " incorruptible ornament of a meek 
 and quiet spirit?" Her politeness is established upon that 
 affectionate good will which the precepts of the gospel 
 have inculcated, and which her education and the exam- 
 ple of her parents have fostered : from her Bible she has 
 learned to "put on as the elect of God, holy and beloved, 
 bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meek- 
 ness, long suffering," forbearance and forgiveness, "to 
 be a lover of hospitality," to " be pitiful," and to " be 
 courteous ;" her love is " without dissimulation ;" " she 
 giveth with simplicity ;" " showeth mercy with cheerful- 
 ness ;" is " kindly affectioned" to her companions ; " dis- 
 tributes to the necessities of the saints," whom in honon' 
 she prefers before herself. 
 69
 
 10 
 
 But the most polished exterior and the most winning 
 manners, cannot compensate for an uncultivated mind. 
 God has given to your children faculties to improve, and 
 it is your duty to fit them for the sphere in which he has 
 been pleased to place them, remembering that their duty 
 to him demands that they should act wisely towards them- 
 selves and towards their fellow creatures, and he will 
 require from them an account of all the talents which he 
 has committed to their charge. Human science may be 
 rendered subservient to divine ; and whatever time and 
 opportunities are afforded them by Providence diligently 
 improve. Think not that a vacant mind will be the fittest 
 soil for the seeds of grace ; there is no field so sterile as 
 that which indolence has wasted ; and the weeds which 
 idleness matures have ever been the most noisome. 
 These hours, and days, and months, of neglected educa- 
 tion, and of bad example, are " Glorious opportunities for 
 the despite of Satan to revel in. The mind impressible as 
 wax, wandering after novelty, and thirsting after know- 
 ledge of good and ill, unbound by habit and roving in its 
 freedom, from within, and from without solicited to evil, 
 in this the spring time of human character, when ye, the 
 husbandmen of your children's minds, should be labour- 
 ing the soil, and spreading it out to the Sun of righteous- 
 ness, and sowing it with the seed of the everlasting word ; 
 ye are leaving it waste and undefended for the enemy to 
 enter in and sow it with the tares of wickedness, to take 
 root and flourish and choke any good seed which the 
 ministers of grace may chance afterwards to scatter." 
 " Give the enemy the spring season, and you generally 
 give him the summer, the autumn, and the winter of life, 
 with all eternity to boot; but tutor your children in the 
 institutions of God, with a constant watchfulness, and a 
 patient perseverance, beginning with restraint, then with 
 soft persuasion, leading on then with arguments of duty 
 and interest confirming ; and in the end, habit, which at 
 first is adverse, will turn propitious, and the blessing of 
 God, promised to the right training of children, will keep 
 them from leaving his paths when they are old." Do 
 you think with compassion on the ehild thus reared ? Oh 
 you know not the happiness which such an education af- 
 fords their childhood, their youth, and their ripened years. 
 Should some lovely and beloved child refer all her hopes 
 
 69
 
 11 
 
 and wishes to your will, relying on your tendernese, (rust- 
 ing in your promises, confiding in your care, enjoying 
 your approbation ; think you that this child would be less 
 happy than the one who made his own will and the will of 
 his ill chosen companions a law unto him ? Would not 
 your tenderness be her support, your promised rewards 
 the object of her joyful anticipation, your constant solici- 
 tude and care the subjects of her warmest gratitude, and 
 your approving smile be her continual banquet? Would 
 not her little heart swell with rapture as she thought on a 
 lather's fondness, and on the " enduring tenderness of a 
 mother," and if separated from you for a season, would 
 she not continue to make your will her principle of action, 
 would she not with all diligence labour to surprise you by 
 some labour of love, to show, that though absent in body, 
 you were always present in affectionate remembrance, 
 and would not such conduct be her happiness ? but sup- 
 pose that to the ordinary affection which as her parent 
 she owed you, had been added an inexpressible debt of 
 gratitude; that after rescuing her from misery by the 
 most astonishing exertions, and by the deepest sufferings, 
 on your part, you had left her for a short time, and gone 
 to p'repare for her a place of permanent joy and tranquil- 
 lity. While she journeyed onward to meet you at that 
 loved abode, would she not find in your unutterable ten- 
 derness, motives to a renewed attention to all your wishes ; 
 and in the contemplation of her last happy reunion with 
 you, never to part again, will she not rejoice with a joy 
 unspeakable, and would not this joy impart an added 
 pleasure to the shade that refreshed, the fruits that invi- 
 gorated, and the flowers that enlivened her homeward 
 paths? and yet she would not loiter in the forest, or wait 
 to accumulate the fruits, and gather the flowers which 
 you had scattered for her pleasure by the way ; in her 
 fondness for these gifts could she forget the hand that 
 gave ? and should briers impede her progress and thorns 
 lacerate her, will she stay to murmur and repine, and re- 
 trace her steps ? Oh no ! but a few hours longer and she 
 will be at home and no attempts to lure her from the path 
 leading to that bright home will succeed. But oh the 
 depth of the unsearchable mercies of God in Christ Jesus, 
 which as far transcend human comprehension, as they db 
 human language or comparison !
 
 12 
 " God only knows the love of God. )J 
 
 And if the Holy Spirit, blessing the means you use, im- 
 parts to those youthful souls the sweet assurance that 
 when they were " aliens to the commonwealth of Israel, 
 and strangers to the covenant of promise, having no hope, 
 and without God in the world," " He so loved the world, 
 that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believ- 
 eth on him should not perish but have everlasting life ;" 
 that in receiving " the Spirit of adoption" they are made 
 " heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ," heirs to an 
 " inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not 
 away ;" having such " great and precious promises," of 
 " the life which now is," and of the " life which is to 
 come," shall they not like that affectionate and confiding 
 child " rejoice evermore," and while his love heightens 
 the chance of every earthly blessing, can it not take from 
 every earthly care its sting 1 
 
 Perhaps as Christians the sympathies of their nature 
 swell to a finer and a deeper tone, for Christ himself in 
 Diving us an example of the kindest emotions, and the 
 deepest commiseration, has hallowed them ; yet these 
 feelings of humanity and affection must not be idly ex- 
 pended ; but by rendering them useful when they can be 
 so, and when they cannot be so ; by teaching them the pa- 
 tient endurance of suffering, and by giving them " strong 
 consolation," the word of God and the power- of his Spirit 
 will render them all subservient to their present or their 
 eternal well being. 
 
 " And could we make our doubts remove,. 
 
 Those gloomy doubts that rise, 
 And see the Canaan that we love, 
 With undivided eyes. 
 
 " Could \ve but climb where Moses stood, 
 
 And view the landscape o'er, 
 Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood,, 
 Should fright us from the shore." 
 
 It is the inconsistency of Christians which renders thejr 
 efforts in education so unsuccessful. How many a pa- 
 rent, who would shrink from entering a ball room or a 
 theatre, decorate the younger part of their families, an<J 
 send them abroad into follies and snares of which thena
 
 13 
 
 selves are fearful ; perhaps they even urge forward reluct- 
 ant victims to fashion and the world. Can they expect 
 that their sage remarks on the world's nothingness, on 
 the vanity of its fleeting pleasures, and on the superiority 
 of religious pursuit occasionally, or even habitually given, 
 will remove the impression which such inconsistency 
 must make 1 
 
 To their young' and ardent imaginations, untaught by 
 experience, and absorbed by the bright unreal anticipa- 
 tions of futurity, you give the worlds enticements. If they 
 advance eagerly in pursuit of the pleasures to which you 
 have initiated them, you lament their want of moderation ; 
 if after the midnight ball they carelessly enter or negligent- 
 ly pass the house of devotion, you mourn their estrange- 
 ment from religion. If the husbandman had scattered 
 with his good seed an equal proportion of bad, would he 
 have a right to lament that tares had sprung up and choked 
 the expected harvest ? And when God in mercy lays his 
 afflicting hand upon them, and disappointed hope, and 
 blighted expectation sicken the heart, how does the mis- 
 taken tenderness of the mother close the avenues which 
 the love of God had opened, and push back her child into 
 the world, that from its " broken cisterns" she may recruit 
 her wasted spirits. Is she not giving to their unhallowed 
 nature pleas of parental authority and of parental example 
 which may descend to future generations ? And in that 
 solemn hour when the secrets of all hearts shall be dis- 
 closed, when the worldly motive concealed perchance 
 from even her own eye shall be understood by all, then 
 how many may lift the accusing voice against her, and her 
 reputed piety, and her rigid observance of the forms of 
 godliness, shall with appalling eagerness be brought to 
 excuse those whom her example may have led astray ; and 
 instead of many rising up to call her blessed, many will 
 arise to mourn the day when she with all the charms with 
 which nature had endowed her, and with all that art could 
 bestow, and devotion add, to give her high repute, en- 
 snared their souls and paved their way to their utter ruin, 
 
 There is with every Christian mother an important crisis, 
 when the decision as it regards the education of her chil- 
 dren is to be made: if worldly motives prevail, she know? 
 not how soon her graces may vanish. She has enlisted 
 herself on the world's side, her example is quoted as higt 
 69 2
 
 14 
 
 authority by those who measure themselves not by the 
 standard of the gospel, but by that of professing Chris- 
 tians. She is off her vantage ground ; she has yielded a 
 'little, and will probably yield more ; and as she descends 
 into the plain, false lights will gleam around her; the 
 lights of fashion and of wordly wisdom, and the mists of 
 error and of prejudice, by which the prince of this world 
 encircles its inhabitants will encircle her also, and will 
 conceal the bright rays of the Sun of righteousness, and 
 the languid frame and the heavy heart will now accom- 
 pany the silent hour in which formerly she held such 
 sweet communion with her God. 
 
 But if a wiser choice decides the question, if with a 
 steadfast faith she resist the temptations of her wily adver- 
 sary, what enjoyments are reserved for her ! she beholds 
 the children of her love happy in the possession of rational 
 pleasures, and useful employments ; or fortified against the 
 ills of this life by a blessed hope of immortality ; (for God 
 will sanctify the means himself has appointed.) Wealth, 
 honour, and accomplishment, will be viewed by them as 
 they really are, poor and worthless in themselves; only 
 useful as they enable us to glorify God, by rendering them 
 subservient to his service. The hour of family worship 
 of social enjoyment the round of daily duty and above 
 all, the sabbaths of the Lord, 
 
 " Those resting bowers 
 As on she travels in the narrow way," 
 
 will give her a constant succession of calm and holy plea- 
 sures at which the world may scoff in vain ; and though 
 her " warfare is" not yet " accomplished," though she 
 has much remaining in her own heart to weep over, she 
 knows in whom she has believed, that he is faithful and 
 true to forgive her sins and to cleanse her from all un- 
 righteousness. 
 
 " It seems at last experience does but show 
 
 What sense and conscience told us long ago ; 
 
 Besides the old dispute 'twixt heaven and earth, 
 
 Proving her promise to be little worth ; 
 
 And that He knew our hearts and wants, who spoke 
 
 Of a light burden and an easy yoke. 
 
 Could we but credit heaven's unerring pen, 
 
 We need not wait till threescore years and ten.''
 
 15 
 
 * * * * "He says his ways are pleasant, not alone 
 To pure, bright spirits bending round the throne. 
 But pleasant, peaceful, suited to the powers 
 Of such *^oor sordid, earthly souls as ours ; 
 We doubt and all experience claims to do, 
 Is simply this to prove the statement true." 
 
 1 SAMUEL ii, 24. 
 
 The fruit of your indulgence see, 
 
 Whoe'er iu Eli's footsteps tread, 
 Ye curse your fondled progeny, 
 
 Ye pull destruction on their head ; 
 The wrath of an almighty Lord, 
 
 Your lenity's effects, they feel : 
 It fattens for the slaughtering swordj 
 
 It softly lets them down to hell. 
 
 1 SAMUEL ii, 26. 
 
 Holy child, our children take, 
 
 With thyself on us bestow'd, 
 Partners of thy nature make, 
 
 Bless and bring them up for God ; 
 Give them in thy grace to grow, 
 
 Favourites of the Deity, 
 Favourites of thy saints below, 
 
 Perfectly conform'd to thee. 
 
 ECCLESIASTES xii, 1. 
 
 Fain would I in my earliest days 
 
 Be mindful of my God, 
 My God who made m by his grace, 
 
 And bought me with his blood : 
 That young I may observe thy word ; 
 
 And not in age depart, 
 Come, oh my dear redeeming Lord, 
 
 And dwell within my heart.
 
 16 
 CHRISTIAN BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 My soul, what ought I to have done 
 To save a kinsman's soul from wo 1 
 
 Jg there a toil my hands should shun ? 
 Answer, my heart It answers no. 
 
 What have I done lost souls to save 1 
 Ah mem'ry ! little can I trace ; 
 
 Where is my zeal those toils to brave, 
 Though all is claim'd by sov 'reign grace 1 
 
 What can I do ? my busy mind 
 Awake, no longer lingering lie ; 
 
 Whilst thou art still in ease reclined, 
 Thousands of sinners hopeless die ! 
 
 What am I bound to do ? Ah, what, 
 For HIM, who saved me from despair ! 
 
 Shall Calv'ry's scene be e'er forgot 
 By one whose soul is ransom 'd there 1 
 
 What has the zeal of others done, 
 Nor check 'd by toils, nor chains, nor seasl 
 
 What laurels for their Master won, 
 While I enjoy inglorious ease ? 
 
 What do the world around expect 
 From one who boasts of sins forgiven ? 
 
 Shall I a neighbour's soul neglect, 
 
 When taught myself the way to heaven ? 
 
 What when I tread the verge of death, 
 Will be my last, my anxious cry ? 
 
 Would I had spent life's fleeting breath, 
 Jesus my Lord to glorify. 
 
 'Tis not too late ; my soul, arise, 
 The pleasing work of love pursue ; 
 
 My soul on aid divine relies, 
 
 For HIM I YET may something do. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY N. BANGS AND 3. EMORY, 
 
 Fr the Tract Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, at the Gonferenc* 
 Office, 14 Crosby-street, New- York, 
 
 A'.or Hoyt, Printer.
 
 HO. 70. 
 
 SERMON, 
 
 DEATH OF THE REV. JOHN FLETCHER, 
 
 BY THE RJEV. JOHN WESLET. 
 
 " Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end or 
 that man is peace," Psalm xixvii, 37. 
 
 IN the preceding verses taken together with this, there 
 is a beautiful contrast, between the death of a wicked, 
 and that of a good man. " I myself,'' says the Psalmist, 
 " have seen the ungodly in great power, and flourishing 
 -ike a green bay tree. I went by, and, lo ! he was gone : 
 I sought him, but his place could no where be found." 
 Dost thou desire to be found happy, both in life and in 
 death ? Then " keep innocency, and take heed unto the 
 thing that is right : for that shall bring a man peace at 
 the last." The words are rendered in the New Trans- 
 lation with far more force and elegance. " Mark the 
 perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that 
 man is peace." It is not improbable, that David, while 
 he uttered these words, had a particular instance before 
 his eyes. Such an instance was that of the great and 
 good man, whom God has not long ago taken to himself. 
 
 In discoursing on these words, I purpose, first, briefly 
 to inquire, who is the person here spoken of, " the per- 
 fect, the upright man ?" I will endeavour, secondly, to 
 explain the promise, " That shall bring a man peace at the 
 last ;" or, as it is expressed in the other version, " The 
 end of that man is peace." I will, then, with the divine 
 ussistance, show a little more at large, in how glorious a 
 mariner this was fulfilled in the end of that " perfect and 
 upright man," who has been lately removed from us. 
 
 I. 1. I am, first, briefly to inquire, who is the person 
 that is here spoken of, " the upright and perfect man?"
 
 In speaking on this head, I shall not endeavour to describe 
 the character of an upright Jew ; such as David himself 
 was, or any of those holy men that lived under the Mosaic 
 dispensation : it more nearly imports us to consider such 
 an upright man, as are those that live under the Christian 
 dispensation, such as have lived and died since " life and 
 immortality have been brought to light by the gospel." 
 
 2. In this sense, he is a perfect and upright man, who 
 believes in the name of the Son of God : he is one in whom 
 it has pleased the Father to reveal the Son of his love < 
 and who, consequently, is able to declare, " The life that 
 I now live, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved 
 me, and gave himself for me'." He is one that finds "the 
 Spirit of God witnessing with his spirit, that he is a child 
 of God :" and unto whom " Jesus Christ is made of God, 
 wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and re- 
 demption." 
 
 3. This faith will, undoubtedly, " work by love." Ac- 
 cordingly every Christian believer has " the love of God 
 shed abroad in his heart, by the Holy Ghost which is given 
 unto him." And loving God, he loves his brother also' 
 his good will extends to every child of man. By this, as 
 well as by the fruits of love, lowliness, meekness, and 
 resignation, he shows that there is the same " mind in him 
 which was in Christ Jesus." 
 
 4. As to his outward behaviour, the upright Christian 
 believer, is blameless and irreproachable. He is holy, as 
 Christ that hath called him is holy, in all manner of con- 
 versation : ever labouring to have a conscience void of 
 offence, towards God and towards man. He not only 
 avoids all outward sin, but " abstains from all appearance- 
 of evil." He steadily walks in all the public and private 
 ordinances of the Lord blameless. He is zealous of good 
 works; as he hath time, doing good, in every kind and 
 degree, to all men. And in the whole course of his life, 
 lie pursues one invariable rule, whether lie eat or drink, 
 or whatever he does, to do all to the glory of God. 
 
 II. And surely " the end of that man is peace :" the 
 meaning of which words we are now, in the second place, 
 to consider. 
 
 I do not conceive this immediately to refer to that glo- 
 rious peace, which is prepared for him in the preface a? 
 Ood to all eternity; but rather to that which he will enjoy
 
 in the present world, before his spirit returns to- God that 
 ::;ive it. Neither does it seem directly to refer to outward 
 peace, or deliverance from outward trouble : although it is 
 true, many good men, who had been long buffeted by ad- 
 vs.T.-utVr and troubled on every side, have experienced an 
 entire deliverance from it, and enjoyed a remarkable calm 
 before they went hence. But this seems chiefly to refer to 
 inward peace, even that " peace of God which passeth all 
 understanding." Therefore, it is no wonder, that it can- 
 not be fully and adequately expressed in human language. 
 Yl r c can only say, it is an unspeakable calmness and sere- 
 nity of spirit, a tranquillity in the blood of Christ, which' 
 keeps the souls of believers, in their latest hour, even as 
 a garrison keeps a city: which keeps not only their hearts, 
 all their passions and affections, but also their minds, all 
 the motions of their understanding and imagination, and 
 :)11 the workings of their reason, in Christ Jesus. This 
 peace they experienced in a higher or lower degree, (sup- 
 pose they continued in the faith,) from the tii>c they first 
 ibund redemption in the blood of Jesus, even the forgive- 
 Ticss of sins. Cut when they have nearly finished their 
 crrurse, it generally flows as a river, even in such a degree. 
 us it had not entered into their hearts to conceive. .A re- 
 markable instance of this, out of a thousand, occurred 
 many years ago. Enoch Williams, one of the first of our 
 preachers that was stationed at Cork, (who had received 
 this peace when he was eleven years old, and had never 
 lost it for an hour,) after he had rejoiced in God with joy 
 unspeakable, during the whole course of his illness, was 
 loo much exhausted to speak many words, but just said, 
 "Peace! peace!" and died. 
 
 III. So was the Scripture fulfilled. But it was far more 
 gloriously fulfilled in that late eminent servant of God ; as 
 will appear if we consider a few circumstances, first of his 
 life, and secondly, of his triumphant death. 
 
 1. Indeed we have, as yet, but a very imperfect know- 
 ledge of his life. We know little more of his early \\-ars, 
 than that he was from his infancy so remarkably regard- 
 less of food, that he would scarce take enough to sustain 
 life ; and that he had always- much of the fear of God, and 
 a real sense of religion. He was born September 12, in 
 the year 1729, at Nyon, in Switzerland, of a very reputa- 
 ble family. lie went through the usual course of academical 
 70
 
 studies, in the university of Geneva. One of his uncles, 
 \vho was, at that time, a general officer in the imperial 
 service, then invited him into the same service, promising 
 to procure him a commission. But just as he came into 
 Germany, the war was at an end. Being so far on his 
 way, he was then invited into Holland by another uncle, 
 who had, a little before, been desired, by a correspondent 
 in England, to procure a tutor for a gentleman's sons. 
 He asked Mr. Fletcher whether he were willing to go into 
 England, and undertake this office 1 He consented, and 
 accordingly went over to England, and took the care of 
 Mr. Hill's two sons, at Tern Hall, in Shropshire : and ho 
 continued in that office, till the young gentlemen went to 
 the university. 
 
 2. When Mr. Hill went to London, to attend the par- 
 liament, he took his lady and Mr. Fletcher with him. 
 While they were dining at St. Alban's, he walked out 
 into the town, but did not return, till the coach was set 
 out for London. However, a saddle horse being left, he 
 came after, and overtook them the same evening. Mrs- 
 Hill asking him, " Why he stayed behind ?" he said, " I 
 was walking through the market place, and I heard a 
 poor old woman talk so sweetly of Jesus Christ, that I 
 knew not how the time passed away." " I will be hanged," 
 said Mrs. Hill, ' 5 if our tutor does not turn Methodist by 
 and by !" " Methodist, madam," said he, " pray what is 
 that?" She replied, "Why, the Methodists are a people 
 that do nothing but pray. They are praying all day and 
 all night." "Are they?" said he; " then with the help 
 of God I will find them out, if they be above ground." 
 He did, not long after, find them out, and had his desire, 
 being admitted into the society. While he was in town 
 he met in Mr. Edwards's class, and lost no opportunity of 
 meeting. And he retained a peculiar regard for Mr. 
 Edwards to the day of his death. 
 
 3. It was not long before he wasrpressed in spirit to call 
 sinners to repentance. Seeing the world all around him 
 lying in wickedness, he found an earnest desire, 
 
 " To pluck poor brands out of the fire, 
 To snatcb them from the verge of hell." 
 
 And though he was yet far from being perfect in the Eng- 
 lish tongue, particularly with regard to the pronunciation 
 of it, yet the earnestness with which he spake, seldom to
 
 DC seen in England, and the unspeakable tender affection 
 which breathed in every word and gesture to poor, lost 
 sinners, made so deep an impression on all that heard, that 
 very few went empty away. 
 
 4. About the year 1753, (being now of a sufficient age,) 
 he was ordained deacon and priest, and soon after pre- 
 sented to the little living of Madeley, in Shropshire. 
 This, he had frequently said, was the only living which 
 he ever desired to have. He was ordained at Whitehall, 
 and the same day, being informed that I had no one to 
 assist me at West-street chapel, he came away as soon as 
 ever the ordination was over, and assisted me in the ad- 
 ministration of the Lord's supper. And he was now 
 doubly diligent in preaching, not only in the chapels d 
 West-street and Spitalfields, but wherever the providence 
 of God opened a door to proclaim the everlasting gospel. 
 This he did frequently in French, (as well as in Eng- 
 lish,) of which all judges allowed him to be a complete 
 master. 
 
 5. Hence he removed into the vicarage house at Made- 
 ley. Here he was fully employed among his parishioners, 
 both in the town and in Madeley Wood, a mile or two 
 from it, a place much resembling Kingswood, almost 
 wholly inhabited, by poor colliers, and their numerous 
 families. These forlorn one':, (little wiser thair'the beasts 
 that perish,) he took great pains to reform and instruct. 
 And they are now as judicious and as well behaved a 
 people, as most of their station in the three kingdoms. 
 
 6. But some time after, he .was prevailed upon by the 
 countess of Huntingdon, occasionally to quit his beloved 
 retreat, and visit Wales, in order to superintend her school 
 at Trevecka. This he did, with all his power, instructii!.'; 
 the young men, chiefly in experimental and practical divi- 
 nity: till he received a letter from the countess, in whicl;, 
 her ladyship declared, that all who did not absolutely re- 
 nounce those eight propositions, which were contained hi 
 the minutes of the conference for 1770, must immediately 
 leave her house. Mr. Fletcher was exceedingly surprised 
 at this peremptory declaration. He spent the next day in 
 fasting and prayer, and in the evening wrote to her lady- 
 ship, that he not only could not utterly renounce, but 
 must entirely approve of all those eight propositions, and 
 therefore had obeyed her order, by leaving her house, and
 
 6 
 
 returning to his own at Madeley. A little after this the cir- 
 cular letter appeared, signed by Mr. Shirley, summoning 
 all that feared God, in England, to meet together at Bris- 
 tol, at the time of the Methodist conference, " in order to 
 bear testimony against the dreadful heresy contained in 
 the minutes of the preceding conference." 
 
 7. That circular letter was the happy occasion of his 
 writing those excellent Checks to Antinomianism, in which 
 one knows not which to admire most, the purity of the 
 language, (such as a foreigner scarcely ever wrote before,) 
 the strength and clearness of the argument, or the mild- 
 ness and sweetness of the spirit, which breathes through- 
 out the whole. Insomuch, that I nothing wonder at a 
 clergyman that was resolved never to part with his dear 
 decrees, who being pressed to read them, replied, " No, 
 I will never read Mr. Fletcher's writings; for if I did, I 
 should be of his mind." He now, likewise, wrote several 
 other valuable tracts. Meantime, he was more abundant 
 in his ministerial labours, both in public and private, visit- 
 ing his whole parish, early and late, in all weathers, re- 
 garfling neither heat nor cold, rain nor snow, whether he 
 \vas on horseback or on foot. But this insensibly weaken- 
 ed his constitution, and sapped the foundation of his health; 
 which was still more effectually done, by his intense and 
 uninterrupted studies : at which he frequently continued 
 with scarce any intermission, fourteen, fifteen, or sixteen 
 hours a day. Meantime, he did not allow himself neces- 
 sary food : he seldom took any regular meals, unless he 
 had company : but twice or thrice in four and twenty hours 
 ate some bread and cheese, or fruit : instead of which he 
 took a draught of milk, and then wrote again. 
 
 8. Being informed that his health was greatly impaired, 
 I judged nothing was so likely to restore it as a long jour- 
 ney. So I proposed his taking a journey with me into 
 Scotland, to which he willingly consented. We set out 
 in spring, and after travelling eleven or twelve hundred 
 miles, returned to London in autnmn. I verily believe. 
 had he travelled with me a few months longer, he would 
 have quite recovered his health. But, being stopped by 
 his friends, he quickly relapsed, and fell into a true pul- 
 monary consumption. 
 
 9. But this sickness was not unto death. It was only 
 sent that the glory of the Lord might appear. For upwards 
 
 70 .
 
 of four months he resided at Nevvington, and was visited 
 by persons of all ranks. And they all marvelled at the 
 grace of God that was in him. In all his pain, no com- 
 plaint came out of his mouth : but his every breath was 
 spent, either in praising God, or exhorting and comforting 
 his neighbour. 
 
 10. When nothing else availed, he was advised to take 
 a journey by sea and by land into his own country. He 
 did this, in company with Mr. Ireland, a well tried and 
 faithful friend, who loved him as a brother, and thought 
 ro pains ill bestowed, if he could preserve so valuable a 
 life. He remained partly in the south of France, and 
 partly in his own country, upwards of three years, and was 
 a blessing to all that were round about him. Being much 
 recovered, in the summer of 1781, he returned in good 
 health to Madeley. 
 
 11. In the month of November of tha* year, with the 
 full approbation of all his friends, he married Miss Bosan- 
 quet : of whom, as she is still alive, I say no more at pre- 
 sent, than that she was the only person in England, whom 
 I judged to be worthy of Mr. Fletcher. By her tender and 
 judicious care, his health was confirmed more and more. 
 And I am firmly convinced that had he used this health, 
 in travelling all over the kingdom, five, or six, or seven 
 months every year, (for which never was man more emi- 
 nently qualified; no, not Mr. Whitefield himself,) he 
 vould have done more good; than any other man in Eng- 
 land. I cannot doubt but this would have been the more 
 excellent way. However, though he did not accept of 
 this honour, he did abundance of good in that narrower 
 sphere of action which he chose : and was a pattern well 
 worthy the imitation of all the parochial ministers in the 
 kingdom. 
 
 12. His manner of life during the time that he and his 
 wife lived together, it may be most satisfactory to give in 
 hc-r own words. 
 
 t: It is no little grief to me, that my dearly beloved hus- 
 Innd has left no account of himself in writing. And I am 
 not able to give many particulars of a life the most angeli- 
 ca! I have ever known. 
 
 " He was born at Nyon, in the canton of Berne, in 
 Switzerland. In his infancy he discovered a lively genius, 
 and great tenderness of heart. One day, having offended
 
 s 
 
 his father, who threatened to correct him, he kept himself 
 at a distance in the garden, till seeing his father approach, 
 and fearing his anger would be renewed by the sight of 
 him, he ran away. But he was presently struck with deep 
 remorse, thinking, ' What ! do I run away from ray father ? 
 What a wicked wretch ! It may be I may live to grow up 
 and have a son that will run away from me !' And it was 
 some years before the impression of sorrow, then made 
 upon him, wore off. 
 
 " When he was about seven years old, he was re- 
 proved by his nurse maid, saying, ' You are a naughty 
 boy, and the devil takes all such.' After he was in bed, 
 he began to refleet on her words, his heart smote him, 
 and he said, ' I am a naughty boy, and perhaps God will 
 let the devil fetch me away.' He got upon the bed, and 
 for a considerable time, wrestled with God in prayer, 
 till he felt suoh a sense of the love of God, as made him 
 quite easy. 
 
 [Part of the next paragraph I omit, being nearly the 
 same with what I inserted before.] 
 
 " Wh'en he entered Mr. Hill's family, he did not know 
 Christ in his heart. One Sunday evening, as he was 
 writing some music, the servant came in to make up the 
 fire, and looking at him., said, ' Sir, I am very sorry to see 
 you so employed on the Lord's day.' He immediately 
 put away his music, and, from that hour, became a strict 
 observer of that holy day. 
 
 " JNfot long after, he met with a person, who asked him 
 to go with her and hear the Methodists. He readily con- 
 sented. The more he heard, the more uneasy he grew : 
 .and doubling his diligence, he hoped by doins; muck to 
 render himself acceptable to God : till one d!y hearing 
 Mr. Green, he was convinced he did not know what true 
 faith was. This occasioned many reflections in his mind. 
 ' Is it possible (said he) that I who have made divinity my 
 study, and have received the premium of piety (so called, 
 from the university) for my writings on divine subjects ; 
 that I should still be so ignorant, as not to know what 
 faith is ?' But the more he examined, the more he was 
 convinced : then sin revived, and hope died away. Ii 
 now sought, by the most rigorous austerities, to conouer 
 an evil nature, and bring heaven born peace into his 
 soul. But the more he struggled, the more he was con-
 
 vinced, that all his fallen soul was sin, and that nothing 
 but a revelation of the love of Jesus, could make him a 
 Christian. For this he groaned with unwearied assiduity : 
 till one day, after much wrestling with God, lying pros- 
 trate on his face before the throne, he felt the application 
 of the blood of Jesus. Now his bonds were broken, and 
 his free soul 'began to breathe a pure air. Sin was be- 
 neath hi?; feet, and he could triumph in the Lord, the God 
 of his salvation. 
 
 " From this time he walked valiantly in the ways of 
 God ; and thinking he had not leisure enough in the day, 
 he made it a constant rule, to sit up two niglits in a week 
 for reading, prayer, and meditation, in order to sink deeper 
 into that communion with God, which was become his 
 soul's delight. Meantime, he took only vegetable food, 
 and for above six months, lived wholly on bread, with milk 
 and water. 
 
 " Notwithstanding the nights he sat up, he made it a 
 rule, never to sleep, as long as he could possibly keep 
 awake. For this purpose, he always took a candle and 
 book to bed with him. But one night, being overcome o? 
 sleep, before he had put out the candle, he dreamed his 
 curtains, pillow, and cap, were oh fire, without doing him 
 any harm. And so it was. In the morning, part of his 
 curtains, pillow, and cap, were burnt. But not a hair of 
 his head was singed. So did God give his angels charge 
 over him ! 
 
 " Some time after, he was favoured with a particu- 
 lar manifestation of the love of God : so powerful, that 
 it appeared to him, as if body and soul would be sepa- 
 rated. Now all his desires centred in one, that of de- 
 voting himself to the service of his precious Master. 
 This he thought he could do best by entering into or- 
 ders. God made his way plain, and he soon after settled 
 in Madeley. He received this parish as from the imme- 
 diate hand of God, and unweariedly laboured therein, 
 and in the adjacent places, till he had spent himself in 
 his Master's service, and was ripening fast for glory. 
 Much opposition he met with for many years, and often 
 his life was in danger. Sometimes he was inwardly con- 
 strained to warn obstinate sinners, that if they did not 
 repent, the hand of God would cut them off. And the 
 event proved the truth of the prediction. But, notwith-
 
 10 
 
 standing all their opposition, many were the seals of his 
 ministry. 
 
 " He had an earnest desire that the pure gospel should 
 remain among his people, after he was taken away. For 
 this purpose he surmounted great difficulties in building 
 the house in Madeley Wood.. He had not only saved for 
 it the last farthing he had, but when he was abroad, pro- 
 posed to let the vicarage house, (designing at his return 
 to lire in a little cottage near it,) and appropriate the rent 
 of it for clearing that house. 
 
 " Since the time I had the honour and happiness of 
 living with him, every day made me more sensible of the 
 mighty work of the Spirit upon him. The fruits of this 
 were manifest in all his life and conversation, but in no- 
 thing more than in his meekness and humility. It was a 
 meekness which no affront could move : a humilm ivhich 
 loved to be unknown, forgotten, and despised.* How 
 bard is it to find an eminent person who loves an equal T 
 But his delight was, in preferring others to himself. It 
 appeared so natural in him, that it seemed as his meat, to 
 sot every one before himself. He spoke not of the fault 
 fcF an absent person, but when necessary ; and jhen with 
 the utmost caution. He made no account of his own la- 
 bours, and perhaps carried to an extreme his dislike of 
 hearing them mentioned. 
 
 " Patience is the daughter of humility. In him it dis- 
 covered itself in a manner which I wish I could either 
 describe or imitate. It produced in him a ready mind ta 
 embrace every cross with alacrity and pleasure. And for 
 the good of his neighbour, (the poor in particular,) nothing 
 F-ecmed hard, nothing wearisome. When I have been 
 grieved to call him out of his study, from his closet work, 
 t\vo or three times in an hour, he would answer, ' Oh my 
 dear, never think of that : it matters not what we do, so 
 we are always ready to meet the will of God : it is only 
 conformity to this which makes any employment ex- 
 cellent.' 
 
 11 He had a singular love for the lambs of the flock, the 
 children, and applied himself with the greatest diligence 
 to their instruction, for which he had a peculiar gift : and 
 this populous parish found him full exercise for it. The 
 poorest met with the same attention from him as the rich. 
 
 * I think this was goinjj to an extreme. 
 
 70
 
 11 
 
 For their sakes he almost grudged himself necessaries, 
 tin", otten expressed a pain in using them, while any of his 
 I :'.<-\t'h wanted them. 
 
 " ISut while I mention his meekness and love, let me 
 not *orget the peculiar favour of his Master, in giving him 
 the most firm and resolute courage. In reproving sin and 
 open sinners, he was a son of thunder, and regarded nei- 
 ther tear nor favour, when he had a message from God to 
 deliver. 
 
 With respect to his communion with God, it is much 
 
 'o ne lamented that we have no account of it from his own 
 
 :^n But thus far I can say, it was his constant care, to 
 
 keep an uninterrupted sense of the divine presence. la 
 
 01 '['.*r to this, he was slow of speech, and had the exactest 
 
 government of his words. To this he was so inwardly 
 
 mive, as sometimes to appear stupid to those who knew 
 
 :i not : though fevv conversed in a more lively manner, 
 
 i ne judged it would be for the glory of God. It waa 
 
 continued endeavour to draw up his own and every 
 
 tl ei spirit, to an immediate intercourse with God. And 
 
 ins intercourse with me was so mingled with prayer and 
 
 : - j. that every employment, and <?very meal, was, as it 
 
 r fumed therewith. He often said, ''It is a little thing, 
 
 (i ';;mg upon God by faith, as to feel no departure from 
 
 !ii;n. .But I want to be filled with the fulness of his Spirit.' 
 
 ' I -eel,' said he, ' sometimes such gleams of light, as it 
 
 were wafts of heavenly air, as seem ready to take my soul 
 
 witn them to glory.' A little before his last illness, when 
 
 the rever began to rage among us, he preached a sermon 
 
 on the duty of visiting the sick, wherein he said, ' What do 
 
 v j:i ie;\r ? Are you afraid of catching the distemper, and 
 
 dying? Oh fear it no more ! What an honour to die in 
 
 your Master's work ! If permitted to me, I should account 
 
 it u singular favour.' In his former illness he wrote thus, 
 
 ' I calmly wait in unshaken resignation, for the full salva- 
 
 t'f;n of God; ready to venture on his faithful love, and on 
 
 fl'.<; sure mercies of David. His time is best, and is my 
 
 lime : Death has lost its sting. And I bless God i know 
 
 5.';: what hurry of spirits is, or unbelieving fear?.' 
 
 i''or some months past, he scarcely ever lay down or 
 rof-e UT> without these words in his mouth, 
 ' I nothing have, I nothing am. 
 My treasure 's in the bleeding Lamb, 
 Both now and evermore.'
 
 12 
 
 " In one of his letters which he wrote some time since 
 to his dear people at Madeley, same of his words are, ' i 
 leave this blessed island for a while; but, I trust, I shaA 
 never leave the kingdom of God, the shadow of Chris*:? 
 orpss, the clefts of the Rock, smitten and pierced for 
 143. There I meet you in spirit : thence, I trust, I shaii 
 joyfully leap into the ocean of eternity, to go and join 
 tjiose ministering spirits, who wait on the heirs of salva- 
 tion. And if I am no more allowed to minister to yon 
 on earth, I rejoice at the thought that I shall perhaps be. 
 allowed to accompany the angels, who, if you abide in the 
 faith, will be commissioned to carry you into Abraham's 
 bosom.' 
 
 " The thought enlivens my faith ! Lord, give me to wak 
 in his steps ! Then shall I see him again, and my heart 
 shall rejoice, and we shall eternally behold the Lamb toge- 
 ther. Faith brings near the welcome moment ! And now 
 he beckons me away, and Jesus bids me come !" 
 
 I know not that any thing can or need be added to this, 
 but Mrs. Fletcher's account of his death, which follows 
 also in her own words. 
 
 " For some time before his late illness, he was particu- 
 larly penetrated with the nearness of eternity. There was 
 Scarcely an hour in which he was not calling upon us \o 
 drop every thought and every care, that we might attenM 
 to nothing but drinking deeper into God. We spent mucn 
 time in wrestling with God, and were led in a peculiar 
 manner to abandon our whole selves into the hands ol 
 God, to do or suffer whatever was pleasing to him. 
 
 " On Thursday, August 4, he was employed in tue 
 work of God, from three in the afternoon till nine at 
 night. When he came home, he said, ' I have taken 
 cold.' On Friday and Saturday he was not well, but 
 seemed uncommonly drawn out in prayer. On Saturday 
 night his fever appeared very strong. I begged him not 
 to go to church in the morning : but he told me, ' It was 
 the will of the Lord ;' in which case I never dared to 
 persuade. In reading prayers he almost fainted away. 
 1 got through the crowd, and entreated him to come cv* 
 of the desk. But he let me and others know, in nis 
 sweet manner, that we were not to interrupt the order of 
 God. I then retired to my pew, where all around me 
 were in tears. When he was a little refreshed by the
 
 windows being opened, he v/ent on with a strength and 
 recollection that surprised us all. 
 
 " Alter sermon he went to the communion table with 
 these words, ' J am going to throw myself under the wings 
 of tae cherubim, before the merey seat.' The service 
 held till near two. Sometimes he could scarcely starx', 
 and was often obliged to stop. The people were deeply 
 affected : weeping was on every side. Gracious Lord ! 
 iiow was it my soul was kept so calm in the midst of the 
 most tender feelings 1 Notwithstanding his extreme weak- 
 ness, he gare out several verses of hymns, and lively sen- 
 tences of exhortation. When service was over, we hur- 
 ried him to bed, where he immediately fainted away. He 
 afterwards dropped into a sleep for some time, and, on 
 waking, cried out with a pleasant smile, ' Now, my dear, 
 thou seest I am no worse for doing the Lord's work : he 
 never fails me when I trust in him.' Having got a little 
 dinner, he dozed most of the evening, now and then 
 waking full of the praises of God. At night his fever 
 returned, though not violent, but his strength decreased 
 amazingly. On Monday and Tuesday we had a little 
 paradise together : he lay on a couch in lac study, and,, 
 though often changing posture, was sweetly pleasant, and 
 frequently slept a good while. When awake, he delighted 
 in hearing me read hymns and tracts on faith and love. 
 His words were all animating, and his patience beyond 
 expression. When he had any nauseous medicines to 
 take, he seemed to enjoy the cross, according to a word 
 he used often to repeat, that we are to seek a p< ', -c con- 
 formity to the will of God, and leave him to give us what 
 comfort he sees good. I asked him, whether he had any 
 advice to leave me, if he should be taken from me ? He 
 replied, I have nothing particular to say, the Lord will 
 open all before tkee.' I said, ( Have you any conviction 
 that God is about to take you T He said, ' No, not in par- 
 ticular ; oniy I always see death so inexpressibly ne.ir, that 
 we both se< rn to stand on the verge of eternity.' While he 
 slept a little, I besought the Lord, if it were hi 
 pleasure, to spare him to me a little longer : 
 prayer seemed to have no wings, and I could i 
 mingling continually therev ii 'Lord, give me 
 resignation. 1 This uncertainty made me trein 1 
 God was going to put into my hand the bitter < 
 70
 
 14 
 
 which 'he lately threatened my husband. Some weeks 
 before, I myself was ill of the fever. My husband then 
 ielt the whole parting scene, and struggled for perfect 
 resignation. He said, ' Oh Polly, shall I ever see the 
 day, when thou must be carried out to be buried 1 How- 
 will the little things which thy tender care has prepared 
 for me in every part of the house, how will they wound 
 iind distress me 1 How is it? I think I feel jealousy ! I 
 a;a jealous of the worms. I seem to shrink at giving my 
 dear Polly to the worms !' 
 
 " Now all these reflections returned upon my heart with 
 the weight of a millstone. I cried to the Lord, and those 
 words were deeply impressed on my spirits, ' Where I am, 
 there shall my servants be, that they may behold my glory.* 
 This promise was full of comfort to my souL I saw, that 
 in Christ's immediate presence was our home, and that we 
 should find our reunion in being deeply centred in him. 
 I received it as a fresh marriage for eternity. As such, I 
 trust for ever to hold it. All that day, whenever I thought 
 on that expression, to behold my glory, it seemed to wipe 
 away every tear, and was as the ring whereby we were 
 joined anew. 
 
 " Awaking some time after, he said, ' Polly, I have been 
 thinking, it was Israel's fault, that they asked for signs. 
 We will not do so, but abandoning our whole selves into 
 the hands of Qod, we will lie patiently before him, assured 
 that he will do all things well.' 
 
 " ' My dear love,' said I, ' if ever I have done or said 
 any thing to grieve thee, how will the remembrance wound 
 my heart, shouldst thou be taken from me !' 
 
 " He entreated and charged me, with inexpressible 
 tenderness, not to allow the thought, declaring his thank- 
 fulness for our union, in a variety of words written on my 
 heart as with the adamantine pen of friendship. 
 
 " On Wednesday, after groaning all day under the 
 weight of the power of God, he told me he had received 
 such a manifestation of the full meaning of those words, 
 ' God is love,' as he could never be able to tell. ' It fills 
 me,' said he, ' every moment. Oh Polly, my dear Polly, 
 God is love. Shout, shout aloud ! I want a gust of praise 
 to go to the ends of the earth. But it seems as if I could 
 not speak much longer. Let us fix on a sign between 
 ourselves, (tapping me twice with his finger,) now I mean,
 
 15 
 
 ' God is love.' And we will draw each other im~> God. 
 < )L>serve ! By this we will draw each other into God.' 
 
 " Saliy coming in, he cried out, 'Oh Sally, God is love. 
 J'.hoiH both of you : I want to hear you shout his praise.' 
 All tiiis time the medical friend who diligently attended 
 him, hoped he was in no danger : as he had no bad head- 
 riche, much sleep, without the least delirium, and an al- 
 most regular pulse. So was the disease, though commis- 
 sioned to take his life, restrained by the power of Gcd. 
 
 ' On Thursday his speech began to fail. While he was 
 a',lc, he spoke to all that came in his way. Hearing that 
 ?i stranger was in the house, he ordered her to be called 
 up, though uttering t\vo sentences almost made him faint. 
 To his friendly doctor he would not be silent, while he had 
 any power of speech. After saying, 'Oh sir, you take too 
 much thought ibr my body: give me leave to take thought 
 fur your sou!.' When I could scarcely understand any 
 thing he said, . I spoke these words, 'God is love.' In- 
 .'.;.antly> as if all his powers were awakened, he broke out 
 in a rantv.rc, * God is love ! love ! Oh for that gust of j:ruiso 
 j[ want to sound !' Here his voice again failed. lie suH- 
 Ibred many ways ; but with such patience, as none but 
 iliose then present can conceive. If I named his suffer- 
 ings, he would smile, and make the sign. 
 
 " On Friday, finding his body covered with spots, I fek 
 a sword pierce through my soul. As I was kneeling bv his 
 Mcle, with my hand in his, entreating the Lord to be with 
 i ; s in this tremendous hour, he strove to say many thing:;, 
 but could not : pressing my hand, and often repeating tho 
 .*ign. At last he bfeathed out, '' Head of the church, lx> 
 Lead to my wife !' When, for a few moments I was forced 
 t.> leave him, Sally said to him, ' My dear master, do yo;t 
 know me !' He replied, ' Sally, God will put his right luind 
 wider you.' She added, ' Oh my dear master, should you 
 be taken away, what a disconsolate creature \\i\l my poor 
 <!'-ar mistress be !' He replied, 'God will be her all in all.* 
 j'e had always delighted much in these words, 
 : Jesus* Wood through earth and skies, 
 Mercy, free, boundless mercy cries.' 
 
 Whenever I repeated them to him, he would answer, 
 llot/ndless ! boundless! boundless! He now added, though 
 v.ith great difficulty, 
 
 ' Mercy's full power I soon shall prove, 
 Lovei with an everlasting love '
 
 16 
 
 " On Saturday afternoon his fever seemed quite ofi', and 
 n few friends standing near the bed, he reached his hand 
 to each, and looking on a minister, said, ' Are you ready 
 to assist to morrow ?' His recollection surprised us, as 
 the day of the week had not been named in his room. 
 Many believed he would recover : and one said, ' Do you 
 think the Lord will raise you up?' He strove to answer, 
 saying, ' Raise me in the resur' meaning in the resur- 
 rection. To another, asking the same question, he said, 
 I leave it all to God.' 
 
 " In the evening, the fever returned with violence, avd 
 the mucus falling on his throat almost strangled him. It 
 was supposed the same painful emotion would grow more 
 and more violent to the last. As I felt this exquisitely, I 
 cried to the Lord to remove it : and, glory be to his name, 
 he did. From that time it returned no more. As night 
 drew on, I perceived him dying very fast. His fingers ' 
 could hardly make the sign, (which he scarce ever for- 
 got,) and his speech seemed quite gone. I said, ' My 
 dear creature, I ask not for myself, / know thy soul; but 
 ibr the sake of others, if Jesus is very present with the?, 
 lift thy right hand.' He did. ' If the prospect of glory 
 sweetly opens before thee, repeat the sign.' He imme- 
 diately raised it again : and in half a minute, a second 
 time : he then threw it up, as if he would reach the top 
 of the bed. After this, his dear hands moved no more : 
 but on my saying, ' Art thou in much pain V he answered, 
 ' No.' From this time he lay in a kind of sleep, though 
 with his eyes open and fixed. For the most part lie sat 
 upright against pillows, with his head a little inclining to 
 one side : and so remarkably composed and triumphant 
 was his countenance, that the least trace of death was 
 scarcely discernible in it. 
 
 " Twenty-four hours he was in this situation, breathing 
 like a person in common sleep. About thirty-five minutes 
 past ten, on Sunday night, August 14th, his precious soul 
 entered into the joy of his Lord, without one struggle or 
 groan, in the fifty-sixth year of his age. 
 
 " And here I break off my mournful story : but on my 
 bleeding heart the fair picture of his heavenly excellence 
 will be for ever drawn. When I call to mind his ardent 
 zeal, his laborious endeavours to seek and to save the lost, 
 i.is diligence in the employment of his time, his Christ
 
 17 
 
 like condescension towards me, and his unintcrrupit_ 
 converse with heaven ; I may well be allowed to add, my 
 Joss is beyond the power of words to paint. I have gone 
 tlirmigh deep waters : but all my afflictions were nothing 
 compared to this. Well : I want no pleasant prospect, 
 but upwards ; nor any thing whereon to fix my hope, but 
 immortality. 
 
 " On the 17th, his dear remains were deposited in 
 Madeley church yard, amid the tears and lamentations of 
 thousands. The service was performed by the Rev. 
 Mr. Hatton, Rector of Waters Upton, whom God en- 
 abled to speak in a pathetic manner to his weeping flock. 
 In the conclusion, at my request, he read the following 
 paper. 
 
 " As it was the desire of my beloved husband to be 
 buried in this plain manner, so, out of tenderness, he 
 begged that I might not be present. And in all things I 
 would obey him. 
 
 " Permit me, then, by the mouth of a friend, to bear 
 my open testimony to the glory of God, iiiit I, who 
 have known him in the most perfect manner, am con- 
 strained to declare, that I never knew any one to walk 
 so closely in the v/ays of God as he did. The Lord 
 gave him a conscience tender as the apple of an eye. 
 He literally preferred the interest of every one to his 
 own. 
 
 " He was rigidly just, but perfectly loose from all at- 
 tachment to the world. He shared his all with the poor, 
 who lay so close to his heart, that, at the approach of 
 death, when he could not speak without difficulty, he 
 cried out, ' Oh my poor ! what will become of my poor ?' 
 He was blessed with so great a degree of humility, as is 
 scarce to be found. I am witness, how often he has rejoiced 
 n being treated with contempt. Indeed it seemed the 
 very food of his soul, to be little and unknown. When he 
 desired me to write a line to his brother, if he died, I 
 replying, ' I will write him all the Lord's dealings with 
 thee ;' ' No, no,' said he : ' write nothing about me. I 
 only desire to be forgotten. God is all.' 
 
 " His zeal for souls I need not tell you. Let the labours 
 of twenty-five years, and a martyr's death in the conclu- 
 sion, imprint it on your hearts. His diligent visitation of 
 the sick, occasioned the fever, which, by God's commis- 
 
 70
 
 18 
 
 > sion, tore him from you and me. And his vehement de- 
 sire to take his last leave of you, with dying lips and 
 hands, pave, it is supposed, the finishing stroke, by ]:;-.:- 
 pr.tii.'g his blood for putrefaction. Thus has he lived and 
 died your servant. And will any of you refuse to meet 
 him V L God's right hand in that day? 
 
 " He walked with death always in sight. About Uvo 
 mouths ago, he came to me and said, ' My dear love, I 
 1 not how it is, but I have a strange impression, death 
 is very near us, as if it would he some sudden stroke upon 
 one of us. And it draws out all my soul in prayer, that we 
 may he ready.' He then broke out, ' Lord, prepare the 
 soul thou wilt call. And, oh stand by thy poor disccnso- 
 
 ' late one that shall be left behind.' 
 
 " A few days before his departure, he was filled with 
 
 . love in an uncommon manner, saying to me, ' I have had 
 such a discovery of the depth of that word, God is hrc, 
 I cannot tell the half. Oh shout his praise.' The same 
 he testified, as long as he had a voice, and continued to 
 Jtestily to the en^, by a most larnl* like patience, in \rMc!i 
 lie smiled over death, and set his last seal to the glorious 
 truths he had so long preached among you. 
 
 " Three years, nine months, and Jwo days, I have pos- 
 sessed my heavenly minded husband. But now the sun of 
 my earthly joy is set for ever, and my soul is filled with 
 anguish, which only finds its consolation in a total resig- 
 nation to the will of God. When I was asking the Lord, 
 if he pleased, to spare him to me a little longer, the fol- 
 Jowing promise was impressed on my mind with - great 
 power, (in the accomplishment of which / look fur u>-:r 
 reunion,) 'Where I am, there shall my servants be, t;,;.t 
 they may behold my glory.' Lord, hasten the hour." 
 
 There is little need of adding anv farther character of 
 this man of God, to the foregoing account, given by one 
 
 t who wrote out of the fulness of her heart, i would only 
 observe, that for many years I despaired of finding any 
 inhabitant of Great Britain, that could .stand in any degree 
 of comparison with Gregory Lopez, or Monsieur de Renty. 
 But let an impartial person judge, if Mr. Fletcher was at 
 all inferior to them. Did he not experience as deep com- 
 munion with God, and as high a measure of inward hoh- 
 ness, as was experienced either by one or the other .M 
 those burning and shining lights 1 And it is certain, his
 
 19 
 
 outward holiness shone before men, with full as bright a 
 lustre as theirs. But if any should attempt to draw a 
 parallel between them, there are two circumstances that 
 deserve consideration. One is, we are not assured, that 
 the writers of their lives did not extenuate, if not suppress, 
 what was amiss in them. And some things amiss we are 
 assured there were, viz. many touches of superstition, and 
 soihe of idolatry, in worshipping saints, the Virgin ?.Iary 
 in particular. But I have not suppressed or extenuated 
 anything in Mr. Fletcher's character. For indeed I 
 knew nothing that was amiss, nothing that needed to be 
 extenuated, much less suppressed. A second circumstance 
 is, that the writers of their lives, could not have so full a 
 knowledge of them, as both Mrs. Fletcher and I had of Mr. 
 Fletcher, being eye and ear witnesses of his whole conduct 
 Consequently we know, that his life was not sullied with 
 any mixture of either idolatry or superstition. I was inti- 
 mately acquainted with him for above thirty years. I 
 conversed with him morning, noon, and night, without 
 the least reserve, during a journey of many hundred 
 miles. And in all that time, I never heard him speak 
 0113 improper word, nor saw him do an improper action. 
 To conclude. Many exemplary men have I known, holy 
 in heart and life, within four score years. But one equal 
 to him, I have not known : one so inwardly and out- 
 wardly devoted tcf God. So unblamable a character in 
 every respect, I have not found either in Europe or 
 America. Nor do I expect to find another such, on this 
 si:le of eternity. 
 
 As it is possible we may all be such as he was, let us 
 endeavour to follow him as he followed Chris*.!",, 
 
 Norwich, Oct. 24, 1785. , f ;.y

 
 NO. 71. 
 
 PRECEPT AND EXAMPLE, 
 
 BY MRS. SHERWOOD. 
 
 ONE day Squire James called in at Mr. Browne's, and 
 said, " Mrs. Browne, you have not been over to see my 
 wife I don't know the day when. I wish you would come, 
 for she wants to have a little talk with you." 
 
 " I hope there is nothing amiss," says Mrs. Browne. 
 " Why no," said the Squire, " no great things, I trust : 
 but Charlotte gives my wife some uneasiness. The girl 
 is not so dutiful as she should be ; I must say the truth : 
 and my wife wants to break her mind upon it to you." 
 
 " Well," says Mr,s. Browne, " I will come overdo mor- 
 row: not that my opinion is worth your wife's asking; but 
 it may be some comfort to her to have a friend to speak 
 with, concerning any thing that troubles her." 
 
 So the Squire took his leave, first saying, " You had 
 better come before breakfast, Mrs. Browne, for it is a good 
 step to our house, and the weather is exceedingly warm." 
 
 As soon as the Squire was gone, Mrs. Browne said to 
 her husband, " I wonder what is the matter now ? I am 
 sure Mrs. James has taken pains with her children ; and 
 it would grieve me much if they should not afford her 
 comfort :" " Why," says Mr. Browne, " it will never an- 
 swer, wife, to be serving two masters. Some few folks 
 (I wish there were more of them in this world) are for 
 .serving God entirely : and there are many others all for 
 mammon ; but as for poor Mrs. James, she is for serving 
 both. She is a mighty woman for making a figure in this 
 world, and she would fain do well in the next too. Bu4. 
 it will not do I never saw it answer yet : ' No man cau 
 serve two masters,' as our Lord hath said, ' for either he 
 will hate the one, and love the other ; or else he will hold 
 to the one and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God 
 and mammon,' Matt, vi, 24. These children of James 
 have learned catechisms, and hymns, and prayers, and 
 texts without end : they showed themselves to be good 
 Bible scholars in the church last Friday ; but though there 
 is a plaster for afl sores in the Bible, the plaster \viH no*
 
 heal unless it be applied to the sore ; and these children 
 have, I fear, never been taught to apply the Scripture, 
 and bring it home to themselves : neither have they seen 
 their parents shaping their lives to the Bible rules ; but on 
 the contrary, they have seen them following the fashions 
 of the world, then where is the wonder if the young ones 
 do not turn out as they should do ?" 
 
 " There is much truth in what you say," replied Mrs. 
 Browne. " Mr. King," said her husband, " gave us an 
 excellent discourse while you were away, I never heard 
 a better, and the text was this ' And Elijah came unto 
 all the people, and said, How long halt ye between two 
 opinions ? if the Lord be God, follow him : but if Baal, 
 then follow him. And the people answered him not a 
 word,' 1 Kings xviii, 21. There were many things in that 
 discourse that made me look to myself with shame." 
 
 Nothing more passed between Mr. Browne and his wife 
 on this subject that night; and the next morning Mrs. 
 Browne took her work and went over to the Squire's. 
 She found Mrs. James sitting in the hall alone, for the 
 children had gone to take a walk : so sitting down by her, 
 Mrs. James soon explained to Mrs. Browne the cause of 
 her trouble. " I am sure," said Mrs. James, " from the 
 day of their birth, no mother has been a greater slave to 
 her children than I have been to mine. I have fed them 
 \vith the best, I have clothed them with the best, and I 
 have provided them with the best learning in my power. 
 First, Edward Burns, who was a capital scholar, taught 
 them to read, write, and cypher ; he also made them learn 
 the whole of the catechism by heart, together with some 
 scores of hymns : and since he died, James Law has come 
 every day to hear them read, and to bring them forward 
 in their learning ; and he sets them verses from the Bible 
 which I am at the pains to make them learn. Then 
 Charlotte, can mark as prettily as any girl in the country : 
 and as to stitching, and flowering, and doing the carpet 
 work, I will match her with the very best. And I do not 
 think that even your little girl can read better than rny 
 Kitty, though Mary is the elder by four months. And 
 now," adds Mrs. J. " is it not very hard, when I hoped to 
 begin to reap the fruit of all my labours, and cares, and 
 expense, to see. Charlotte going altogether wrong! My 
 children will have a right to rank among the best, and 1
 
 Charlotte might marry well, but her own undutifulness 
 and obstinacy will be her downfal. I have threatened to 
 lock her up, and I will be as good as my word, for she will 
 break my heart." Here the poor woman burst into tears, 
 for her trouble was great: and Mrs. Browne, who was 
 very much concerned for the anxious mother, endeavoured 
 to comfort her. 
 
 "What can I do, Mrs. Browne? what can 1 do?" 
 asked Mrs. James when she could speak. " Do give me 
 your advice, you have brought up several motherless girls, 
 and they have for the most pan done well ; tell me what 
 your method is ?" 
 
 '' I strive to make them fear God," answered Mrs. 
 Browne ; " I teach them the word of God, and pray for 
 them ; and while they are young I don't spare the rod 
 when I see occasion to use it." 
 
 "Well," said Mrs. James, "and do I not cause my 
 children to learn God's word ? Could Charlotte have got 
 that Bible in the church, if she had not some knowledge 
 of religion 1 I cannot blame myself for neglecting her 
 religious instruction I cannot, indeed, Mrs. Browne. 
 
 But do give me your aHvioe.- What can I do ? Must I lock 
 
 her up? Her father has beat her, and that several times." 
 
 Mm. B. Beating and locking up may do with little ones, 
 Mrs. James ; but it seldom answers with grown girls. 
 
 Mrs. J. But you do not tell me what I can do better*! 
 Pray point out my fault, if I have any. in the management 
 of the girl ? do, Mrs. Browne, give me your opinion. You 
 have had such success in the bringing up several girls, 
 now grown women, that 1 would gladly have your advice. 
 
 Mrs. Browne had, it is true, brought up several young 
 women well, and they had married and become good 
 wives; and she now made answer to Mrs. James, that it" 
 she really wished for her advice, she would give it her 
 without fail, in the evening ; when she should have had 
 time to consider the matter better, and to judge a little of 
 Mrs. James's method with the children. 
 
 By this time the Squire, and the three young ones, were 
 come in; and they all sat down to breakfast. Mrs. Browne 
 bearing in mind the conversation that had just passed be- 
 tween herself and Mrs. James, took a good deal of notice 
 of the behaviour of the parents towards the chil Von, nnd 
 of the children to the parents. The Squire, as soon as he 
 
 71
 
 came in, called for a tumbler of brandy and water, and 
 made it pretty strong. The Weather was very hot, and 
 the poor man ready to drop ; v but I have no doubt but a 
 good dish of tea would have cooled him better, and done 
 him more good ; and Mrs. Browne was sadly vexed to see 
 that after drinking off two parts of the brandy and water, 
 he divided the rest between William and little Kitty; Mrs. 
 James sitting by and taking no notice. 
 
 There was tea, and bread, and butter, and plenty of 
 fried bacon, eggs, and fish, for breakfast; and the chil- 
 dren were allowed to take what they pleased, and eat or 
 leave, just as they fancied : so that they wasted more than 
 they ate, which is an ugly and sinful custom, considering 
 how many poor people would be glad of those bits and 
 fragments which children have been fingering and throw- 
 ing about. 
 
 Mrs. Browne also observed that the children spoke very 
 pertly to their parents, and very rudely to each other ; and 
 that Mi's. James made much difference in her behaviour 
 to Charlotte and to little Kitty : for nothing that Kitty 
 could do was wrong, while she was continually finding 
 fault with Charlotte, and snubbing hpr, even when there 
 was no need. And here again, thought Mrs. Browne, is 
 another great mistake of parents. While children are 
 young, and a little strict management and proper chastise- 
 ment might do them great service ; we withhold both the 
 one and the other, indulging them in all their whims and 
 little evil ways : but when they begin to advance to man's 
 or woman's estate when the world strews their way thick 
 with temptations and snares, and the only safe place for 
 them is home ; then parents are from morning till night, 
 contradicting and thwarting them, so that they are glad 
 to go any where to get out of the way of them. 
 
 Just as the family had finished their breakfast, and Mrs. 
 Browne and Mrs. James had taken out their work, James 
 Law came in, and calling the young people into the hall, 
 he heard them say their lessons, and gave to them their 
 verses for the day. When he had done, Mrs. James said, 
 " Won't you come in, James Law, and sit a little, and 
 take a glass of something this warm day 1" 
 
 " No, thank you, Mrs. James/' he answered, " I must 
 be going, only be so kind as to see that the young folks 
 {earn what I have set them." 
 
 71
 
 " Surely;" says Mrs. James, so she made them come in, 
 and sit at one end of the room, learning their verses, while 
 she and Mrs. B. sat down to their work at the other. 
 
 Mrs. James was plaiting some fine lace upon a worked 
 muslin gown, and as she busily plied her needle, she said 
 to Mrs. Browne, " I am getting this gown ready to go to 
 Capt. Davvson's to morrow. It is' his birth day, and there 
 will be as many as five and twenty or thirty people there ; 
 and I imagine we shall have a dance." 
 
 *'A dance," says Mrs. Browne, smiling; "you will find 
 it very hot. Last Wednesday night the people were com- 
 plaining how hot it was in church, and some of them said 
 that they would go there no more till it was cooler. We 
 should have thought it very hard, if, while complaining of 
 the heat, we had been forced up to dance." 
 
 " Oh, but there will be lemonade and refreshments 
 handed roond," said Mrs. James, "or else, to be sure, we 
 could not bear the exercise." She then called to her 
 eldest daughter, " Why, Charlotte, what are you about 
 there ? are not those verses learned yet ? don't you know 
 that you have your own and your sister's frock to get 
 ready for to morrow night, and two or three more jobs? 
 What are you dandling about there V 
 
 Charlotte answered, La ! mother, what a hurry you are 
 in ! How am I to learn four verses in three minutes ? 
 
 Mrs. J. And how are you to get all the trimmings put 
 on the frocks, if you don't make haste? 
 
 Charlotte. What, is there no mantuamaker in the place? 
 
 This dispute was stopped by little Kitty getting up, and 
 saying, " Mother, see if 1 can say my lesson well enough?" 
 
 Mrs. James took the Bible in her hand, and the child 
 repeated her verse, which was from 1 John iii, 17, " Whoso 
 hath this world's goods, and seeth his brother have need, 
 and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how 
 dvvelleth the love of God in him ?" 
 
 The child said the verse rery exactly, and her mother 
 commended her, bidding her say it as well to James Law 
 the next day. At that moment there appeared, just oppo 
 site the door, a very old blind black woman, who was 
 almost naked, and her bones scarcely covered with skin ; 
 a slender black child led her by the hand. She was a very 
 dirty and miserable creature, and she begged for one six- 
 pence, only one sixpence.
 
 6 
 
 Mrs. James called out, " What's there ? Oh ! what a 
 frightful object!" 
 
 "She wants sixpence, mother," said Kitty. 
 
 "Oh, sixpence indeed," said her mother; "I have 
 something else to do with my money than to give it to 
 such vagabonds as those. Tell her to go, Kitty ." 
 
 " But she is blind, mother," said the child. 
 
 ." Blind indeed," said Mrs. James, "if I were to give to 
 all the blind beggars about, our house would never be free, 
 do tell her (o be gone." 
 
 By this time Mrs. Browne, who had been looking in her 
 work bag, found some money in the corner of her house- 
 wife; so she slipped it irito Kitty's hand, and the child ran 
 with it to the poor woman, who went away very well con- 
 tented; and Mrs. James, who was now hearing Charlotte 
 repeat her verses, either did not see, or pretended not to 
 see, what TVIrs. Browne was doing. Mrs. Browne then 
 listened to hear what Charlotte's verses were. They hap- 
 pened to be one of her favourite passages of Scripture, 
 and wer6 taken from 1 Pet. iii, 1-4. When speaking of 
 women the apostle gives them these directions, " Likewise 
 ye wives be in subjection to your own husbands ; that if 
 any obey not the word, they also may without the word, 
 be won by the conversation of the wives; while they 
 behold your chaste conversation coupled with fear. Whose 
 adorning, let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the 
 hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel ; 
 but let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is 
 not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet 
 spirit, whic% is in the sight of God of great price." "Oh! 
 mother," said Charlotte, almost before she had finished 
 the verses, " there's the man with the necklaces and box 
 of artificial flowers just crossing the street. Shall I teli 
 Tom to run after him 1" 
 
 " Do, do, child," says Mrs. James, " he is the very per- 
 son I want ; he is just come in time I want both a flower 
 and a necklace." 
 
 " What's that you say, wife," said the Squire, who was 
 writing at a small table in the corner of the room, " what, 
 more trumpery ! you have half ruined me this month as it 
 is. Did not you lay out eight dollars at What-do-you-call- 
 him's shop only last Monday, and I saw nothing for the 
 money but a few yards of old lace?" '
 
 Mrs. J. Old lace ! why, it is this very lace I am plaiting 
 on my gown. Old, do you call it ? Why, it has never been 
 wet with water yet. " 
 
 Squire J. Well, I 'wish you could be content to dress 
 like Mrs. Browne. Do you see any lace, any trumpery 
 about her ! all is plain, neat, and decenu 
 
 Mrs. J. Do you see any thing that is not handsome 
 about me 1 
 
 Squire J. Don't suppose that you please me by your 
 finery. I had rather see you plain, and have the money 
 in my pocket. 
 
 Mrs. J. You are not then like any other man in the world. 
 Would you have me disgrace you by my appearance? 
 
 " I tell you, wife," said the Squire, " I had rather save 
 my money." 
 
 By this time the man was come in with his artificial 
 flowers, feathers and necklaces: and just at the same time 
 the Squire was called out; so Mrs. James and her daugh- 
 ters had time to examine the contents of the man's box 
 without interruption, trying one flower and then another 
 on their heads, and looking at themselves in the glass. 
 Having made choice of such things as they wished, the 
 next business was to beat down the man's price : but the 
 man being obstinate, Mrs. James became excessively 
 angry; so that when the Squire came in he found the 
 house in such confusion that he was glad to pay the man 
 and send him off. 
 
 Now all being quiet again, and the girls seated by their 
 mother's side, at. work, Mrs. James began to look about for 
 her son : for in the midst of the bustle master William had 
 laid his Bible down and ran off to play. " Do James," said 
 she to her husband, "see where that lad is; he is gone off 
 without saying his verses, or writing his copy, or doing any 
 thing else which he should have done." 
 
 The Squire, who had just sat down to his writing, got up 
 again, and looking about for his cane, he presently brought 
 the boy in, and laying two or three smart strokes over his 
 shoulders, " Let me see you leave your books again, and 
 go to play, my gentleman," said he, " and I'll give you 
 more of this sauce, f can tell you." 
 
 " Why, father," said the boy, " I could say my verses, 
 and my spelling too; but mother was so busy with that 
 feather man, that it. was of no use to ask her to hear me,' 
 
 7 

 
 " Well," says Mrs. James, " if you could say your verses 
 then; I suppose you can say them now." 
 
 " To be sure I can, mother," said tffe boy ; so he brought 
 his verses to her, and very pretty ones they \vere. They 
 were from Matt, v, 43-45, and the boy said them very well. 
 
 Mrs. Browne was just thinking whether she might not 
 put in a word, by way of enforcing on the boy what he had 
 just repeated. When the Squire, jumping up from his desk, 
 (to which he had again seated himself,] said, " Wife- I for- 
 got to tell you that the vile dog Field is like to be ruined." 
 
 "Ruined !" says Mrs. James, her face growing red with 
 pleasure ; " sure that's too good to be true." 
 
 " It is true, however, as sure as I am here," answered 
 the Squire, " and I would rather have lost a hundred dol- 
 lars out of my pocket than it should not be so. I only 
 ivish it had happened six years ago." 
 
 "Is it Henry, Field you are speaking of?" said Mrs. 
 Browne, " Poor man, I never heard much harm of him. 
 What has happened now?" 
 
 The Squire broke out more violently than ever against 
 Field; " I don't know what has happened now, I only hope 
 he may go to jail. I know he did me an ill turn six years 
 ago; and I never have forgiven him, and I never will." 
 
 "No. that I hope you never will," says Mrs. James. 
 " the low fellow !" 
 
 " But," says Mrs. B., " without entering into the merits 
 of the case; Mrs. James, should not we practise forgive- 
 ness to each other, as we hope to be forgiven 1 William," 
 .said she, turning to the boy, " what passage of Scripture- 
 were you just now repeating ? was it not ' Love your ene- 
 mies; bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate 
 you, and pray for them which despitefull v use you, and 
 persecute you; that ye may be the children of your Father 
 which is in heaven ; for he maketh his sun to rise on the 
 evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on 
 the unjust ?' : ' 
 
 Mrs. James interrupted Mrs. Browne, by saying, " Who 
 told you this news, James?" 
 
 Squire J. Why, Leonard told me, and he would cer- 
 tainly know. 
 
 Mrs. J. To be sure he ought to know but I still fear 
 it is too good news to be true. 
 
 Mrs. Brofljne said no more upon the subject of Christian 
 forgiveness, and the matter, was dropped for that time.
 
 Mrs. James kept her children at their work until one 
 o'clock, for she was very anxious to make them industrious, 
 and then they all sat down to dinner: after which the young 
 ones went into another room, and Mrs. Browne staid with 
 the Squire and his wife, while the Squire smoked a segar, 
 and took a glass or two of spirits and water. 
 
 " Well," says Mrs. James to Mrs. Browne, as soon as 
 the children were gone out, " you have seen our way of 
 going on. We do most days as we have done to day ; and 
 I think you will say that we keep our children to their books 
 and to their work as close as any family in the village." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Browne, " I must say you keep them 
 to it pretty well." 
 
 "And I think," continued Mrs. James, "if our children 
 go wrong, we have nothing to blame ourselves for." To 
 this Mrs. Browne made no answer. " I am sure I have 
 done the part of the best of mothers/' added Mrs. James. 
 Mrs. Browne was still silent ; upon which, the Squire taking 
 the segar out of his mouth, and shaking the ashes upon the 
 table, said, " Mrs. Browne, you don't speak; have you any 
 fault to find with my wife's management of her children? 
 I am sure there is no neglect in the articles of religion, 
 and that's what you are very particular about, I know." 
 ' Mrs. B. Why, Squire, it is not altogether prudent to be 
 meddling in other people's concerns. I have lived long 
 enough in the world to know that such a mode of proceed- 
 ing seldom answers any good purpose. 
 
 " Oh," says Mrs. James, " don't be afraid, Mrs. Browne, 
 I beg. You'll give no offence, I assure you, whatever you 
 say." And she fidgeted in her chair, and began smooth- 
 ing her gown over her knees, and fanning herself with 
 her pocket handkerchief. 
 
 Mrs. Browne thought to herself, " I am now in adifficulty: 
 whether I speak or hold my tongue, I shall give offence. 
 But I must trust to God to show me what is right, and to 
 bear me through.'.' She however remained silent till the 
 Squire again pressed her to say if she had seen any thing 
 which she thought amiss in the management of the children. 
 
 "Why Squire," said she, " it is an old saying, that the one 
 who stands by sees more of the game than those who play." 
 
 "True, Mrs. Browne," answered the Squire; who, to 
 do him justice, was not, at least on this occasion, so fiery 
 as his wife : " so if you please, let's have all out." 
 
 " Well then," says Mrs. Browne, " you shall : and first
 
 10 
 
 I must observe, that to find out whether we are going on 
 right in the management of our young ones, we should 
 consider what the Bible tells us of the nature of children, 
 and of the state in which human creatures are born into 
 this world. 
 
 " True," said the Squire, " that stands to reason Mrs. B." 
 
 "Now, you know, Squire, that the Bible teaches us, that 
 man's nature is altogether filthy and abominable; and that, 
 before he is renewed, every imagination of the thoughts of 
 his heart is only evil continually; and farther, that in con- 
 sequence of his exceeding sinfulness, every man born into 
 this world is born under a sentence of condemnation, and so 
 remains until he obtain forgiveness through the blood of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, and is made clean through his Spirit." 
 
 Squirt. Well, all that's true enough, Mrs. Browne. 
 
 ffrx. J. And so I suppose you think our children have 
 more natural sin than other people's children. Where's 
 your Christian charity now, Airs. Browne? 
 
 -)//>. B. I do not suppose they have more, but I know 
 fhey^ have as much, because we are told in the Bible, that 
 there is none jood, no, not one ; they are altogether sinful. 
 
 Squire. Wife, why do you interrupt Mrs. Browne? hear 
 what she has to say. 
 
 M -. B. I had not much to say : only this, that the nature* 
 of children being so very corrupt, and they being liable, in 
 consequence, to eternal punishment, it has ever appeared 
 to me to be the first duty of parents, and that to which all 
 other concerns should give way, to endeavour by every pos- 
 sible means, to fix religious principles in children's minds. 
 We cannot amend our children's evil natures we cannot 
 give them new hearts w > cannot give them faith, fbr faith 
 is the gift of God, the work of the Holy Spirit ; but we 
 may give them religious instruction, and set before them 
 such examples of holy living, as we hope with God's bless- 
 ini, they themselves will )e enabled to imitate. 
 
 '/-.. /. Well, and don't we give our children religious 
 instruction? Why. Mrs. B. sure your memory is very short! 
 
 M -. B. It is one thin j, Mrs. J., to teach our children 
 catechisms, hymns, an I texts of Scripture : and it is another 
 vhing to show them, by our example, that we are striving to 
 conform our lives to that pure word of God, which we cause 
 them to learn. Children take more notice of what passes 
 than we think. They soon fin ; out when the practice of 
 their parents agrees not with the lessons they teach. 
 
 71
 
 11 
 
 I don't understand you, Mrs. B., you must speak plainer 
 if you wish me to be better for what you have to say, said 
 Mrs. J., fanning herself more violently. 
 
 Mrs. B. The Bible is given us as a rule of life, and of 
 faith. Now, as I said before, it is of little use to teach 
 our children to read the Bible and to learn it by heart, 
 unless we also point out to them the necessity of their 
 being guided by it. The holy Scriptures contain both 
 precepts and promises : but unless we ourselves submit to 
 these precepts, we have no right to expect the accomplish- 
 ment with regard to our children. 
 
 Squire J. All this is true enough, Mrs. B.; but what 
 has all this to do with our children ? Come to the poinl 
 my good woman. What have you observed to day where- 
 in our practice goes against the Bible lessons which our 
 children have learned 'I 
 
 Mrs. B. Your three children had three different lessons 
 set them to day from the Bible. 
 
 Well, and so they had, Mrs. B., said Mrs. J. 
 
 Mrs. B. The first contained a command to those who had 
 this world's goods, to help the poor and needy; and while 
 your little girl was repeating the passage, a poor woman 
 came and asked alms. There was a good opportunity of 
 showing the child, by your practice, that you believed the 
 words she had just repeated to be the words of God, and 
 that you wished to manifest a ready obedience to them. 
 
 Mrs. J. And so I am to give to every idle vagabond 
 that comes to the house, for examples to the children ! 
 In such a case I should soon be in a way to ask charity 
 myself, I believe. 
 
 Mrs. B. No one was ever poorer for giving to those who 
 want; "for he that giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord." 
 
 Mrs. J. And I suppose I did wrong too in buying those 
 flowers and necklaces, because in Charlotte's verses wo- 
 men are forbidden to put on ornaments and finery ! And 
 my husband also did wrong, perhaps, in rejoicing over the 
 punishment of that vile fellow, Field ; because, forsooth, 
 we ought to do good to them that curse us, as William had 
 it written in his lesson to day ! Why, at that rate, we 
 must give up the world altogether, and be quite different 
 from other folks. 
 
 "Certainly," said Mrs. B., " we must either serve Gorl 
 or mammon. We cannot serve both." 
 
 " You are going too far now, Mrs. B.," said the Squire.
 
 12 
 
 " It was never intended that we should keep so close to 
 the Bible as you would make out. My wife and I are not 
 Methodists. We never set up for that ; nor did we ever 
 pretend to despise the world." 
 
 Mrs. B. looked grave, and answered, I have no more to 
 say, sir, than this, that if you trust in God, and serve him 
 sincerely, he will never forsake you, nor your children : 
 but if you strive to make the world your friend, you must 
 expect that things will not be with you as you could wish, 
 Remember the sweet passage in the Psalms : " Oh ye seed 
 of Abraham his servant, ye children of Jacob his chosen, 
 he is the Lord our God ; his judgments are in all the earth. 
 He hath remembered his covenant for ever, the word which 
 he commanded to a thousand generations which covenant 
 he made with Abraham, and his oatli unto Isaac ; and con- 
 firmed the same unto Jacob for a law, and to Israel for an 
 everlasting covenant ; saying, Unto thee will I give the land 
 of Canaan, the lot of your inheritance ; when they were 
 but a few men in number ; yea, very few, and strangers in 
 it. When they went from one nation to another, from one 
 kingdom to another people, he suffered no man to do them 
 wrong: yea, he reproved kings for their sakes; saying, 
 Touch not mine anointed, and do my prophets no harm," 
 Psa. cv, 6-15. It is better to have the blessing of God for- 
 our children, than the favour of the whole world. 
 
 The Squire looked grave as if weighing Mrs. B.'s words: 
 but Mrs. J. replied, " Well, Mrs. B., you and I can never 
 agree, I perceive, on this matter ; so we had better let it 
 rest. I don't wish to see my children Methodists, I can't 
 say I do." Whereupon she got up and' began stirring about 
 the room as if very busy. 
 
 The Squire put his segar in his mouth, and Mrs. B. took 
 her work. Soon after Mrs. B. said, " I must now be going, 
 to get my husband's tea," and Mrs. J. not pressing her to 
 stay as she would have done at another time, Mrs. B. went 
 home. And glad enough she was to find herself again in 
 her own room, with this comfortable reflection, that she had 
 been enabled, by God's grace, to deal sincerely with Mr, 
 and Mrs. J., though she feared with but little good effect. 
 
 PUBLISHED BT N. BANGS AND J. EMORY, 
 
 fix flio Tract Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, at the Conference 
 Office, 14 Crosby-street, New-York. 
 
 JKor Htyt, Ptfnten
 
 TO. 72. 
 
 1 Oh, then, that little book will bo the very thing for him," said the giddy girl. 
 a pray be euro to give it to him." Page 3. 
 
 THE PENNY TRACT. 
 
 '' i NOT many years ago, at the time when religious people 
 ^ first began to write tracts for the poor, two young ladies 
 were sitting one morning in July in an arbour in their 
 lather's garden. The weather was clear and fine, and 
 1 they were shaded from the burning rays of the sun, by the 
 honey suckles which covered the lattice work of the arbour, 
 and shed abroad their sweet smell throughout the garden. 
 These young ladies were not employed in useful works for 
 their own family, because their parents were rich, and 
 could afford to employ others to work for them ; neither 
 were they engaged in working for the poor, for, having 
 felt no troubles and wants themselves, they had no feeling 
 for the wants of others. Nor can I give much account of 
 what they were doing, though they had a table before them 
 covered with books and pencils, and work bags and boxes. 
 Now, while they were thus idling those precious hours, 
 which might have been " devoted in so many ways to the. 
 service of God," they saw an old man with a basket on his 
 arm, walk into the garden, and come towards them : he 
 was neatly dressed, and had a grave and decent aspect; he 
 came up close to the arbour, and, making a low bow, said. 
 " Ladies, will you please to buy some tracts ?" " Tracts,"
 
 repeated the elder of the sisters, " what are those? but I 
 see," added she, " you are a hawker, and go about, I sup- 
 pose, retailing two-penny books and songs up and down 
 the country ; no doubt your basket is full of all manner of 
 wicked trash ; such persons as you do great mischief, and 
 ouijht to be taken up and punished." 
 
 " Lady," said the old man, meekly, " if you will be 
 uleased to look at my books, you will find that they are 
 not such as you speak of. There was a time, I will honestly 
 say, when I got iny bread by selling such profane books 
 and ballads as you allude to ; but about three years ago, I 
 met with a godly lady, who laid before me the wretched- 
 ness of my way of life. This lady," proceeded he, " told 
 me that I should be doing less harm if I were to go about 
 poisoning every brook and fountain in the land than I did 
 in retailing such writings as infused poison into the heart : 
 those were her very words ; I should never forget them, 
 if I were to live to be a hundred years old ; and moreover," 
 added he, " this lady had the goodness to direct me to a 
 place where I could get religious tracts and holy songs for 
 sale ; so I followed her advice, and have pursued the trade 
 ever since." 
 
 Having thus spoken, the hawker took a few of his best 
 tracts out of his basket, and offered them to the young lady, 
 " And what are we to do with them?" said she, carelessly 
 glancing her eye upon them, as the old man held them 
 before her. " Give them to your poor neighbours, or your 
 servants, lady, if you have no use for them yourself," an- 
 swered the hawker. "Our neighbours," replied she, 
 " would not thank us for them, unless it were in default of 
 chips, when there was any haste to light a fire." " Lady !" 
 said the old man, gravely, " these books contain many holy 
 words." " Very likely," she answered, " but if no one 
 reads those holy words who will be the better for them ?" 
 " And wherefore should you suppose, lady," asked the 
 hawker, " that no one would read them 1 I have been 
 employed in selling books of this kind for three years, and 
 I know that many read them, and take infinite "delight in 
 them ; and I have actually known several who have gone 
 without a meal to procure one of them." " I see," said 
 the younger sister, smiling, " that you understand your 
 business, my good man : your books will not I'.e in your 
 basket for want of your good word, at any rate."
 
 "Lady," replied the old man, " I do not offer you such 
 wares as you cannot form a judgment of yourselves ; only 
 read one or two of my tracts, and, if you approve of their 
 contents, bestow them upon your poor neighbours; they 
 will assuredly read them, and if you do not presently see 
 the good effects of your kindness, they may nevertheless 
 appear hereafter ; for it is so written, ' Cast thy bread upon 
 the waters, and after many days thou shalt find it.'" 
 
 The young ladies seemed inclined to be diverted by 
 every thing the old man said, and one of them happening 
 to have a penny wrapped up in paper in her netting box, 
 tossed it carelessly into his basket, saying, that she hoped 
 to have one of his best articles in return. The old man 
 took the penny in his hand, bowed, and, sitting his basket 
 down, chose one of his best tracts (the title of which was 
 the Day of Judgment,) which he placed respectfully on 
 the table, and, taking up the basket, walked away. 
 
 The young ladies had amused themselves some min'ites 
 with laughing at the old man and his tracts, when a mise- 
 rably ragged woman, carrying a sickly infant in her arms, 
 presented herself at the garden gate, and began to ask alms 
 In a whining and sorrowful voice. The young ladies were 
 too much engaged with their own idle and merry conceits 
 
 I to observe this poor creature, who opened thp gate and 
 came up the gravel walk towards the arbour, as the hawker 
 had done before. As soon as the sisters perceived this 
 miserable object, they screamed, as if they had been fright- 
 ened : and then laughed at their own ridiculous fears. The 
 > poor woman, who was too much taken up by her own dis- 
 tresses k> regard either the affected screams or the laugh- 
 ter of the young people, now renewed her entreaties for 
 charity, upon \\hich the elder lady tossed her sixpence, 
 and the other looking archly at her sister, held out the 
 newly purchased tract to the beggar, saying, " There, take 
 that home : it is to do you a vast deal of good, how much 
 I cannot tell you." The poor woman received the little 
 book as seriously as<she supposed it had been offered to 
 her, and, making a courtesy, she answered, "I cannot read, 
 miss ; more is the pity ; but my husband is an extraordi- 
 nary good scholar." " Oh, then, that little book will be 
 the very thing for him," said the giddy girl, " so pray be 
 sure to give it to him." 
 
 The poor beggar, as I have before remarked, was by no
 
 ineans aware that these young ladies were jesting with her ; 
 but if she had been, it ought to have made no difference 
 in her opinion of the value of the tract for that which is 
 good would remain good still, though all the world were 
 to unite in saying it is nought ; and that which is evil 
 would be evil still, though earth and hell were joined to- 
 gether to say it is not so ; therefore those will assuredly 
 be confounded and brought to shame at last, who call good 
 evil, and evil good. Now this little book which the lady 
 had put into the hand of the beggar, was full of precious 
 matter, and many rich quotations from the word of God ; 
 and as the prophet Elijah did not find the meat which the 
 Lord sent him in the wilderness, less acceptable, because 
 it was brought to him by the ravens rather than the doves, 
 neither did this little volume lose aught of its real value, 
 by passing into the possession of the beggar through pro- 
 fane hands. 
 
 But to leave these reflections, and return to my story. 
 The poor woman was so well pleased with what she had 
 obtained from these ladies, that sHe made her best court- 
 esy, and turned her steps towards her miserable home : 
 but as she begged at the door of every house she passec 
 by the way, it was the afternoon before she reached he. 
 cottage. Tho dwelling of this poor woman was a house 1 
 on the borders of a common, which had been originally 
 well built, was sufficiently roomy, and stood in a spacious 
 patch of ground, where several fruit trees remained ; but, 
 notwithstanding all those advantages, the idleness and vice 
 of its present owner had rendered this place a scene of ruin, 
 desolation, and filth. The garden had been so long ne- 
 glected, that it was become a wilderness ; the broken win- 
 dows were stuffed with rags ; part of the chimney had 
 fallen ; the thatch was out of repair : and, in short, every 
 thing, both within and,without this miserable habitation, 
 bespoke the poverty, slovenliness, and idleness of its 
 inhabitants. The name of the man who possessed this 
 tenement was Francis Downes, the husband of the poor 
 beggar woman before mentioned ; he was an excellent 
 workman when he chose to work, and pretended to make 
 a living by cutting fruit trees, and jobbing about. in differ- 
 ent gardens ; but these were only pretences, for what he 
 gained in these honest ways was a mere trifle, whilst the 
 greater part of his livelihood was, in fact, obtained by
 
 poaching and pilfering. This man, about four years before, 
 had married a servant maid in a farm house. The woman 
 was a poor ignorant simple creature, who might, in good 
 hands, have made a quiet, tidy wife ; but she was by no 
 means fit to have to do with such a man as Frank Downes. 
 This poor creature he had often reduced to the extre- 
 mities of want; for, as his gains were uncertain, his whole 
 Jife was a round of feasts and fasts, days of riot, and long 
 periods of distress and penury. Poor Mary Downes felt 
 her misery, but did not know how to set about mending her 
 situation, for she was ignorant of her duties as a good 
 house wife or prudent mother ; and it was not likely that 
 she should acquire the knowledge of these duties, under 
 a man who kept her in a constant state of fear and distress 
 of mind. With respect to religion, this poor creature 
 knew about as much as is generally known by the lower 
 
 * order of servants in farm houses ; and that, I am sorry to 
 say, is generally little enough. Since her unhappy mar- 
 riage, she had laid one of her little ones in its grave, and 
 
 , she was often much distressed by the sickly appearance 
 of the child she carried in her arms, for, though helpless 
 and ignorant, she was a tender mother. 
 
 About a week before the time of which I am speaking, 
 Francis Downes had put out his ankle in one of his nightly 
 
 (I 'excursions, and having been, in consequence, closely con- 
 
 fined at home, and unable to work, he had made the 
 house appear to his wife more wretched than ever. They 
 
 - had also, at this time, been reduced to such distress, as 
 they had no credit, and never could contrive to have a 
 penny beforehand, that they had no resource left but to 
 apply to the parish or beg. Now Francis Downes knew 
 that he had so ill a name with the parish officers, that, if he 
 applied for relief, they would compel him to sell his small 
 house and bit of land, and perhaps force him to go with 
 his wife into the house of industry; he therefore' resolved 
 that he would not, if he could avoid it, ask them for help. 
 But, as they could not starve, he told his wife that she 
 must go a begging, and make as good a story for herself 
 as she could. The poor woman had suffered so much 
 ever since her husband had been confined at home, by his 
 harsh and cruel usage, that she was not sorry to get out 
 of his way for a short time, though it were for the pur- 
 pose of picking up a few pence, or a little broken meat
 
 by begging ; and being, as I have before remarked, ex- 
 tremely ignorant and simple, she had no idea of the dis- 
 gracefulness of endeavouring to remove her distress in this 
 way. She had been begging several days in different di- 
 rections with little success, but, on the day of which we 
 are now speaking, she was more fortunate, and returned 
 home very well satisfied with what she had acquired. 
 
 Francis Downes was sitting at the door cutting a cork 
 to make a float for his fishing line, when he saw his wife 
 come up to the gate. He saluted her, as his usual custom 
 was, with an oath or some abusive epithet; and, asking 
 her where she had been lugging the child, demanded what 
 she had brought back with her. " More than you deserve," 
 she answered, with more spirit than usual, showing him a 
 quantity of broken meat which she had fastened up in her 
 apron, and a few halfpence tied up in an old rag ; as to 
 the silver sixpence which the ladies had given her, she 
 kept that for herself and child, at some future time of need. 
 The man was well satisfied with what his wife had given, 
 and, getting up and hobbling into the house, he heaped a 
 few sticks on the fire, and sat down with her to sup on 
 what she had brought. 
 
 Whilst they were enjoying the broken meats, for they 
 were very hungry, the wife bethought herself of the book, 
 and, taking it from her pocket, she gave it to her husband, 
 repeating the lady's words. He laid down a bone which 
 he was picking, and, taking the book between his finger 
 and thumb, he looked at the title, shook his head, and 
 then dexterously tossed the tract from him upon a dresser, 
 at the other end of the room, and would, no doubt, have 
 thrown it farther, could he have done so without getting up. 
 
 " Don't you like it, Frank 7" said his wife. " Why 
 what's it about, that you are so angry with it 7" asked she, 
 "what's the subject of it?" "No matter 4 " replied the man, 
 " at any rate it is no business of yours." The poor woman 
 did not dare to ask any more questions about the book, 
 though she still felt some respect for it, from what the 
 ladies had said ; accordingly, when she was putting away 
 the things, after they had done their supper, she took the 
 tract from the upper part of the dresser, and put it into one 
 of the drawers. 
 
 The next day, Frank Downes, being tired of staying at 
 -home, thought he might make shift to hobble to a pond.
 
 which vvas in a wood not far off, to lay lines for fishing ; 
 accordingly he set out about five in the morning, but, com- 
 ing to an uneven part of the common, he stumbled and 
 fell, and, spraining his ankle a second time, he lay in dread- 
 ful pain, till a carter passing by with an empty cart, had 
 the charity to take him up and bring him home. His wife 
 had some trouble to get him to bed, and he groaned dread- 
 fully with the pain, whilst an old neighbour, who was very 
 clever in such matters, fomented his ankle; the pain, after 
 a while, was much less, but his foot remained so swollen 
 and weak, that it was necessary for him to be constantly 
 upon his bed. He was now, therefore, forced to make up 
 his mind to stay at home, whilst he sent his wife again 
 about the country to pick up what she could get by begging. 
 The bed on which Frank Downes lay was in the lower 
 story, and in the outer room, for the up stairs' rooms had 
 been for some time uninhabited, by reason of the rain 
 which in every part made its way through the roof; in 
 consequence of which the thoughtless pair, instead of get- 
 ting the thatch repaired, had removed their bed to the 
 lower floor. Frank accordingly, when his wife was out, 
 was left lying in the kitchen, being scarcely able to crawl 
 from the bed to the dresser, on which the poor woman took 
 care to leave his victuals. 
 
 The first day of her absence he strove to amuse himself 
 with mending his fishing tackle, and in this manner he 
 made shift to pass the time till his wife came back ; but 
 the next day he could find no such handy job, and he lay 
 from seven o'clock in the morning, at which time she went 
 out, quite alone, and having nothing but his own thoughts 
 to amuse him. Now, unless a man enjoys peace with 
 God, through the blood and merits of his dying Saviour, it 
 is seldom that he can find much satisfaction in discoursing 
 with his own thoughts. These indeed, were companions 
 of which Frank Downes was never very fond, and they 
 were particularly disagreeable to hi.n now, when he con- 
 sidered into what a situation he had brought himself. At 
 length, being unable to bear his own reflections any longer, 
 he made shift to get up, and, hobbling to the dresser, he 
 opened the very drawer into which his wife had put the 
 tract ; in this drawer, Frank Downes was used to keep a 
 roll of old ballads, with, which he thought he might now 
 puss a little time. 
 
 72
 
 8 
 
 The drawer, besides the tract so often mentioned, con- 
 tained an assortment of dirty rags, combs, and onions, 
 with such other stores of the like nature, as sluttish house 
 wives are apt to collect in the drawers of dressers and 
 other convenient repositories. Frank Downes turned this 
 rubbish over and over with one hand, whilst, in order to 
 ease his lame foot, he leaned on the dresser with the other, 
 but all in vain ; the ballads could not be found ; at length, 
 cursing his wife for her carelessness, and looking round 
 almost in despair for something with which he might pass 
 away the time, his eye again fell upon the tract which lay 
 in the drawer ; and though his nand had rejected it seve- 
 ral times whilst looking for the ballads, and notwithstand- 
 ing the title was very far from being tempting to such a 
 man as he then was, yet so hard pressed was he for some- 
 thing to do, that, he took it up, and, hobbling in great pain, 
 back to his bed, he threw himself down again in a very ill 
 humour. 
 
 Frank Downes lay, for a while, without looking at the 
 little book which he held in his hand ; but rinding his 
 thoughts again getting very troublesome, he at length had 
 recourse to it. The tract was written in a plain manner, 
 and gave a simple account of man's fall, and of his redemp- 
 tion by God the Son. It also spoke of man's depravity, 
 and of the manner in which his heart was changed, and 
 purified by the Holy Spirit. Much also was to be found 
 in this little book upon that grand and delightful subject, 
 the love of God the Father, for his creatures ; and this 
 affecting question and answer was put, " Which among 
 you would give his son to die for his friend 1" " Yet God 
 so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son to 
 die for it, even when it lay in open rebellion agajnst him." 
 It also treated of the day of judgment, of heaven and hell, 
 and pointed out somewhat more largely how one might be 
 obtained, and the other avoided. In short, this little book 
 contained much divine wisdom, and, had it been valued at 
 a thousand guineas instead of a penny, it would have been 
 rated infinitely below its value that is, if we consider the 
 good that it was the means, under Providence, of convey- 
 ing to the soul of the poor sinner. 
 
 Frank Downes was a ready reader, and therefore he was 
 no great time in perusing the little treatise from beginning 
 to end ; and, when he had finished it, he threw it from him.,
 
 Using, at the same time, one of his profane expression. 
 But, although the poor man could throw away the book, it 
 was well for him that he could not so easily throw away 
 the ideas which the book had just put into his head ; though 
 he did his utmost to get rid of them. Nevertheless, they 
 worked upon him in such a way that ke presently became, 
 as it were, like a raging lion or bear, and the weariness of 
 his mind was, in comparisqn, far greater than the pain of 
 his ankle. 
 
 It would take a much longer space than I have to spare, 
 to describe, at full length, the manner in which this little 
 tract, with the divine blessing, wrought on this man's mind ; 
 it made him at first, as I have just said, quite angry, and 
 he showed his anger by raging at all religion and religious 
 books and people whatever. In this humour he remained 
 several days, till, his anger being in some measure spent, 
 he became very low, and then it pleased the Lord to visit 
 him with a deep conviction of sin. At this time he took 
 up the tract again, reading it over and over, and calling to 
 mind all his sins and transgressions ; and such, at length, 
 was the horror and despair which he manifested, that his 
 poor wife, not knowing what else to do, called the minis- 
 |er to him. 
 
 Now it happened that the minister was a truly pious man, 
 who knew that the foundations of true religion must be laid 
 in deep humility, and that a man must feel the burthen of 
 i his sins, before he can be brought to lay hold of the Sa- 
 viour. He therefore went to work in the right way, and 
 endeavoured, with the divine help, to give the poor man a 
 still more clear idea of the dreadful nature of sia, and of 
 the lost and undone state of all mankind by nature. He 
 then proceeded to show him more plainly what the Saviour 
 had done for sinners, assuring him, at the same time, that, 
 unless he were willing to give up all his sins, he never 
 could have any interest in Christ. He also explained to 
 him more largely the offices of the Holy Spirit, and the 
 powers which it possessed of cleansing and purifying the 
 heart. Thus the good minister discoursed with the poor 
 man while still confined to his bed, and opened his mind 
 upon many points of doctrine to which he had never be- 
 fore given a thought ; he also gave him a Bible, and lent 
 him several good books. 
 
 Notwithstanding the frequent visits of the minister, it 
 72
 
 10 
 
 was some time before it pleased the Lord to give Frank 
 Downes even so much light or comfort, as to enable him 
 to conceive it possible for him to be saved ; but, after a 
 while, hope broke in upon him, and he became possessed 
 of much peace of mind. During the former part of the 
 time in which he lay under conviction, he made his wife 
 more miserable than ever ; but, when he began to have a 
 sense of the divine favour, and to conceive that he was not 
 altogether a lost one, his manner became more gentle, and 
 his poor wife and infant soon began to feel the benefit of the 
 change which had passed upon him. But not to lengthen 
 out this story too far, I must say, in a few words, that it 
 pleased the Almighty that the little tract, sent by the young 
 ladies to this poor man, should be the beginning of a very 
 great change in him ; and thus the Lord often blesses a 
 very small thing to the production of some mighty work. 
 As soon as Frank Downes was able to walk, he went to 
 return his thanks to the minister for his kindness, and to 
 consult him concerning his future mode of life. Frank 
 Downes was most kindly received by the minister, who 
 rejoiced to see so good a work begun and going on, as he 
 hoped, in the heart of this poor man who had hitherto 
 been reckoned the worst character in the neighbourhood. 
 The minister took this occasion to point out to him the 
 necessity under which he lay, in order to prove his calling, 
 of leaving all his evil habits, and of endeavouring to pro- 
 cure his livelihood in an honest way. Moreover, he brought 
 forward to him this verse " A good tree cannot bring 
 forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good 
 fruit ; every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn 
 down and cast into the fire, wherefore by their fruils ye 
 shall know them." Frank Downes promised the minister, 
 that he would never again have a hand in any thing unlaw- 
 ful ; and I am happy to say that grace was given him to 
 enable him to keep this resolution; and, although it was 
 some time before he could get into a regular and profita- 
 ble way of business, yet he never fell again into his old 
 evil courses, though he afterwards confessed he had many 
 temptations to do so. Thus the Almighty, who had so re- 
 markably and through such slender mean's commenced this 
 mighty work of restoring a wandering sinner to himself, 
 failed not, by degrees, to bring his work to perfection. 
 It would take much more time than I have to spare to
 
 11 
 
 give an account of the happy change which took place iu 
 the house and family of Francis Downes, after he became 
 pious. How true are the words of the Holy Scriptures, 
 " Godliness is profitable to all things, having promise of 
 the life that now is, and of that which is to come." What a 
 
 valuable pennyworth was that which the ladies sent to Fran- 
 cis Downes ! For, as I said before, it was certainly the means 
 (under God) of bringing to pass this happy change in the 
 heart and family of the poor man. We know that it is 
 the Lord by whom these mighty events are brought to pass, 
 but the Almighty is generally pleased to work by means, 
 and blessed are those whom he chooses to employ as 
 instruments of his works of mercy. 
 
 It was more than three years from the time when my 
 story first began, that the same two young ladies, of whom 
 I first spoke, were walking one fine summer's evening on 
 the borders of the common on which Frank Downes's house 
 was situated. Since that period in which they were sit- 
 ting in the arbour, they had had many troubles, and were 
 at the present time in deep mourning for their father. 
 They were, therefore, not now, as formerly, disposed to 
 giggle and laugh at every thing they heard and saw, but 
 were prepared, through the divine blessing on their afflic- 
 tions, to receive better impressions. So they walked on 
 till they came to Francis Downes's cottage ; I have de- 
 scribed the appearance of this place before its owner be- 
 came pious, and I will now endeavour to picture it to my 
 reader again after that happy event had taken place. 
 And first, the thatch which had been faulty in many places, 
 was neatly repaired, and the rags and paper taketf-out of 
 the window, and in their places were whole and clean 
 panes of glass. The garden, too, which had looked like a 
 wilderness, was now neatly laid out, and abounded with all 
 manner of common fruits and vegetables; the little wicket, 
 which had formerly scarce held together, though fastened 
 by wisps of straw, was repaired and standing upright ; 
 and the path which led from thence to the house door, 
 neatly laid with pebbles. 
 
 When the two ladies came up to the wicket and looked 
 over it into the garden, they expressed some surprise at the 
 neat and thriving appearance of all about the house, and 
 one said to the other, " Is not this the place whose wretch- 
 ed appearance we always remarked whenever we came
 
 12 
 
 this way?" "Let us go in," replied the other, "and iru 
 quire into this extraordinary amendment; perhaps the 
 house has changed its inhabitants." Accordingly the two 
 young ladies went up to the house, and knocking at the 
 door it was presently opened by a decent looking woman, 
 with one child in her arms and another following her. The 
 ladies looked at the cottager, and she at them for a few 
 moments before they recollected each other. At length 
 one of the sisters said, ' ; Surely you cannot be the person 
 who some time ago came begging to our house, with a 
 child in your arms, a person to whom I gave a book." 
 " Indeed, indeed, ladies I am," said the poor woman, 
 smiling, " and I have reason to remember that day to the 
 longest hour I have to live." The poor woman then 
 invited 'the young ladies to come into her neat kitchen, 
 where, setting them each a chair, she told them what a 
 wonderful work the book which they had sent her husband 
 had, through the divine blessing, wrought in him, and how 
 his heart had been changed, and his conduct to her so 
 much amended, that from being the most miserable of 
 women she was now become one of the happiest ; " for 
 ladies," said she, " when I was so ill used by my husband, 
 and saw my poor child pining for want, I had no heart to 
 set my house to rights, or mend and wash my clothes ; 
 and as to religion, I could not read, and knew nothing 
 about it, nor was likely to know, for I never set my foot in 
 a place of worship; and such was my ignorance, that when 
 I laid my eldest boy in his grave, I was quite without com- 
 fort respecting him, and was ready almost to lay myself on 
 the cold earth by his side ; but, now that it has pleased 
 the Lord to change the heart of my husband, and to put 
 it into his mind to teach me my duty to God, I am become 
 quite another creature, and go about my work as it were 
 with a new heart. I have ever seen reason to rejoice in 
 that which at one time brought me almost to despair, I 
 mean the death of my little darling, inasmuch as I am now 
 convinced that all is ordered and directed by our heavenly 
 Father for the good of his people." Here the poor woman 
 burst into tears, but they were tears of joy ; and, as she 
 wiped them away with her apron, she gave such a look to the 
 ladies as spoke her feeling of the obligations she owed them. 
 I cannot describe what these ladies felt on this occa- 
 sion, but they looked at each other, aivd one said to the 
 
 72
 
 13 
 
 other, " I now remember the words of that good old man 
 who sold the tract to us 'Cast thy bread upon the wa- 
 ters, and after many days thou shalt find it ;' but we can 
 take no credit to ourselves on this occasion, we must give 
 all the glory to God." 
 
 Now I do not pretend to say, that every one who gives 
 away a Bible or tract, or other good book, will always be 
 made so sensible of the good he has been allowed to bring 
 to pass as those ladies were, and perhaps it would not be 
 well for him if it were ; nevertheless, of this we are as- 
 sured, that if we labour in disseminating the word of God 
 and the principles of our religion, our work will not be 
 without effect, for it is written in the prophet Isaiah, chap. 
 lv, 10, 11, " For as the rain cometh down, and the snow 
 from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the 
 earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give 
 seed id the sower, and bread to the eater ; so shall my 
 word be that goeth forth out of my mouth : it shall not 
 return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which 1 
 please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it." 
 
 ANECDOTES ON TRACTS. 
 
 The following accounts are from various respectable 
 sources. 
 
 " A female servant having heard one of the children read 
 the tract, entitled, 'The Dairyman's Daughter,' became 
 exceedingly interested in the narrative ; and from that 
 time was deeply impressed with a sense of her sinful con- 
 dition in the sight of God. She for some time continued 
 in a state of great distress ; and was continually haunted by 
 dreadful forebodings and fears. Her master and mistress 
 felt deeply interested in her welfare, and took pains, by 
 reading the Holy Scriptures, and such books as they 
 thought suitable, to afford her instruction and consolation, 
 Her mind, under the blessing of God, was gradually re- 
 lieved ; and suffice it to say, that although before, like the 
 * Dairyman's Daughter,' she was ' all for the world, for 
 pleasure, and for dress,' she now loves her Bible, seeks 
 solitude, and enjoys prayer. It may be proper to say that 
 she expresses great esteem for ' The Dairyman's Daugh* 
 :> 2
 
 14 
 
 rer;' and next to her Bible, loves that Tract above all 
 books, as that which she accounts the means of her cbn- 
 version to God." 
 
 " A lady of L read the tracts entitled, ' The 
 
 African Servant,' and ' The Dairyman's Daughter ;' she 
 began to discover that all was not right, which led her to 
 examine her state before God, and attend more seriously 
 both to the public and private duties of religion, earnestly 
 desiring and praying for the grace of God which bringeth 
 salvation. Not feeling at liberty to open her mind to those 
 about her, who. alas! were strangers to spiritual and divine 
 
 things, she determined to take a journey to H , for the 
 
 sole purpose (as she expressed herself to her brother) of 
 obtaining farther light and understanding in the things of 
 God. During her stay in H , she uniformly manifest- 
 ed the disposition of those who ' hunger and thirst after 
 righteousness.' Inquiring the way to Zion, with her face 
 thitherward, she was directed to ' th^Lamb of God, which) 
 taketh away the sin of the world;' and seemed to discover' 
 an increased knowledge in divine things. Returning home 
 she united herself with the Lord's people, and has since; 
 maintained the character of an humble and consistent 
 Christian." j 
 
 11 The tract entitled, ' The Dairyman's Daughter,' \ist>- 
 pened to fall into the hands of a woman of notoriously 
 wicked character ; the title attracted her notice, and 'in- 
 vited her perusal. She was frequently tempted to cast it 
 from her, but 
 
 ' God moves in a mysterious way 
 ; His wonders to perform.' 
 
 She had read only three pages when the scales dropped 
 from her -eyes, and the veil was rent from her heart; she 
 was constrained to cry aloud for the disquietude of her soul ; 
 she went on her way mourning for several weeks; but. 
 that God, who has promised to heal the broken hearted, 
 burst her bonds asunder, and set her soul at liberty. She 
 is now an humble follower of Jesus, and an ornament to 
 the Christian religion ; she also bids fair for usefulness in 
 the church of Christ. Thus, sir, we have seen one sinner, 
 a second Magdalene, saved by grace ; let all the glory be 
 ascribed to the Lord." 
 
 A minister writes : " Tracts are very useful here : ' The 
 
 72
 
 15 
 
 Dairyman's Daughter' has oeen blessed in four instances. 
 Since I have been on this island many have believed, 
 through grace, to the salvation of their souls." 
 
 " ' The Dairyman's Daughter' was read in B , at 
 
 a religious conference. A revival of religion immediately 
 commenced ; and whe.a several were, a few months after, 
 admitted to the church, eight traced their first serious 
 impressions to the reading of that tract." 
 
 " I dropped two small tracts in the road : a wicked 
 ship carpenter picked them up, and uttered a volley ol' 
 horrible imprecations, with some opprobrious language 
 against the description of persons supposed to have drop- 
 ped them. He had proceeded but a short way, when he 
 met with another. It had fallen in the middle of the road 
 into the mud. He uttered another dreadful oath, and ex- 
 claimed, he ' would not take up that." 1 He went past it a 
 short distance, but suddenly turned round, leaped over a 
 ditch between him and the carriage road, and having 
 picked up the tract, began to read it. It was ' The 
 Swearer's Prayer.' After reading a few lines, he came 
 to these words, ' Tremble, swearer, while I tell thee,' &c. 
 Immediately the stout hearted sinner began literally to 
 tremble. He felt himself ' slain by the commandment ;' 
 guilty, and self condemned. He went home in great dis- 
 tress of mind, and so continued about three months, when 
 he found peace with God through justifying faith in Christ, 
 and has since walked agreeably to the gospel." 
 
 " An officer in the Royal navy being on a visit in Bris- 
 tol, his friend presented him with a tract. ,* Vs'soon as he 
 ascertain -d what it was, he threw it from him with dis- 
 dain, thinking himself insulted by being placed on a level 
 with the poor, for whose use alone he considered tracts 
 were intended. The lady was not thereby intimidated, 
 but observing that he was fond of smoking a pipe in the 
 summer house, she placed ' The Swearer's Prayer' on the 
 floor, as if by accident. Observing it lying there, he had 
 the curiosity to examine what it was. Finding it a tract, 
 he was on the point of throwing it away ; but being alone, 
 his pride did' not take the alarm, as in the former instance. 
 He read it with astonishment, and with gratitude to God 
 for not having cut him off in his sinful courses became 
 an anxious inquirer, ' What must I do to be saved V was 
 directed to Christ Jesus the Lord, whose blood cleanseth 
 
 72
 
 16 
 
 from all sin ; found rest to his soul ; und became as emi- 
 nent {or piety as he had been for fofaneness" 
 
 " A young man, the son of an opulent tradesman in the 
 neighbourhood where I reside, who seldom opened his 
 jnouth but to show the abomination of his heart, had ' The 
 Swearer's Prayer' put into his hand. It was blessed to his 
 soul ; he left off this revolting custom, and sent for a con- 
 siderable number of the same tract to distribute to his 
 former companions. He lived but a few months after- 
 wards, but left a dying testimony of a saving change; and, 
 with pale and quivering lips, almost in his expiring mo- 
 ments, said, ' J31ess God for the Tract Society ! Oh, 
 what a mercy ! What a, mercy ! Blessed man, who wrote 
 that little tract!'" 
 
 . " As I was passing a little brook in the country, I obser- 
 ved a good looking farmer beating his oxen unmercifully, 
 and uttering at tiie same time awful imprecations. I alight- 
 ed from my chaise, placed in his hand ' The Swearer's 
 Prayer,' and went on my journey. Two years after, a 
 stranger entered my counting house, and said to me, with 
 |oy in his countenance, ' How do you do ?' I answered, 
 ' You are probably mistaken in the person, sir.' ' Did you 
 never,' said he, ' give The Swearer's Prayer, to a farmer 
 who was whipping his oxen and swearing at them ?' ' I 
 recollect the circumstance,' said I, and observed his tears. 
 I have reason,' said he, ' to blush at the acknowledg- 
 ment, but I am the man.' Then taking my hand, he con- 
 tinued, ' I am grateful that I have found my deliverer. I 
 can never pay you. Take all my property, and every thing 
 I have ; and it shall all go, before I will part with that 
 tract which you so kindly placed in my hands, and which 
 Mini; deep into my soul. It was my salvation ! It was 
 my all ! And you have not only sent salvation to my soul, 
 but my wife, alarmed at my distress, was soon awakened 
 to a sense of her duty; and my second daughter and 
 eldest son are now jbyful companions with us, in conse- 
 quence of your giving me that little Tract,' " 
 
 PUBLISHED BY N. BANGS AND J. EMORY, 
 
 s Tract Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, at A 
 Office, 14 Crosby-street, New-York. 
 
 Aior Hoyt, Printer,
 
 NO. 73. 
 
 A LETTER 
 
 OJV THE SUBJECT OF PRAYER. 
 
 BY JANE TAYLOR. 
 
 As my time is limited, I cannot devote much of it to 
 subjects of inferior moment ; but must address myself at 
 once to that which is all important, and in which all other 
 advices are included. But in treating this subject, there is 
 a peculiar difficulty in addressing those who, like you, are 
 continually reminded of its importance, both by private and 
 public instruction ; to whom, therefore, every argument 
 is familiar and must appear common-place. Nor would I 
 be thought to infer, by any remarks I may make, that your 
 minds are not already impressed, more or less, with the 
 importance of the subject. But from experience I know 
 what need there is of being incessantly quickened and 
 roused afresh ; and it sometimes happens that a word 
 I'rom a comparative stranger has more effect than the same 
 thing suggested by a familiar voice. 
 
 But now I know not where to begin, nor how to find 
 language to reach the heights and depths of this boundless 
 subject. No language indeed can do this, and therefore 
 we find in the Scriptures no attempt is made beyond the 
 most plain and simple statements ; but which are, on that 
 very account, the more striking. What, for instance, could 
 the utmost powers of language add in force to that question, 
 " WhaWshall it profit a man if he gain the whole world, 
 and lose his own soul ?" and, my dear friends, there is 
 very great danger, notwithstanding all the warnings and 
 admonitions we receive there is very great danger of losing 
 our souls! It is so easy to pass on from one stage of life to 
 another from youth to age, with good intentions towards 
 religion, and with a common, respectable attention to it, 
 without once coming to the point, without once tasting the 
 happiness of a good hope or enjoying the supreme satisfac- 
 tion of making a full surrender of our hearts and lives toGod. 
 Multitudes of the professors of religion thus live and thus 
 die making their comfort and prosperity in this life their 
 chief object of pursuit: and paying only so much attention 
 to religion as they deem absolutely necessary to escape eter-
 
 2 
 
 nal destruction. But this is not Christianity, as the Scrip- 
 tures describe it ; and it is surprising that, with the Bible 
 in his hands, any person can make so great a mistake 
 about it. If God has not our hearts, we are not his. He 
 will accept nothing less. If our affections are not in hea- 
 ven, we shall never reach it. I remember that during my 
 youth, I was for many years greatly discouraged, and almost 
 in despair at last, on this account feeling the impossibility 
 of bringing my earthly mind to prefer spiritual things to 
 love God better than the world. At length in a letter from 
 a pious friend, I was reminded that this great work, though 
 impossible to me, was easy to Him ; and that he had pro- 
 mised to do it for all who ask. From that time my difficulties 
 began to yield. I saw how absurd it was to doubt the 
 promise of God ; and that it was in respect to these very 
 difficulties that he says, " Seek and ye shall find." So 
 that I began to see with unspeakable joy that the hardness, 
 reluctance, and earthliness of my heart were no real ob- 
 stacles, provided that I did but apply to Him for a cure. 
 Yes, to cast ourselves entirely on God, to do all for us, 
 in the diligent use of means, is the sure the only way to 
 Obtain the benefit. But it is surprising what reluctance 
 there is in the mind to do this ; and how ready we are to 
 try every other means first ; especially we are unwilling 
 to come by a simple act of faith to the Saviour, and to 
 accept from him a remedy for all the evils of our nature ; 
 although there is no other way : how much labour is often 
 lost for want of this. Come to him, my dear friends, and 
 " he will not cast you out." He declares he will not ! 
 and come as you are. It is Satan's constant artifice to 
 persuade us that we must wait till we are fit to come ; and 
 as this faith that believes and lives, however simple, is the 
 gift of God, pray incessantly importunately, till you re- 
 ceive it. 
 
 I am sure you are all convinced already, that delay, 
 neglect, or indifference in religion, is the greatest folly 
 the deepest cruelty we can practise towards ourselves, as 
 it respects our interests in the future world. And, indeed, 
 it is so as to this world too. I have seen something more 
 of life than you ; and I have lived long enough to see that 
 promise in numerous instances fulfilled, that " they who 
 seek first the kingdom of God" have other things added 
 to them, in a more special' and desirable way than those 
 
 73
 
 who make them the primary object. I am firmly convinced 
 that, taking the whole of life together, the most pious and 
 devoted persons such as made an early and complete 
 surrender of heart and life to God have most real pros- 
 perity and success in this world, as well as infinitely more 
 enjoyment of earthly good. But really this is a point 
 scarcely worth proving, when the interests of a boundless 
 futurity are concerned ; yet as it is one of the chief illusions 
 of " the father of lies," to persuade persons that, in be- 
 coming decidedly religious, they must sacrifice the choicest 
 pleasures of life, and that God's ways are not " ways of 
 pleasantness," it is desirable to expose the falsehood. All 
 the real and reasonable enjoyments of life are entirely com- 
 patible, not only with an ordinary profession of religion, 
 but with the highest spirituality of mind ; and are greatly 
 sweetened by it, if kept in their subordinate place : and as 
 for the rest the gayety, the vanity, the evil tempers, the 
 restless desires of a worldly heart, its selfishness and fro- 
 wardness, and all those indulgences which are forbidden 
 to us, they are as certainly destructive of our true interests 
 and happiness here, as of our eternal happiness. Of this 
 truth, experience too late convinces the most successful 
 votaries of this world. But let us rise above these lower 
 considerations; the question is are we desirous to se- 
 cure the salvation of our souls ? And it is impossible to fix 
 a steady thought on eternity without being so. Then let 
 us take the Bible for our rule, and never rest till we have 
 a Scriptural foundation for our hope ; nor till our life, as 
 well as our creed, is conformed to its precepts and exam- 
 ples. Allow me then to mention those means which are 
 most essential to the attainment of this happiness. 
 
 To use means is our part; it is a comparatively easy 
 part ; and if we will not even do this, it shows that we are 
 not at all in earnest on the subject. I will mention, then, 
 as the first and the last as that which is indispensable to 
 our making any progress in religion daily constant prayer. 
 I am aware that where this habit has not bee* formed very 
 early, there may be a sort of awkwardness and false shame 
 felt in the commencement of it in a family ; but it is a false 
 shame, which a little effort will conquer ; and a short time 
 entirely remove. I believe you know that it was my in- 
 tention to have recommended this practice to you, if not 
 already adopted j and nqw I cannot feel satisfied without
 
 doing so ; for if ever I was sure that I was giving good ad- 
 vice, I am sure of it in this instance ; and I will I must 
 most earnestly request your attention to it. Perhaps some 
 of you might reply that, seldom feeling inclined to prayer, 
 it would generally be a formal and heartless service ; but 
 this is the very reason why it must never be neglected. 
 This reluctance to spiritual engagements is what the best 
 of Christians have to combat with ; and it can only be 
 overcome by prayer. If then you were to wait till you are 
 of yourselves so disposed, depend upon it, you would pass 
 through life, and plunge into eternity in a prayerless state ; 
 and although you may often engage in private devotion 
 with little feeling, and no apparent benefit, yet there is one 
 certain advantage gained by it, namely that the habit is 
 strengthened ; and as we are creatures of habit, and God 
 has made us so, he requires us to avail ourselves of its 
 important advantages. If there is any one thing more than 
 another among the many privileges of a religious educa- 
 tion for which I feel thankful, it is the having been trained 
 from my early years to retire morning and evening for 
 this purpose. I found that a habit thus early and strongly 
 formed, was not easily broken through, notwithstanding all 
 the vanity of my youthful years : and however much I have 
 to lament the abuse of it, yet, if ever I have known any 
 thing of religion, it is to the closet I must trace it ; and I 
 believe that universal experience testifies that our comfort 
 and progress in the divine life are entirely regulated by the 
 punctuality and fervency of our engagements there. There 
 is no need that the exercises should be tedious ; a short 
 portion of scripture read with thought : and a few simple 
 sentences uttered with the whole heart, are far preferable 
 to a much longer address, in which the same heartless 
 phraseology is continually repeated. But as your desires 
 enlarge so will your petitions; and the more you are in 
 earnest, the less liable you will be to fall into hacknied 
 and formal expressions. 
 
 There is another practice which, next to prayer and 
 reading the Scriptures, I have found most profitable ; I 
 mean reading once every day, at the time either of morn- 
 ing or evening retirement, a few pages of some pious book. 
 selecting for this purpose, not the light productions of 
 the day, but the writings of the most eminently useful and 
 impressive authors. Christian biography also is pecu-
 
 Harly profitable. This custom need not add inorc thaa 
 ten minutes to the time of retirement; and it is, I think, 
 one of the very best means for retaining a daily impres- 
 sion of serious things. Habit, also, (try it for one month 
 and see if it is not so,) will render this pleasant, even 
 though it should seem irksome at first. If you will excuse 
 my entering into such minute particulars, (which I should 
 not on any other subject) I will add that the most advan- 
 tageous time for the purposes I have recommended is 
 not that of retiring for the night ; drowsiness will gene- 
 rally invade us then ; besides few young people can be 
 quite alone at that time ; and prayer said by the bed side, 
 with a companion present, is not I might almost say 
 cannot be personal prayer. It is a good I will call it a 
 blessed custom, for a family to disperse to their respective 
 places of retirement half an hour before supper. Nor is 
 it, you must be aware, from my own experience alone that 
 I recommend it ; for it is a practice which I know to be 
 strictly observed by all my pious friends, and which I have 
 remarked in every serious family in which I ever visited. 
 As to the morning, it is highly desirable that it should take 
 place before breakfast, as afterwards it interferes with other 
 duties, and is in great danger of being quite neglected. 
 Besides, it is as essential to the health of the body as of 
 the soul, to rise at least early enough for such a purpose. 
 I fear I shall tire you, and will mention but one other thing, 
 and that is the advantage of a more particular improve- 
 ment of sabbath evenings, as the time most suitable for 
 longer retirement and deeper thoughtfulness than the 
 engagements of other days will admit. 
 
 My dear friends, be not contented with low aims and 
 small attainments in religion : they are indeed fearful 
 signs of insincerity, or at best proceed from a merely sla- 
 vish fear of the consequences of quite neglecting it. Oh 
 do aspire to something beyond an ordinary reputable pro- 
 fession of it ! Here ambition is sanctified. Determine to 
 number yourselves among the happy few, and do not be 
 discouraged by difficulties, nor think it too much for you to 
 attain. It is not humility, but inactivity and despondency 
 that leads us to think so. God will give us all the grace, 
 and strength, and ability, we really desire and ask for. 
 
 And let me affectionately recommend you early to seek 
 to be engaged in some sphere of active usefulness. Doing
 
 6 
 
 good is the most excellent means of getting good. There 
 is no mistake greater than to suppose that we are sent 
 into the world only to attend, however industriously, to 
 our own personal, or even family interests. Love to our 
 neighbour demands our active exertions in his behalf; 
 and we are all required more or less " to go and work in 
 the vineyard." We have all a talent entrusted to us; and 
 what shall we say when our Lord comes if we have not 
 improved it? Did you never remark in reading the 16th 
 chapter of the epistle to the Romans, how St. Paul, in his 
 salutations particularizes those who were most zealously 
 engaged in good works? "Phebe, a servant of the church, 
 and a succourer of many ;" " Priscilla and Aquila, his 
 helpers in Christ ;" " Mary, who bestowed much labour 
 on them ;" " Persis, w-ho laboured much in the Lord." 
 While he passes over with a slight remembrance, or notes 
 with censure, others, who " minded only their own things, 
 and not the things that are Jesus Christ's." 
 
 It must have been gratifying to have been thus distin- 
 guished by the apostle ; but oh, how much more so to be 
 approved by Him, who for our good requires these services 
 from us; and to hear him say at last, "Well done, good 
 and faithful servant !" We should suffer no day to pass 
 without thinking of, and acting for that day when we shall 
 be " judged according to our works," as the only evidences 
 of our faith; and very encouraging is that kind and consi- 
 derate expression of our Lord, concerning a poor woman, 
 showing that he is no hard master, and not unreasonable 
 in his requisitions, " she hath done what she could." But 
 how few of us deserve this praise ! I am persuaded you 
 would find useful activity one of the best preservatives 
 against the innumerable temptations to which, as youth 
 advances, you will be exposed. How many young persons 
 have blessed God that ever they were led to engage in 
 Sunday school teaching ! It profitably occupies the time 
 which, if wasted in frivolity and indulgence, leads to the 
 worst consequences; and in teaci-mg others, a double 
 blessing often descends upon the teacher. 
 
 But in engaging in active usefulness, especially when 
 we are required to associate with others, there are evils to 
 be guarded against ; and we must be clad with the impene- 
 trable armour of Christian simplicity ai^ meekness, in 
 order to avoid them, We may have to encounter those
 
 who are officious, unreasonable, monopolizing, ambitious, 
 and overbearing ; and if any similar tempers are indulged 
 in ourselves, continual contention must ensue. 
 
 The only way is to rise superior to those petty jealousies, 
 and inferior motives ; to do good for its own sake alone ; 
 to persevere in a quiet forbearing, yielding, line of conduct, 
 which never fails to disappoint and weary out the most 
 troublesome, at last. And even if any should say to us, 
 however unjustly " Friend, go down lower," our wisdom 
 and happiness is to submit with good grace, and cheerfully 
 to labour in an humbler sphere. 
 
 The temper and conduct which are called " spirited," 
 in ascertaining our rights and maintaining our conse- 
 quence, is as unwise and impolitic as it is unchristian like. 
 Nothing forms so truly great and dignified a character as 
 " the meekness and gentleness of Christ." 
 
 But with regard to our conduct, whether at home or 
 abroad, we cannot mistake if we will but follow the pre- 
 cepts of Scripture in their plain and literal sense. This is 
 too much neglected strangely neglected even by those 
 who profess to make the Bible their rule. If we had no 
 other directions whatever for our conduct than those con- 
 tained in that beautiful chapter, the 12th to the Romans, 
 it would make a heaven of earth were they but attended to. 
 It is an excellent chapter to read very often, and deeply 
 and daily to study. It would make a little paradise of any 
 society or family where its spirit was imbibed ; and after 
 all, it is at home in the bosom of our families, in our daily 
 and hourly tempers and conduct, that we have the best 
 opportunity of practising holy obedience to the command- 
 ments of Christ. Keeping these commandments " which 
 are not grievous" though we are prone to think they arc 
 till we try, implies a continual exercise of self denial ; and 
 if we are conscious that we make no such sacrifices that 
 we are not in the habit of denying ourselves, it is plain 
 that we are not following him at all ; for those who do 
 must bear some cross. There is indeed something in the 
 very sound of the word self denial, which alarms our indo- 
 lence, indulgence, pride, and wilfulness ; but it is a false 
 alarm; for these very qualities indolence, indulgence, 
 pride, and wilfulness, are the greatest enemies to our peace 
 and happiness ; and one day's experience is enough to 
 show that, in proportion as they are resisted and mortified,
 
 s 
 
 we are comfortable, tranquil, and happy. May God.bless 
 you all, and lead every one of you safely through this dan- 
 gerous world, to his eternal rest ! This is the earnest hope, 
 and will be the frequent prayer of your sincere and affec- 
 tionate friend. 
 
 PRAYER is appointed to convey 
 
 The blessings God designs to give : 
 Long as they live should Christians pray 
 
 They learn to pray when first they live. 
 If pain afflict, or wrongs oppress, 
 
 If cares distract, or fears dismay; 
 If guilt deject ; if sin distress ; 
 
 In every case, still watch and pray. 
 'Tis prayer supports the soul that's weak : 
 
 Though thought be broken, language lame. 
 Pray, if thou canst, or canst not speak : 
 
 But pray with faith in Jesus' name. 
 Depend on Him ; thou canst not fail ; 
 
 Make all thy wants and wishes known : 
 Fear not ; his merits must prevail : 
 
 Ask but in faith, it shall be done. 
 
 I WOULD believe that thou art He 
 Who came from heaven to die for me : 
 Saviour of men, the power supply, 
 Nor leave me in my sins to die : 
 A sinner on thy mercy cast, 
 I mourn for my offences past ; 
 O for thy own dear sake forgive, 
 And saved by faith my soul shall live. 
 If now thy precious grace I feel 
 Which melts my stubbornness of will 
 If crush'd by unbelief I groan, 
 And languish for a God unknown, 
 One ray of light and comfort dart, 
 One spark of faith into my heart, 
 And let me feel thy sprinkled blood, 
 And see thee now my Lord my God 
 
 PUBLISHED BT N. BANGS AKD J. EMORY, 
 
 For the Tract Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, at the Conference 
 Office, 14 Crosby-street, New-York. 
 
 Atvr Beyt, Printer. 73
 
 NO. 74, 
 A STRANGE THING. 
 
 I FIND by conversation with my neighbours, and from the 
 perusal of books and pamphlets which they are frequently 
 putting into my hands, that there is an opinion extensively 
 prevalent that all mankind will be saved. Those with 
 whose views I am best acquainted, generally believe that 
 there is no punishment after death. Sin, it is thought, in- 
 volves its own punishment. Consequently when mankind 
 cease to sin, as it is supposed they all will at death, there 
 will be an end to all their sufferings. This opinion ap- 
 pears to me strange, not because it is entirely new, but 
 because it is inconsistent with so many other things which 
 I have long considered as facts, and which so far as 1 
 know have been considered as facts by others. 
 
 The Jirst of these is the solicitude, which the apostles 
 manifested for the salvation of their bearers. They con- 
 versed and preached, and prayed, and laboured, as though 
 they were deeply concerned for the salvation of their fel- 
 low men. Paul in his epistle to the Romans, expresses 
 the anxiety which he felt for his brethren the Jews. " I 
 say the truth in Christ, I lie not, my conscience also bear- 
 ing me witness in the Holy Ghost, that I have great heavi- 
 ness and continual sorrow in my heart. For I could wish 
 myself accursed from Christ, for my brethren, my kinsmen 
 according to the flesh." In the first verse of the next chap- 
 ter, he gives us the reason why he was so anxious respect- 
 ing his brethren. " My heart's desire, and prayer to God 
 for Israel -is, that they might be saved" That the salva- 
 tion of his hearers was the object of Paul's exertions, as 
 well as prayers, is more than intimated in the following 
 passage. " I am made all things to all men. that I might 
 by alf means save some." Paul was anxious, not only so 
 to conduct himself as to secure the salvation of his fellow 
 creatures, but that all to whom th.e treasures of the gospel 
 were committed, should do the same. This is apparent 
 from the following address to Timothy, " Take heed unto 
 thyself and unto thy doctrine ; continue in them ; for in 
 doing this thou shall both save thyself and them that heasr 
 theel" Now upon the supposition, that Paul, and the rest 
 Of the apostles, knew that all would be saved, it appears
 
 to me strange, that they should manifest this solicitude 
 about it. It is not natural for mankind to be anxious that 
 an event should take place, when they know infallibly that 
 it cannot be prevented. We see no one anxious lest the 
 sun should not continue to rise and set, and the seasons 
 observe their appointed successions. And the only con- 
 ceivable reason is, all men are satisfied that the rising and 
 setting of the sun, and the rotation of the seasons will 
 continue as they have done. Now if Paul knew, and if it 
 is a truth he did unquestionably know it, that all men would 
 be saved, he could not have had any anxiety respecting the 
 salvation of his brethren or any one else, any more than 
 those who know the sun will rise to morrow, can be anx- 
 ious lest they be left in total darkness. Paul's anxiety re- 
 specting the salvation of his brethren and others, and the 
 great exertions which he made and endeavoured to influ- 
 ence others to make in order to save them, are strange and 
 unaccountable things, upon every other supposition, but 
 that of ins considering them in danger of perishing, and 
 his seriously fearing that many of them actually would 
 perish. 
 
 2. If the doctrine of universal salvation was taught by 
 the aposflej||it -appears to me strange, that their hearers 
 were so mvics-alai'mecf at their preaching. That the preach- 
 ing of the Apostles did excite great alarm and anxiety 
 among their hearers, is a fact with which few can be un- 
 acquahtted 0ri the day of pentecost three thousand were 
 pricKed at their heart upon the hearing of Peter's sermon: 
 and under the influence of their deep anxiety, they ex- 
 cla.med, " Men and brethren, what shall we do ?" It seems 
 to have^artfS conviction of his guilty, perishing condition, 
 produced by the doctrine of Paul, that influenced the jailer 
 to inquire, what he should do to be saved. When Paul 
 stood before Felix the Roman governor, and " reasoned of 
 righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, Felix 
 trembled." Now if the apostles believed the doctrine of 
 universal salvation, they were doubtless understood to 
 preach it. But it appears to me strange, that their hear- 
 ers, while hearing that all will be saved, or what evidently 
 implied this, should tremble, give signs of the deepest dis- 
 tress, and with tears entreat the apostles to inform them 
 what they must do to be saved. Their deep solicitude is 
 perfectly natural, upon the supposition that they were
 
 taught the reality of a future judgment, and the danger in 
 which they stood of perishing for ever, as a just punishment 
 for their sins. We can easily see that a firm belief in this 
 truth, and a lively apprehension of it, would produce the 
 very trembling and alarm, and inquiry, which were pro- 
 duced. But as the opinion under consideration is incon- 
 sistent with their having been taught any such thing, it 
 renders the fact of their deep anxiety wholly unaccounta- 
 ble. To get rid of the difficulty, we w.ill for the present 
 suppose, that they were needlessly alarmed, as many are 
 occasionally thought to be at the present day. 
 
 3. Admitting the fact that Christ and the apostles taught 
 the doctrine of universal salvation, it appears to me inex- 
 pressibly strange, that wicked men manifested so much 
 opposition to their preaohing. Christ and the apostles 
 doubtless preached the truth plainly and' faithfully. Of 
 course, if the doctrine of universal salvation is true, they 
 preached this doctrine, they were understood to preach 
 it, and they never preached any thing inconsistent with it. 
 Now what there is in this doctrine so repugnant to the 
 feelings of wicked men as to excite such opposition as 
 Christ and the apostles encountered from them, I never 
 could see. That the feelings of all men in an twisanctified 
 state are opposed to the doctrine of future and eternal 
 punishment, is a truth which every one knows from his 
 own experience, as well as from observation. On the sup- 
 position that Christ and his apostles preached this doctrine, 
 it would be perfectly easy to account for all the opposition 
 which was made against them. But why all the world, as 
 it were, should rise up against these holy men, and perse- 
 cute them even unto death, only for declaring the glad 
 tidings of the salvation of all men, is one of those unac- 
 countable things which I acknowledge myself unable to 
 explain. 
 
 4. Upon the supposition fhat all will be saved, there is 
 something peculiarly strange in the language, in which 
 Christ and the apostles speak of the future state of the 
 righteous and the wicked. With the idea in his mind, that 
 it was the design of Christ and the apostles to teach the 
 certain salvation of all men, let the reader consider for a 
 moment a few of their expressions, and see if there is not 
 something peculiarly strange in them. " Fear not rhem 
 which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul; but
 
 rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body 
 in hell." ,In Luke, " Fear him which after he hath killed, 
 hath power to cast into hell ; yea, I say unto you, fear him." 
 It is not a little surprising that Christ, who upon the prin- 
 ciple here assumed, wished to guard his hearers against 
 any apprehensions of a punishment beyond this life, should 
 here speak of God's being aMe to destroy the soul, as well 
 as the body ; to destroy the soul in hell, after he had killed 
 the body. 
 
 Besides, I cannot see the collusiveness of our Saviour's 
 reasoning in this place. What if God is able to destroy 
 the soul, as well as the body ? This is no good reason why 
 we should fear him, rather than any other being, if it is 
 known that he will not do it. What if God is able to de- 
 stroy the soul in hell? If it is known that there is no such 
 place of future punishment as hell, and if God is such a 
 being tha- he will not destroy the soul in hell I do not see 
 why the circumstance that he is able to do it, need to 
 frightrn us. I doubt not Christ did reason conclusively. 
 But in this case I cannot see the force of his argument, 
 unless he meant to teach the dreadful doctrine, that the 
 souls of the wicked will go to hell as a place of punish- 
 ment after the decease of their bodies. 
 
 " Enter ye in at the strait gate; for wide is the gate 
 and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many 
 there be which go in thereat: because strait is the gate, 
 and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few 
 there be that find it." Now as Christ believed in the 
 doctrine of universal salvation, I should suppose, that in- 
 stead of exhorting his hearers to enter in at the strait gate, 
 he would have told them that they icould enter in at the 
 strait gate ; that instead of using the alarming expression, 
 " Wide is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to 
 destruction ; and many there be which go in thereat," 
 lie would have told them honestly that there is no way to 
 destruction, and of course that none are going there ; that. 
 instead of saying, in the style of the illiberal partialist of 
 the present day, " strait is the gate and narrow is the way 
 which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it," he 
 would have adopted the more catholic language of another 
 class, and without hesitation declared, that the gate of 
 heaven is wide, that the way thither is broad, and that aU 
 will find it. 
 
 74
 
 " Marvel not at this, the hour cometh in which all that 
 are in their graves shall hear his voice and come forth 
 they that have done good to the resurrection of life, and 
 they that have done evil to the resurrection of damnation." 
 Should I hear a preacher at the present day use such an 
 expression as this, without any explanation, I should na- 
 turally conclude that he believed, not only in the future 
 resurrection of the bodies of all the dead, but of the sub- 
 sequent happiness of the righteous and misery of the 
 wicked. This, I cannot doubt, is the conclusion of ninety 
 nine in a hundred, the first time they hear the expression. 
 It is truly astonishing then, that Christ who is supposed 
 to have known that these doctrines are totally false, and 
 extremely pernicious, should have used such an expres- 
 sion. Not one in fifty of those who now preach universal 
 salvation, would, it is presumed, haye the imprudence to 
 drop this expression^ or any one similar to it, without at 
 the same time so explaining it, as to prepare his audience 
 to receive a meaning essentially different from the most 
 obvious sense of the words. 
 
 In his explanation of the parable of the tares and the 
 wheat, Christ says, " the field is the world ; the good seed 
 are the children of the kingdom ; but the tares are the 
 children of the wicked one ; the enemy that sowed them 
 is the devil ; the harvest is the end of the world ; and the 
 reapers are the angels. As therefore the tares are ga- 
 thered and burned in the fire ; so shall it be at the end of 
 the world. The Son of man shall send forth his angels, 
 and they shall gather out of his kingdom all things that 
 offend, and them which do iniquity. And shall cast them 
 into a furnace of fire ; there shall be wailing and gnash- 
 ing of teeth. Then shall the righteous shine forth as the 
 sun in the kingdom of their Father." When I consider 
 that this is an explanation of a parable which Christ had 
 previously spoken ; an attempt to make fliore plain to 
 them, what he had left in comparative qjbs.curity, I have 
 no words to express the astonishment which I feel at his 
 language. Instead of finding the doctrine of universal 
 salvation plainly and unequivocally taught, as we might 
 expect, if Christ believed it himself; from such a parable 
 as this, we find here a distinction made between the chil- 
 dren of the kingdom and the children of the wicked one, 
 an assertion that those who do iniquity, shall be gathered 
 
 74
 
 out of the kingdom of God, and cast into a lake of fire, 
 and an intimation that the righteous only shall shine forth 
 in the kingdom of their Father. How much more like a 
 Universalist would Christ have spoken, if he meant to 
 intimate that all would be saved ; how much more gene- 
 rally, as well as easily would he have been understood, if he 
 had been silent respecting a distinction between the chil- 
 dren of the kingdom and the children of the wicked one, 
 and called them all the children of God. And, instead of 
 dooming a part to a lake of fire, as is frequently done in 
 the pulpits of those now termed bigoted ecclesiastics, he 
 had said, not that the righteous shall shine forth as the sun 
 in the kingdom of their Father, but that all the human 
 race " shall shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their 
 Father." Christmas honest and sincere, plain and faithful 
 in his instructions. But hmo he could be so^nd use such 
 language as is found in the explanation of this parable, if 
 he believed that all would be saved, is certainly among the 
 mysteries which are not yet understood. 
 
 " When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all 
 the holy angelawith him, then shall he sit upon the throne 
 of his glory; and before him shall be gathered all nations; 
 and he shall separate them one from another as a shep- 
 herd divideth his sheep from the goats ; and he shall set 
 the sheep on his right hand and the goats on the left. Then 
 shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come ye 
 blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you 
 from the foundation of the world. Then shall he say also 
 unto them on the left hand, Depart, ye .cursed, into ever- 
 lasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels. And 
 these shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the 
 righteous into life eternal." Now if the opinion that there 
 is to be a day of judgment at which all the human race will 
 be summoned before Christ, the righteous separated from 
 the wicked, the one received to endless happiness, and the 
 other consigned to ceaseless perdition, be groundless, it is 
 to me peculiarly strange,t\izt Christ, who must have known 
 the falsehood of\his doctrine, 'should so plainly express it, 
 as he does when \\e speaks of all nations being gathered 
 before him, of his separating the righteous from the wick- 
 ed as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats, of his 
 inviting the one to the enjoyment of that kingdom pre- 
 pared for them by his Father, and of his bidding the other 1
 
 depart accursed into everlasting fire, prepared for the 
 devil and his angels. If he did not believe this doctrine, 
 it is certainly natural to suppose that he would have been 
 more cautious, than to use language which sd unequivo- 
 cally expresses it. That thousands of honest inquirers 
 after truth have understood him to assert this doctrine in 
 the passage before us, is what few, if any, will pretend to 
 deny ; and that he knew they would thus understand him 
 is as generally acknowledged. It appears to me strange, 
 therefore, that he had not used expressions that would 
 have clearly conveyed his meaning, and prevented the 
 numerous distressing fears, as well as hurtful errors which 
 his language has occasioned. Let my readers consider, 
 that Christ knew the truth upon this subject, that he was* 
 able to express it with the greatest plainness, that he had 
 no intention of frightening them by false exaggerated re- 
 presentations, but that his real object was to communicate 
 the most important practical information ; and then let 
 them tell me, how he came to use language which so much 
 resembles that of those who preach the gloomy doctrine 
 of future and everlasting punishment. 
 
 The conduct of the apostles, upon this subject, appears 
 to me equally strange with that of Christ. Considering- 
 them as Universalists, designing to teach that there will be 
 no punishment after this life, I am wholly unable to recon- 
 cile their expressions with truth and sincerity. Paul's 
 language to the Corinthians, upon the future condition of 
 mankind, exactly resembles the language of those who 
 preach in opposition to the Universalists, the doctrine of 
 future punishment. " We must all appear before the 
 judgment seat of Christ; that every man may receive the 
 things done in his body, according to that he hath done, 
 whether it be good or bad." If Paul believed that there 
 is no judgment after death, and no punishment only what 
 is suffered in this life, it is very difficult, to say the least, 
 to tell what he meant by our receiving at the judgment the 
 thiugs done in our bodies. Nor does there appear to be 
 any propriety in his intimating, as he appears to do in the 
 following passage,that mankind go to judgment after death. 
 " It is appointed unto men once to die, and after this the 
 judgment." A Universalist might, perhaps, in conse- 
 quence of finding such expressions in the Scriptures, make 
 Use of them in his public discourses. But if he were a
 
 8 
 
 man of prudence, he would carefully guard the minds of 
 his hearers against a misunderstanding of them by his own 
 exclanations. When, therefore, I find Paul freely using 
 such expressions, and accompanying them with no expla- 
 nations that seem in the least to detract from their most 
 obvious sense, I am compelled to conclude that he was a 
 very imprudent preacher, or, that he was no Universalist. 
 I have often heard serious and worthy ministers of the 
 gospel, unhappily tinctured, however, with the belief oi' 
 future and eternal punishment, censured for preaching too 
 much terror.' And there certainly has been*, at times, 
 some things in their awful denunciation against sinners, 
 which were enough to make the stoutest heart tremble. 
 But what has surprised me more than any thing else rela- 
 tive to this subject, is the fact that Paul, and others of the 
 apostles, use expressions upon this subject as strong, and 
 as full of terror, as any thing which ever dropped from 
 their lips. I never heard the most offensive of these 
 preachers say any thing which appeared to me more 
 unequivocally to assert the doctrine of future and eternal 
 punishment, more indicative of God's displeasure with the 
 wicked, or more calculated to frighten them ? than the 
 following language of Paul, " The Lord Jesus shall be 
 revealed from heaven, with his mighty angels in flaming 
 fire, taking vengeance on them that know not God, and 
 that,obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, who 
 shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the 
 presence of the Lord, and from the glory' of his* power." 
 One thing must be obvious to all, should a Universalist 
 preacher now make a free use of such expressions of the 
 apostles as that above quoted, without accompanying them 
 with his own interpretations, his hearers would conclude 
 that he had changed his sentiments. These remarks may 
 lead my readers to conclude that Paul was more careless, 
 or imprudent in his language than the rest of the apostles. 
 But I am far from thinking that this is a fact. Although 
 I dislike to charge him or any of his brethren with impru- 
 dence or insincerity; yet upon the supposition that they 
 believed in the salvation of all men, I say again, I cannot 
 reconcile flieir language with their sentiments, or with any 
 serious intention of communicating them. We will now 
 suppose thai John was a Universalist, and at the same 
 time, consider for a moment, the language which he uses
 
 9 
 
 in relating a vision which he had of future things. " I saw 
 a great white throne and him that sat on it, from whose 
 face the earth and the heavens fled away. And I saw the, 
 dead small and great stand before God ; and the books 
 were opened ; and another book was opened which was 
 the book of life ; and the dead were judged out of those 
 things which were written in the books according to their 
 works. And the sea gave up the dead which were in it, 
 and death and hell delivered up the dead which were hi 
 them, and they were judged every man According to their 
 works. And death and hell were cast into the lake of fire. 
 This is the second death. And whosoever was not found 
 written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire." 
 
 should hnve had just such a vision as this. And admit- 
 ting, as we must, that he did have it, it is unaccountable 
 that he should not have had the prudence to express him- 
 self a little differently, or to add some explanation to his 
 words, which would have satisfied every henest reader, 
 that he did not mean all which he seems to say. If he had 
 told us, expressly, that he did not mean by what he had 
 said respecting the dead small and great standing before 
 God, to intimate that any of the human race would pver be 
 raised from the dead ; that he did not design, by the books' 
 being opened and the dead's being judi ed out of the things 
 written in the books, to be understood that any would here- 
 after be called to an account for what they had done in this 
 life; and that by his declaration, "Whosoever was not 
 found written in tha book of life was cast into the lake of 
 lire," he had not the most distant thought of alarming any 
 one with the fear of future punishment,, although it would 
 then have been impossible, upon any fair principles of in- 
 terpretation, to ascertain what he did mean by his expres- 
 sions, yet he might have appeared honest and sincere, and 
 prudent. But to leave his expressions in the unguarded 
 form in which they now stand, looks like a species of im- 
 .prudence directly calculated to lead honest, sincere, and 
 even discerning minds into the gloomy belief of a day of 
 judgment and perdition of ungodly men ; a species of im- 
 prudence which we are sure would destroy the popularity, 
 and essentially injure the cause of any Universalist at the
 
 10 
 
 present day, and of which, none of this class, within my 
 knowledge, is ever guilty. 
 
 5. If there is no punishment after death, there appears 
 to me to be something strange in God's treatment of his 
 creatures in this world. Generally speaking, the right- 
 eous and the wicked are here treated essentially alike. 
 Although there are instances, in which God does, by his 
 providence, inflict signal punishments upon the wicked, 
 and confer signal rewards upon the righteous in this life ; 
 yet these instances being comparatively rare, must be con- 
 sidered among the extraordinary events of his providence. 
 God's general rule of dealing with his creatures in this life, 
 a rule from which he never departs, except in extraordinary 
 cases, and for special purposes, is expressed in the follow- 
 ing words : " He maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on 
 the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." 
 Solomon seems to have been convinced that a a general 
 rule, God treats the righteous and the wicked alike in this 
 world. " All , things," he says," come alike unto all ; there 
 is one event to the righteous, and to the wicked." In 
 another place, he says, " There is a vanity done upon the 
 earth ; that there be just men, unto whom it happeneth 
 according to the work of the wicked ; again there be 
 wicked men to whom it happeneth according to the work 
 of the righteous." Now if it is a fact, as is unequivocally 
 asserted in these words, that rewards and punishments 
 are not always distributed in this life according to the 
 deserts of men, it is strange to me, that there should not 
 be a future retribution. To my mind, there is no truth 
 more indisputable than this: the goodness of God must 
 lead him, sooner or later, to treat all his creatures accord- 
 ing to their characters. 
 
 Besides, upon the principle that all will be immediate- 
 ly happy after death, there is often something strange 
 even in those instances in which God makes a distinction 
 between the righteous and the wicked in this world. 
 Whenever the judgments of God upon the wicked are 
 such as to carry them out of the world, they must, for 
 ought I can see, become blessings, as in such cases, 
 they are always instrumental of removing the subjects oi 
 them from this world to heaven. Now the flood, which 
 has uniformly been considered as a judgment upon those 
 who perished in its waters, must upon the principle here
 
 11 
 
 assumed, be considered as a judgment upon Noah, and a 
 blessing to those who were destroyed ! Reader, look at 
 this subject one moment. Those who perished, all went 
 immediately to heaven, where they were made perfectly 
 happy in the enjoyment of God ; while Noah, after having 
 witnessed the agonies of a dying world, and enduring the 
 sorrows of this seemingly dreadful catastrophe for forty 
 days and forty nights, was left an afflicted, solitary indi- 
 vidual, with no society, but his own family, and no pos- 
 session but the ruins of his ark. To this solitary pilgrim- 
 age he was driven, for no other reason than for being a 
 good man, while the true cause of his companions all being 
 received so soon to heaven was, they had corrupted their 
 way before the Lord ! A similar reason must be assigned 
 why Lot, deprived of his wife, and dispossessed of his in- 
 heritance, was obliged to linger out a pitiable existence in 
 the little city Zoar, while the inhabitants ot Sodom and 
 Gomorrah, after one momentary pang, from the devouring 
 element in which they were enveloped, were all received 
 to the mansions of bliss ; and why Moses was required to 
 endure the labour-, and hardships, and self denial of a 
 journey through the wilderness, and to hear, for the space 
 of forty years, the murmurs and reproaches of a rebellious 
 people; while Pharaoh and his hosts, who maliciously 
 pursued him, all safely entered the rest prepared for the 
 people of God, the moment they were overwhelmed in the 
 Red sea. This is the strange attitude in which the opinion 
 under consideration presents all the judgments of God 
 which have ever swept the wicked from the earth. So far 
 from having been evils to them who suffered them, they 
 appear to have been blessings ! 
 
 On the whole, I cannot but think it strange, that a doc- 
 trine, attended with so many strange things, should be 
 thought to be true. There must be something strange in 
 the structure of that mind, or in the feelings of which it 
 is the subject, which can believe this doctrine, in the face 
 of so much plain testimony, and in opposition to so many 
 well known facts. The mind which can believe this doc- 
 trine in opposition to the scriptural facts, and scriptural 
 testimony which present themselves against it, cannot be 
 prevented by Scripture, from believing any thing which 
 it wishes to be true. Do you ask, reader, what is the rea- 
 son, why so many readily receive the false and absurd
 
 12 
 
 doctrine which has now been considered. In the Follow- 
 ing scripture, you have an answer, " Having the under- 
 standing darkened, being alienated from the life of God 
 through the ignorance that is in them, because of the 
 blindness of their heart." 
 
 Behold ! with awful pomp, 
 
 The Judge prepares to come, 
 Th' archangel sounds the dreadful trump 
 
 And wakes the gen'ral doom. 
 Nature, in wild amaze, 
 
 Her dissolution mourns, 
 Blushes of blood the moon deface, 
 
 The sun to darkness turns. 
 The living look with dread ; 
 
 The frighted dead arise : 
 Start from the monumental bed, 
 
 'And lift their ghastly eyes. 
 Horrors all hearts appal, 
 
 They quake : they shriek ; they cry ; 
 Bid rocks and mountain-; on them fall ; 
 
 But rocks and mountains fly 
 Ye wilful, wanton fools, 
 
 Let dangers make you" wise : 
 Carnal professors, careless souls, 
 
 Unclose your sleeping eyes. 
 'Tie time we all awake ; ' 
 
 The dreadful day draws near ; 
 Sinners your proud presumption check, 
 
 And stop your, wild career 
 Now is th' accepted time, 
 
 To * hrist for mercy fly; 
 O turn, repent, and trust in him ; 
 
 And you shall never die. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY N. BANGS AND J. EMORT, 
 
 for the Tract Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, at the ConfersnW 
 Office, 14 Crosby-street, New- York., 
 
 AlW ffoyt. Pi-intfr.
 
 NO. 75. 
 
 PROCRASTINATION ; 
 
 OR AN ECHO FROM THE VOICE OF THE DYING. 
 
 BT A LADY. 
 
 PROCRASTINATION ! ah its fatal power, 
 Steals time away by minutes, days, and hours. ' 
 Wait till to morrow is the syren's song ; 
 Time rolls along, but no to morrow comes, 
 To day is gone, and resolutions fair, 
 Renew'd each day, lead souls to sad despair. 
 The light of hope, Procrastination bears, 
 Extinguished leaves them in darker shades of wo. 
 
 Human beings are endowed with rational powers ca- 
 pable of judging and acting upon true arid salutary prin- 
 ciples. Furnished with the awful power of free agency; 
 mortals who live but a few days on earth, within that short 
 space, fix their future destinies on eternal happiness or 
 everlasting misery. Yet alas ! men and women thus no- 
 bly exalted by their divine Creator believing these impor- 
 tant truths, trifle away their short season of probation in 
 the pursuit of earthly toys, while the salvation of their 
 souls is neglected. Satisfied with living like others with 
 whom they associate, they hasten across the stage of life, 
 without acting the part assigned them. Death draws the 
 curtain, and they are engulfed in remediless torments, 
 to bewail their folly through the countless ages of eternity, 
 without the least hope of ever escaping. No prospect of 
 annihilation visits that dreary region. , Ah ! no ; the days 
 of mercy are past, and justice demands that the wrath of 
 an angry God should be poured upon such as have reject- 
 ed his unexampled love and refused to be saved by his fret- 
 grace. Is this because God delights in the misery of his 
 creatures 1 No ; let us look at the exertions he has made 
 to procure salvation for every individual of the human race, 
 and we shall be satisfied that if any perish it will be their 
 own fault, and, convinced of the justice and mercy of God, 
 we shall say with the poet, 
 
 <' Oh ! unexampled love, oh ! all redeeming" grace, 
 How swiftly didst thou more to save a fallen race, 
 What shall I do to mke it known, 
 What thou for all mankind hast done !" 
 1
 
 The God who gave us an existence sent his only beloved 
 Son from heaven to earth to ope'n a straight narrow way, 
 in which we all may go from earth to heaven, who are 
 willing to follow his footsteps, receive his mercy, and obey 
 his directions. 
 
 In order to remove every difficulty, Jesus the king of 
 glory condescended to be clothed in humanity, and wan- 
 dered on his lower dominions in voluntary poverty and 
 pain, leading with patience the reproaches and insults of 
 his rebellious subjects. 
 
 He even conflicted with devils that he might conquer 
 our foes; and having wrought out salvation for us by his 
 holy life and ignominious death, he went into the grave 
 that he might conquer death, and finally deliver us from 
 his dreaded sting. Actuated by the same philanthropic 
 spirit he ascended to heaven, and there pleads our cause, 
 and whenever we repent and believe on him he is ready 
 to forgive us all our sins. The Holy Spirit likewise comes 
 to our hearts and pleads for permission to bring salvation 
 to us : the Scriptures are given as a heavenly directory, 
 and ministers of the gospel are commissioned of God and 
 sent to explain its sacked truths which teach us the right 
 way to heaven ; yet many shut their eyes, close their ears, 
 and harden their hearts, and refuse to be saved in this 
 easy way, while they follow those who have gone to hell 
 with hasty steps as if impatient to be their companions. 
 
 When contemplating on the riches of free grace I have 
 been astonished and grieved to see what multitudes by the 
 power of their own agency pull down eternal curses upon 
 their souls. I have strove to inquire into the causes of 
 their ruin. Men do not love misery, though they seek it 
 in the error of their ways. Happiness is the pursuit of all ; 
 and almost every individual will acknowledge that religion, 
 or the renewing influence of divine grace received in this 
 life, is the only qualification for happiness after death ; and 
 they intend to possess this in some future period ; but 
 sensual pleasures are the present objects of their attention. 
 The deceitful foe, "procrastination," has nothing formida- 
 ble or inimical in its appearance, but like a deceitful syren 
 it lures many to the brink of destruction, from which a 
 retreat is made with difficulty ; and not unfrequently death 
 seizes its votaries and hurries them like unhappy captives 
 to the prison from whence there is no escape. Sometimes
 
 deprived of reason, they are incapable of making their 
 peace with God. This was the case with a young lady of 
 my acquaintance. 
 
 When she first came into the neighbourhood where I 
 lived, a friend introduced her to me in the character of an 
 awakened sinner, and requested me to take an interest in 
 her spiritual welfare. I frequently conversed with her on 
 the subject of salvation, the means of grace by which it 
 might be obtained, and she received it as a mark of friend- 
 ship, requested an interest in the prayers of Christians, and 
 esteemed it a great privilege to enjoy their society. She 
 often wept over her wretched state, but did not fly to Jesus 
 for help. Though in her deportment she manifested the 
 sobriety of a Christian, she evidently procrastinated the 
 exercises of repentance and faith, and did not acquiesce 
 in the plan of salvation. The Holy Spirit was grieved, and 
 she gradually became more indifferent to the important 
 concerns of eternity. 
 
 The following season she returned to her native place, 
 several miles distant, and I saw her no more. Soon after 
 she died ; I was informed by her sister that in the com- 
 mencement of the fever she was deranged, and continued 
 in that state until the lamp of life was extinguished, ex- 
 cept one short interval, when she appeared rational and 
 sensible of her situation, but greatly distressed in view of 
 a future state. She said, " I believe I shall die, and if I 
 do, what will become of my poor soul?" But little was 
 said to her on the subject of a preparation for death, fear- 
 ing the effect on her mental powers. No doubt her dis- 
 tress of mind assisted the disease in driving reason from 
 its throne. Not the least indication was given, that a ray 
 of hope visited her soul, and I did not,learn, that any of 
 her acquaintance indulged a hope, that she was prepared 
 for heaven. The first thoughts that arose in my mind 
 were distressing : procrastination has proved her ruin ! 
 But have I done my duty in warning her to flee the wrath 
 to come? I thank God, that his Spirk taught me to shun 
 this foe, in the performance of my duty to her, and this 
 consideration shall induce me to be faithful in warning 
 others. Oh that I had kept this resolution. 
 
 Through the abundant mercy and long suffering of God 
 some who have put off this great work of making their 
 peace with him, have been brought on their dying beds to
 
 prove the eflicacy of free grace, in snatching (hem from 
 everlasting ruin. But what has been their language 1 Will 
 you regard their testimonies ? I shall quote some extracts 
 from two of these evidences whose pathetic addresses to 
 me when they were tormented with mental agonies, have 
 made a deep impression on my mind, and given rise to the 
 foregoing reflections. I feel it an imperious duty to obey 
 the charges given me, with their dying lips, and while their 
 bodies are mouldering in the dust, to give an echo to their 
 dying admonitions, praying that the reader may hear, take 
 the warning, and flee immediately to Christ for refuge. 
 
 As an echo is fainter and not so distinct as the original 
 sound, so my pen can never describe the emotions, with 
 which their language was expressed ; I shall, therefore, 
 give only a brief description of their character, and select 
 but a few sentences out of the abundance which they utter- 
 ed ; but sufficient to pourtray the feelings of a soul who 
 had tried the path you are pursuing. Receive their friendly 
 advice, and if their evidence is not sufficient, I refer you 
 to the testimonies of those of your acquaintance who have 
 put off religion until death approached. I would fain re- 
 call your feelings when your hearts were melted with their 
 dying admonitions ; I would bring to your mind the pious 
 resolutions you then formed, and on them I would write, 
 "Procrastination" for these have been like the early cloud 
 and morning dew. 
 
 A young woman who had been educated by a widowed 
 mother, in an unusually plain style, and taught from her 
 infancy that the great object of life was to prepare for eter- 
 nity ; when about nineteen years of age, was by a gradual 
 decline, in about seven months, reduced from the appear- 
 ance of health to a lifeless skeleton. From her infancy 
 she was greatly affected and terrified whenever there was 
 a thunder shower, and I have no doubt at these seasons 
 she formed many good resolutions. Being naturally re- 
 served and bashful, her feelings and views on the subject 
 of religion, were not known to her friends previous to her 
 sickness. When first taken ill, she concluded her com- 
 plaint was a family consumption, and she must soon follow 
 a sister who a few years before, had gone down to the 
 silent grave, and appeared alarmed in view of her future 
 prospects. Her distress of soul increased more rapidly 
 than her disease ; she sent a request to the members oi'
 
 the Methodist society to hold a prayer meeting in her 
 chamber : several of us attended and were deeply affected 
 in witnessing the change in her appearance. 
 
 The thoughts of eternity seemed wholly to occupy her 
 attention, and so overcome the fear of man, that she spoke 
 with boldness, publicly requested Christians to pray for 
 her, lamenting her miserable state, and warning the uncon- 
 verted to flee immediately to Christ for refuge. She con- 
 tinued for several weeks in a similar state; when thafc 
 same enemy who had told her there was time enough to" 
 prepare for death, suggested that it was too late, and hav- 
 ing delayed a preparation until a sick bed, God would now 
 refuse to hear her prayers; and believing there was no 
 hope in her case she resigned herself to despair, and be- 
 sought her friends to say nothing to her respecting a future 
 . state, saying, " It only distresses me, and will do no good ; 
 all the comfort I shall ever have will be the few days I 
 have on earth. I must spend a long eternity in indescri- 
 bable misery." She even refused to hear the Scriptures 
 read, and would fly from the room, or snatch the book from 
 the reader, and in the most lamentable tone, beg of them 
 not to torment her. Some Christians visited her, but it 
 was evident that nothing but the respect which good man- 
 ners demanded induced her to hear them converse or pray. 
 Several of different denominations touched with Christian 
 sympathy, continued to plead with God in her behalf. My 
 soul was frequently in an agony, while praying for her ; I 
 visited her several times, but the most solemn and interest- 
 ing seasons were about three weeks after she had ceased to 
 ask for mercy, and resigned herself to sudden despair. One 
 Saturday I called on her, as I was passing to visit some 
 friends ; when I went in she appeared glad to see me, 1 
 asked how her health was, &>c. She replied with a kind of 
 apathy. I then observed, that as her disease was evidently 
 increasing I wished to know the state of her mind. She 
 immediately raised herself in bed, turned her head from me, 
 as though determined not to hear, she called to her attend- 
 ant for some food; it was given her; she manifested an ea- 
 gerness and an agitation like a person flying from danger, 
 which struck us with horror. I again asked her what 
 were her views of a future state, she turned her face from 
 me and refused to answer, after making a few remarks on 
 the importance of improving the few moments she had left,
 
 iu preparing for eternity, and of the abundant mercy of 
 God. She exclaimed, "Oh do not say a word to me, do 
 not aggravate my misery." With a pained heart I left the 
 room. Her mother and sister followed me and begged 
 that I would call as I returned, and insisted that I should 
 continue in my endeavours, to persuade her to seek salva- 
 tion. Accordingly I went to see her again in the evening 
 and was informed that she had been very uneasy during 
 my absence, on account of my leaving her so abruptly. 
 Being told it was because I was grieved with her conduct, 
 she promised to converse on the subject proposed, if I 
 would come in when I returned. Accordingly I spoke to 
 tier in the mildest manner possible of the goodness of God., 
 which had left her a little season longer to prepare for 
 death ; suddenly she arose from her pillow, and fixing her 
 eyes upon me with all the agonies of despair depicted in her 
 countenance, said, " Why did you not tell me of these things 
 two years ago? You saw my danger ; I did not; and had 
 you then begged of me to receive salvation as you do now, 
 it might have done some good ; but now it is too late. Oh I 
 why did you not warn me before ? Now it only aggravates 
 my misery. You do not know how it distresses me only 
 to think of the subject." I was dumb, but my aunt replied, . 
 tl Do you recollect at a certain meeting how she warned 
 all the young people to improve their present probation in 
 preparing for death ?" " Oh yes," said she, " but then I 
 had no ear to hear it," and fell back upon her bed apparent- 
 ly exhausted and agitated with agonies of mental pain. My 
 aunt took the Bible to read to her ; she rose up and at- 
 tempted to seize the book, but was not able to reach it. 
 We entreated her to hear the promises of the gospel, and 
 ask God for mercy ; but we could not persuade her to say 
 as much as "Lord have mercy." She said," Do you sup- 
 pose it will do any good : no, it will increase my misery." 
 Her piteous waitings were enough to rend the hardest heart. 
 She reluctantly consented to have prayers, saying, " It will 
 do me no good." While we attempted to pray her agonies 
 were indescribable. The next day I went again to see her 
 and found her in a similar state of mind, and endeavoured 
 all in my power to persuade her to pray for herself, but 
 all in vain. The sabbath following I spent with an inti- 
 mate friend of hers, who had for years enjoyed religion ; and 
 now viewing death near, was happy its sting was destroy- 
 
 73
 
 Qd. She had requested the brethren to come after the public 
 service and pray with her : and after much entreaty her poor 
 desponding companion was persuaded to ride about a half 
 mile to take, as she supposed, her last farewell of her 
 friend. Affecting was the interview : the contrast in their 
 appearance and feelings cannot be described. Both lying 
 upon one bed expecting in a short time to go into eternity ; 
 one with a calm serenity of soul waiting the approach of 
 the welcome messenger ; the other with horror wishing to 
 fly from the dreaded tyrant, but no prospect of escape ; 
 while the former was entreating her in the most affection- 
 ate language, to come to lier Saviour, whose love and 
 mercy would receive her even in the last extremity. The 
 poor distressed creature was melted into tenderness. She 
 lay and wept while several prayers were made, springing up 
 suddenly she cried aloud, " Lord iiave mercy ! Have mercy 
 on me a poor distressed sinner !" Acknowledging the* 
 justice of God, she said, " I will continue to pray till my 
 latest moment ! perhaps he will show mercy to me." Oh I 
 how earnestly did she request us to pray for her. She was 
 so exhausted that it was with difficulty she returned home, 
 and I believe never rode out after this, but she continued 
 earnestly seeking pardon for sin, and wanted her 
 friends to read the Scriptures to her. A few mornings 
 after she was heard singing, which excited the surprise of 
 the family ; on going into her room, they found her rejoicing, 
 and horrid despair had yielded to an humble confidence 
 in Gfod, which produced a calm serenity of mind. From 
 that time her countenance as well as actions expressed tho 
 change, though she said but little, and never professed to 
 have a clear evidence of her acceptance with God ; yet 
 viewing his goodness and long forbearance, she felt a peace 
 in casting herself upon his mercy. Her strength gradually 
 decayed, and about two months after, her spirit went to 
 meet her Judge. 
 
 After her death a paper that she had written in her sick- 
 ness was handed to me, from which I shall select a few 
 paragraphs. "Oh ! the vanity of human life. Oh ! what 
 is time compared to eternity, or vain man to the majesty 
 of God ! When we hear the mighty thunders roaring, H 
 shows us the terribleness of God who is able to crash us 
 in a moment. The awful hour is coming, even the hour 
 of death will come upon us; and yet, how poor mortals 
 73
 
 8 
 
 hasten to sin out their day of life. Oh ! remember/ all 
 ye youth that your bodies must be brought down to the 
 dust, and your souls pass the dark valley of death, never 
 to return to earth again. Let us consider that we are 
 acting for a never ending eternity, put far away vanity and 
 pride. Oh ! reflect. Is not the Lord angry with us when 
 we are pursuing the fashions of the world, drawing, twist- 
 ing and trying one way and another to see what will suit 
 our vanity best ? It will not save our souls from bitterness. 
 While we are studying to please the world, we are not 
 seeking to please God. Which is the most necessary ? 
 Let our < wn souls be the judges. Why did I not say, 
 come, let us live for eternity ? for there is nothing here 
 that can satisfy us or feast our souls without the love of 
 God. Principalities, powers, yea, all the world is nothing, 
 the soul is all ; if we lose it we lose all. Oh ! the folly 
 of my past life. Oh ! the stubborness of my will. Why- 
 did I not stir about my Master's business 1 Then would 
 it have been well with me. Oh Lord ! I do lament my 
 past folly. I am afflicted because I have rebelled against 
 thee ; but I beseech thee to blot out my iniquities ; shut 
 not the door of mercy for ever against me, but may I be 
 brought to view the clear light of the gospel, and my heart 
 be made clean, this side the grave. Help, Lord, or I 
 perish. Jesus saith, ' Come unto me, all ye that are weary 
 and heavy laden ;' oh ! that I may come aright. Nothing 
 short of the love of God can redeem my soul. Lei me 
 never give over seeking it nor suffer mvself to rest until I 
 rest in the Lord Jesus Christ ; then may I grow in grace 
 till I reach thy holy hill. The earth mourneth and fadeth 
 away, and the haughty of the earth must perish. Dear 
 youth, cry to the Lord for mercy. What will it avail you 
 to sell your souls for you know not what ? Arise, take up 
 your cross and follow the leadings of the Holy Spirit. I 
 beseech you not to put off this work of repentance ; for 
 the longer you neglect it, the harder it will seem to hum- 
 ble yourselves before the Lord and seek the salvation of 
 your souls. Sinner, what do you mean, who trust in 
 vanity and speak lies, watching where you can deceive an- 
 other with your guile, and spend your whole time in study- 
 ing vanity and deceit? Oh turn, why will ye die? Oh ! 
 give place for the Holy Spirit to purify your hearts ; then 
 you will have begun a good work. Let us strive to possess 
 
 75
 
 a lamblike spirit. Let us become like little children, for* 
 giving one another and striving to live in peace. Why 
 will we not lay up a treasure in heaven, and strive to seek 
 a city out of sight and not have our affections set on things 
 below,; for this earth is not our home." The whola tenor 
 of her language and deportment was expressive of similar 
 views and feelings, though it was expressed in broken, 
 scattered fragments. 
 
 The other was the daughter of my class leader. She 
 had from her infancy been dedicated to the Lord, and 
 instructed in the principles of true religion, believed its 
 reality, and would converse sensibly on the subject. I 
 have seen her apparently awakened, but she soon closed 
 her eyes against the light, and pursued youthful vanities. 
 She was naturally ingenuous, active, and agreeable ; and 
 having the advantages of a good education, her mental 
 improvements were considerably above the mediocrity. 
 When told that there was no happiness to be derived from 
 worldly pleasures, she would say, "I am sure I do take 
 much satisfaction, but I know religion is necessary, and I 
 intend to seek and obtain it when I am old enough to keep 
 it." She would frequently refer to some person who had 
 once been serious and became indifferent again, or some 
 professors of religion, who did not live exemplary, and say, 
 " When I get religion, I will not run after the vanities of 
 the world, t will strive to be a good Christian ; is it any 
 better to do as they have done, th.in to make no preten- 
 sions to religion ?" Influenced by these feelings, and a 
 fondness for dress, company, and youthful pleasures, she 
 continued to procrastinate the day of repentance. 
 
 When a little past sixteen, she began to teach a school ; 
 being well qualified and highly pleased with her employ- 
 ment, she succeeded in gaining the affection of her pupils, 
 and the highest approbation of her employers. The next 
 season she entered in the same district, elated with all the 
 vigour and ambition of youth ; but in the bloom of life, this 
 promising flower was blasted by the cold winds of disease. 
 A few months previous to her illness, some friends who 
 felt a solicitude for her spiritual welfare, strove to convince 
 her of the unsatisfying and transitory nature of earthly 
 enjoyments ; but she invariably manifested a disbelief of 
 those truths, considering her own experience a refutation 
 of them, for now she had every thing exactly according to 
 75
 
 10 
 
 her desires. Her clothes were prepared as she wished for 
 the summer. Hei employment in the place she chose, and 
 at such a distance from home, that she would be beyond 
 parental restraint ; and to complete her happiness, she 
 expected to have the society of a companion with 'whom 
 she had for many years enjoyed the most intimate friend- 
 ship. She had stored her mind with useful knowledge, 
 imbibed virtuous principles, and by her agreeable deport- 
 ment and propriety of conduct, gained the affection and 
 esteem of her acquaintance ; and now relied on these 
 accomplishments to direct her future conduct. 
 
 They succeeded in their calculations and all their pros- 
 pects were favourable, though as they afterwards acknow- 
 ledged, aft .reboding of evil sometimes disturbed anticipated 
 delight. Her health soon began to fail, and too close an 
 application in school, with a neglect of temperate and pru- 
 dent care of her health, produced an ulceration of the lungs. 
 Overcome by disease she began to feel an uneasiness re- 
 specting her future state ; knowing her unpreparedness for 
 death, but was reluctant in conversing upon this subject. 
 Though convinced of the uncertainty of earthly prospects, 
 she appeared unwilling to give them up, still indulging the 
 hope that she would be restored to health, and have a bet- 
 ter time to attend to religion ; at the same time manifested 
 a determination to repent of sin and seek an interest in 
 Christ when she recovered ; but was apprehensive a sick 
 bed repentance would not be genuine or lasting. She was 
 confined in a pious family, who did all in their power for 
 her, and added their counsel and prayers : and many of her 
 acquaintance were engaged in earnest prayer for the con- 
 version of her soul. As soon as she was able to ride home, 
 her kind parents conveyed her thither. Soon after a prayer 
 meeting previously appointed, was attended at her father's. 
 Every Christian present seemed engaged in fervent sup- 
 plication and earnest intercessions, that God would awaken 
 and convert her soul and prepare her for the designs and 
 dispensations of Providence either in life or death. Faith 
 claimed the promise that God would answer the united 
 prayers of his children. She afterwards greatly lamented 
 that the hope of a longer space induced her to procrastinate 
 an earnest striving in the pursuit of salvation, and that she 
 did not request Christians to pray for her as she felt it her 
 duty. A few weeks after she discharged a quantity of blood
 
 11 
 
 from the lungs, which alarmed both herself and her attend- 
 ants and banistied the hopes of a recovery. Being con- 
 vinced of the necessity of standing in continual readiness, 
 to go at his summons, she earnestly cried, " Lord have 
 mercy on me, and prepare me for death." Her father 
 said, " My child, if you had religion I could give you up." 
 She replied, " I must have religion, and I must have it now, 
 I cannot die without it." A physician was immediately 
 called. It was ibund necessary to calm the emotions of 
 her mind as far as possible, to prevent immediate danger. 
 Her father said, " If you should live until morning, I hope 
 you will'use what strength you have in seeking the Lord." 
 " Oh," said she, " I must not wait till morning, what if I 
 should die before morning, what would become of my poor 
 soul ?" So earnest was she now to obtain an interest in 
 Christ, that she could hardly be persuaded to cease in her 
 earnest cries for mercy, fearing to go to sleep lest she 
 should awake in hell. 
 
 Reader, pause a moment and consider, what must be 
 the painful feelings of a soul viewing itself thus exposed 
 to eternal misery, and do not procrastinate a preparation 
 for eternity. From this time she sought in earnest for 
 salvation, through the merits of Christ, renouncing worldly 
 entanglements and asked the prayers of Christians. The 
 Bible was her constant companion, and she read and prayed 
 as much as her strength would admit, and every night 
 appeared unwilling to go to sleep, without an evidence that 
 her sins were pardoned ; often saying, " I, feel as if I ought 
 not to shut my eyes to sjeep until 1 obtain religion ; I think 
 it is likely I may not live till morning; and oh my poor 
 soul, what will become of my poor soul ?" One observing 
 that she ought to be much engaged in prayer, with tears 
 she replied, " I am trying to pray almost all of the time." 
 The exercises of her mind were such for one week, thai 
 she took but little notice of any thing, that was not connect- 
 ed with her soul's salvation, often saying, " I do repent, 
 oh that I could believe." Though she drank deep of the 
 bitter cup of repentance, it was not mixed with despair, 
 for she believed God would have mercy and save her soul. 
 One evening I called with some friends; we found her 
 weeping' and with sobs of grief, she said, " Do pray Ibr 
 me, I cannot close my eyes to sleep until I obtain pardon 
 for sin." Soon after, her father came in and inquired, 
 
 75
 
 12 
 
 how she had felt through the day. She replied, " no 
 better." He said, " But you believe that God will have 
 mercy." " Oh yes, lather, what should I do if I did not 
 believe ? I could not live." She devoutly joined in our 
 earnest prayers until her feeble body was so fatigued as to 
 be unable to bear any farther exencise. I staid to watch 
 with her, and while striving to persuade her to take some 
 rest, she said to me, " Oh if people in health knew how 
 hard it is to obtain religion on a sick bed, they would not 
 put it oft'. I believe Christians do wrong in telling how easy 
 it is to get religion, because people will think if it is so 
 easy they can obtain it at any time. Oh I find it very 
 hard, I try to believe, I pray, I struggle, till my strength 
 is exhausted and find no comfort. Oh if I had strength, I 
 would not sleep until I had found my Saviour." 
 
 A few days after, while striving to exercise faith on that 
 passage, " Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy 
 laden and I will give you rest," Christ revealed his love 
 and mercy, and a calm peace succeeded ; but the direct 
 witness of justification was not then given. She acknow- 
 ledged the change in her feelings, but was not satisfied, 
 and continued to pray and agonize for the witness of the 
 Spirit. She observed to a friend that she felt it to be 
 her duty to warn others not to put off religion, as she had 
 done, thinking it was not proper for one who had not the 
 evidence of being a Christian : on receiving some encou- 
 ragement, she said, '' If I am not a Christian, I may warn 
 others from the feelings I have of the evil of sin and its 
 dreadful consequences." Soon after, some of her young 
 companions called to see her ; she felt as before, and began 
 to tell them that her great anxiety was not so much to 
 recover, as to be prepared for death, and affectionately 
 warned those present while in health not to neglect their 
 souls' salvation as she had done. They were all melted 
 into tears, and the ardour of her soul seemed to communi- 
 cate strength to her body, so that she continued to exhort 
 them some time ; a ray of divine light broke into her soul, 
 and she declared that at that moment she had received 
 the witness that she was reconciled to God through the 
 merits of Christ. From that time she improved many 
 opportunities in warning her young companions to prepare 
 for death. One sabbath, four or five of them called to see 
 her. She just spoke to themj but being feeble closed her 
 
 75
 
 eyes; after lying awhile composed, she said, My prospects 
 are very different from what they were last spring. They 
 were then as promising as yours are now." With a full 
 heart, she added, " I shall now die and be forgotten as 
 others have been who died years ago ; oh eternity ! eter- 
 nity ! Girls prepare to meet me in heaven ; seek religion 
 now ; you may fancy that you shall die with some linger- 
 ing disease, but do not put off a preparation for death. 
 A sick bed is a poor place for repentance." She was 
 asked v/hat she wished to have prepared for grave clothes. 
 She replied, ''Get nothing new." Being told some new 
 things woidd be necessary, she manifested a desire that 
 her friends would do as they thought proper ; saying, 
 " The body will soon turn to corruption. It is of so much 
 less importance than the soul, that it is hardly worth a 
 thought," and spake with regret of the precious time she 
 had spent in adorning the body. After she was struck 
 with death, she requested brother. W. to preach her fune- 
 ral sermon, adding, "tell the young people from me, not to 
 put off religion, as I have done : for a sick bed is a poor 
 place to prepare for death." After lying a few moments, 
 she said, " But, glory be to God, it is better than no 
 place." 
 
 Reader, I beseech you not to take liberty from the mercy 
 of God to these poor souls to persist in sin, and be not so 
 presumptuous as to make the goodness of God a plea 
 for your rebellion against him. 
 
 ANNA. 
 
 UNHAPPY DEATH OF MRS. II. A. 
 
 AUTHENTIC. 
 
 MRS. H. A. was the wife of a respectable merchant iu 
 Cheshire, N. II. Her husband was awakened to a sense 
 of his lost estate, and began seeking peace with God, by 
 prayer, &c. Against this her lofty spirit rose with vio- 
 lence. Now and then she would attend meeting with him, 
 and generally would feel the strivings of the Spirit for some 
 time afterwards ; but the awful thought of being "reproaclt-
 
 14 
 
 dfor Christ's sake," determined her to pursue her for- 
 mer course. But she was not long permitted to regale 
 herself in worldly sweets, and bask in the beams of pros- 
 perity, for a fatal consumption, like a greedy vulture, had 
 seized upon her vitals. 
 
 On the 1st July, 1807, 1 moved into the neighbourhood 
 saw her rapidly declining, and felt great solicitude for 
 the salvation of her soul. She was insensible of her dan- 
 ger, but thought she should soon recover. This, perhaps, 
 \vas one cause why she did not like to say any thing about 
 religion. I thought if I could but converse with her 
 alone, she would indulge more freedom. She was in the 
 habit of riding, when the morning was pleasant, and she 
 accepted my offer to attend her in her carriage. She 
 moved slowly I wished her to lay aside restraint, and 
 inform me what her views were in regard to religion tho 
 state of her soul, and the nature of her disease. She did 
 so told me she considered religion of great value had 
 often seen and felt the need of it, and still at times 
 felt the Spirit striving with her ; but she did not think he} 1 
 complaint alarming : that if she thought she should not 
 recover, she should want religion above every thing else. 
 I felt some hope, that even at the eleventh hour, she might 
 be accepted of God. But the last time I rode with her, 
 I found her mind more on the world, and less inclined to 
 talk upon the concerns of eternity. 
 
 How astonishing the fact ! that the god of this world, 
 not only " blinds the minds of them that believe not" but 
 deludes them with prospects of long life, even to the gates 
 of death ! 
 
 At the dawn of day, September 2, I was called to go 
 and pray with her. I hasted to her bed side, and asked 
 what I should pray for? She replied, " I must die soon, 
 and I want you to pray that I may go to heaven." Ah ! 
 thought I, how can I pray for this, while I cannot believe 
 that she has any fitness for the place. I prayed the Lord 
 to show her her situation, aud even at the close of life 
 appear for her salvation ; but the heavens seemed shut, 
 and prayer unavailing. I sat down by her bed side to 
 witness the attack of the king of terrors, who now appear- 
 ed rushing, with relentless fury, upon his agonizing victim. 
 The room by this time was nearly filled with family con- 
 nexions, (most .of whom were enemies of the cross of 
 
 75
 
 15 
 
 Christ,) who had -come in to witness the solemnities of the 
 parting scene. She lay with her eyes alternately raised 
 towards heaven, her lips moving, and an expressive excite- 
 ment in her countenance, which drew the eyes of all upon 
 her. Perceiving her to be praying, I put my ear to her 
 lips to ascertain her whispers, but in vain. Her physician 
 was critically noticing the state of her pulse all seemed 
 eager that life should be Continued, that they might know 
 the effects of her prayers hope seemed to beam in each 
 countenance, as well as in my heart, when suddenly she 
 opened her eyes, and spoke with an audible voice " The 
 manifestation is come, and it is plainly shown to me that 
 I am a going to HELL ! HEL?, ! HELL !" Who can des- 
 cribe the consternation that seized the spectators ! After 
 pausing a moment she said " I have been praying thr 
 Lord to show me what my state will be after death, and 
 he has, and I must go to hell !" Her father in law (per- 
 haps a deist, who at other times could sport with prayers, 
 especially women's praying) came to her bed side, and 
 sought to compose her mind ; and entreated her to lay her 
 hand on her breast and say, God, be merciful, and all 
 would be well. " Ah! father," said she, "once I might 
 have obtained mercy the Lord called me, and I thought 
 I would serve him I tried to ; but my heart was so 
 PROUD I was so wicked the Lord would not regard me, 
 now I have sinned away the day of grace prayer is of 
 no use. Now for your good I warn you not to do as I 
 have done." Sighs and groans, together with a profusion 
 of tears, evinced the indescribable agony of the spectators. 
 But it was too much for her affectionate aunt, who had had 
 the care of her education from her youth, to believe her 
 in her right, mind, and intimated to a friend, she thought 
 her to be light headed. This Mrs. A. readily denied, and 
 assured them she had her reason perfectly clear, and 
 added, " I suppose some would not tell where they were 
 going, if in my case ; but I tell you that you may know 
 where I am, and if you don't want ray company there, you 
 must live better lives ! don't let PRIDE ruin you, as it has 
 me ! Now, since I must go to hell, I don't care how soon. 
 I have been a great sinner," and fixing her eyes on Mr, 
 A. said, " I ask your forgiveness I ask all your forgive- 
 ness I must go ! I must go to hell !" Nearly exhausted, 
 she lay silent a few moments, then with a tone of voice
 
 16 
 
 dreadfully expressive, and despair emanating from her dis- 
 torted countenance, she cried out, " Oh ! DEVILS ! must 
 I go to bum in everlasting torment ! Oh Jesus! Jesus' 
 Jesus !" I sat on one side, and Mr. A. on the other, sup 
 porting her in the last struggles of mortality. Her strength 
 appeared gone, and we thought her dying agonies might 
 be past: when on a sudden, she started with a ghastly 
 stare towards the front windows nearly turned herself to 
 the other side of the bed flung her arms around the neck 
 of Mr. A. crying out, " The DEVIL is coming ! keep him 
 off! keep him oif ! pray ! pray ! pray ! don't let him come ! 
 don't let him come !" Then she sank down and expired ! 
 
 IIYMX. 
 THE season of youth is soon past, 
 
 It fades as a flower of the field ; 
 Now then is the time to make haste 
 
 Your hearts up to Jesus to yield. 
 Redeem'd by the price of his blood, 
 
 His service by grace is design'd, 
 As soon as you choose it for good, 
 
 The joy and delight of the mind. 
 What fears and what sighs will it cost, 
 
 To follow the world and its charms ; 
 When all its gay pleasures are lost, 
 
 And nothing is reaped but harms ! 
 With promises fair it beguiles, 
 
 Which daggers unmerciful sheathe 
 To stab us that moment its smiles 
 
 Have lured to the chambers of death. 
 Expect not the time of old age 
 
 The cause of religion t' espouse ; 
 When sumrnon'd from earth's latest stage 
 
 No motives to virtue can rouse ; 
 Prevent then that sorrowful eve 
 
 Where courage and strength are no more : 
 Nor hope your sad loss to retrieve 
 
 When cast on life's farthermost shore. 
 
 PUBLISHED B7 N. BANGS AKD J. EMORT, 
 
 oi.theTiact Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, at the 
 Conference Office, 14 Crosbystrcer. 
 
 , A. Hovt, Printer; 
 
 75
 
 NO. 76 
 
 THE SUBSTANCE OF 
 
 LESLIE'S METHOD WITH DEISTS; 
 
 AND 
 
 TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY DEMONSTRATED. 
 
 DEAR SIR You are desirous, you inform me, to receive 
 from me some one topic of reason, which shall demon- 
 strate the truth of the Christian religion, and at the same 
 time distinguish it from the impostures of Mohammed, 
 and the heathen deities: that our deists may be brought 
 to this test, and be obliged either to renounce 'heir reason 
 and the common reason of mankind, or to admit the clear 
 proof, from reason, of the revelation of Christ; which must 
 be such a proof as no impostor can pretend to, otherwise 
 it will not prove Christianity not to be an imposture. And 
 you cannot but imagine, you add, that there must be such 
 a proof, because every truth is in itself one: and therefore 
 one reason for it, if it be a true reason, must be sufficient ; 
 and, if sufficient, better than many : because multiplicity 
 creates confusion, especially in weak judgments. 
 
 Sir, you have imposed a hard task upon me : I wish I 
 could perform it. For, though every truth be one, yet our 
 sight is so feeble, that we cannot always come to it directly, 
 but by many inferences and layings of things together. 
 But, I think, that in the case before us, there is such a 
 proof as you desire, and I will set it down as shortly and 
 as plainly as I can.
 
 I suppose,^hen, that the truth of the Christian doctrines 
 will be sufficiently evinced, if the matters of fact recorded 
 of Christ in the gospels are proved to be true ; for his 
 miracles, if true, established the truth of what he delivered. 
 The same may be said with regard to Moses. If he led 
 the children of Israel through the Red sea, and did such 
 other wonderful things as are recorded of him in the book 
 of Exodus, it must necessarily follow that he was sent by 
 God : these being the strongest evidences we can require, 
 and which every deist will confess he would admit, if he 
 himself had witnessed their performance. So that the 
 stress of this cause will depend upon the proof of these 
 matters of fact. 
 
 .With a view, therefore, to this proof, I shall proceed, 
 
 I. To lay down such marks, as to the truth of matters 
 of fact in general, that, where they all meet, such matters 
 of fact cannot be false : and, 
 
 II. To show that they all do meet in the matters of 
 fact of Moses, and of Christ ; and do not meet in those 
 reported of Mohammed, and of the heathen deities, nor 
 can possibly meet in any imposture whatsoever : 
 
 I. The marks are these : 
 
 1. That the fact be such as men's outward senses can 
 .judge of; 
 
 2. That it be performed publicly, in the presence of 
 witnesses ; 
 
 3. That there be public monuments and actions kept up 
 in memory of it ; and, 
 
 4. That such monuments and actions shall be establish- 
 ed, and commence, at the time of the fact. 
 
 The two first of these marks make it impossible for any 
 false fact to be imposed upon men at the time when it was 
 .said to be done, because every man's senses would con- 
 tradict it. For example : Suppose I should pretend that, 
 yesterday, I divided the Thames, in the presence of all 
 the people of London, and led the whole city over to 
 Southwark on dry land, the waters standing like walls on 
 each side : it would be morally impossible for me to con- 
 vince the people of London that this was true ; when every 
 man, woman, and child, could contradict me, and affirm 
 that they had not seen the Thames so divided, nor been 
 led over "to Southwark on dry land. I take it then for 
 granted, (and I apprehend with the allowance of all the
 
 deists in the world,) that no such imposition could be put 
 upon mankind at the time when such matter of fact was 
 said to be done. 
 
 " But," it may he urged, " the fact might be invented, 
 when the men of that generation in which it was said to 
 be done, were all past and gone ; and fhe credulity of 
 after ages might be induced to believe that things had 
 been performed in earlier times, which had not !" 
 
 From this, the two latter marks secure us, as much as 
 the two first, in the former case. For whenever such a fact 
 was invented, if it were stated that not only public monu- 
 ments of it remained, but likewise that public actions or 
 observances had been kept up in memory of it ever since, 
 the deceit must be detected by no such monuments ap- 
 pearing, and by the.experience of every man, woman, and 
 child, who must know that no such actions or observances 
 had ever taken place. For example : Suppose I should 
 now fabricate a story of something done a thousand years 
 ago I might perhaps get a ,fcw persons to believe me ; but 
 if I were farther to add, that from that day to this, every 
 man, at the age of twelve years, had a joint of his little 
 finger cut off in memory of it. and that of course every 
 man then Jiving actually wanted a joint of that finger, 
 and vouched this institution in confirmation of its truth : 
 it would be morally impossible for me to gain credit in 
 such a case, because every man then living would con- 
 tradict me, as to the circumstance of cutting off a joint of 
 the finger ; and that being an essential part of my ori- 
 ginal matter of fact, must prove the whole to be false. 
 
 II. Let us now come to the second point, and show that 
 all these marks do meet in the matters of fact of Moses, 
 and of Christ ; and do not meet in those reported of Mo- 
 hammed, and of the heathen deities, nor can possibly meet. 
 in any imposture whatsoever. 
 
 As to Moses, he, I take it for granted, could not have 
 persuaded six hundred thousand men, that he had brought 
 them out of Egypt by the Red sea, fed them forty years with 
 miraculous manna, &c, if it had not been true : because 
 the senses of every man who was then alive would have 
 contradicted him. So that here are the two first marks. 
 
 For t^e same reason, it would have been equally impos- 
 sible lor him to have made them receive his five books as 
 true, which related all these things as done before their 
 
 76
 
 eyes, if they had not been so done. Observe how posi- 
 tively he speaks to them : " And know you this day, for I 
 speak not with your children, which have not known, and 
 which have not seen the chastisement of the Lord your 
 God, his greatness, his mighty hand, and his stretched 
 out arm, and his miracles ; but your eyes have seen all 
 the great acts of the Lord which he did," Deut. xi, 2-7. 
 Hence we must admit it to be impossible that these books, 
 if written by Moses in support of an imposture, could have 
 been put upon the people who were alive at the time when 
 such things were said to be done. 
 
 " But they might have been written," it may be urged, 
 ' in some age after Moses, and published as his !" 
 
 " To this I reply, that, if it were so, it was impossible 
 they should have been received as such; because they 
 speak of themselves as delivered by Moses, and kept in 
 the ark from his time, Deut. xxxi, 24-26, and state that a 
 copy of them was likewise deposited in the hands of the 
 king, " that he might learn to fear the Lord his God, to 
 keep all the words of this law and these statutes, to do 
 them," Deut. xvii, 19. Here these books expressly repre- 
 sent themselves as being not only the civil history, but 
 also the established municipal law, of the Jews, binding 
 the king as well as the people. In whatever age, there- 
 fore, after Moses, they might have been forged, it was 
 impossible they should have gained any credit ; because 
 they could not then have been found either in the ark, or 
 with the king, or any where else : and when they were 
 first published, every body must know that they had never 
 heard of them before. 
 
 And they could still less receive them as their book of 
 statutes, and the standing law of the land, by which they 
 had all along been governed. Could any man, at this day, 
 invent a set of acts of parliament for England, and make 
 it pass upon the nation, as the only book of statutes which 
 they had ever known? As impossible was it for these 
 books, if written in any age after Moses, to have been 
 received for what they declare themselves to be, that is, 
 the municipal law of the Jews ; and for any man to have 
 persuaded that people, that they had owned them as then- 
 code of statutes from the time of Moses, that is, before 
 they had ever heard of them ! Nay, more : they must in- 
 stantly have forgotten their former laws, if they could
 
 receive these books as such ; and as such only could they 
 receive them, because such they vouched themselves to be. 
 Let me ask the deists but one short question : " Was a 
 book of sham laws ever palmed upon any nation, since 
 the world began?" If not, with what face can they say 
 this of the law books of the Jews ? Why will they affirm 
 that of them, which they admit never to have happened 
 in any other instance ? 
 
 But they must be still more unreasonable. For the 
 books of Moses have an ampler demonstration of their 
 truth, than even other law books have ; as they n' t only 
 contaii\the laws themselves, but give an historical account 
 of their institution, and regular fulfilment: of the passover, 
 for instance, in memory of their supernatural protection, 
 upon the slaying of the first-born of Egypt : the dedica- 
 tion of the first-born of Israel ; both of man and beast ; 
 the preservation of Aaron's rod which budded, of the pot 
 of manna, and of the brazen serpent, which remained till 
 the days of Hezrckiah, 2 Kings xviii, 4, &,c. And, be- 
 sides these memorials of particular occurrences, there 
 were other solemn observances, in general memory of 
 their deliverance out of Egypt, &c, as their annual expia- 
 tions, their new moons, their sabbaths, and their ordinary 
 sacrifices : so ' that there were yearly, monthly, weekly, 
 and daily recognitions of these things. The same books 
 likewise farther inform^ us, that the tribe of Levi were 
 appointed aad consecrated by God as his ministers, by 
 whom alone these institutions were to be celebrated ; that 
 it was death for any others to approach the altar ; that 
 their high priest wore a brilliant mitre and magnificent 
 robes, with the miraculous Trim and Thummim in his 
 breast plate ; that at his word all the people were to go 
 out, and to come in ; that these Levites were also their 
 judges, even in all civil causes, &c. 
 
 Hence, too, therefore, in whatever age after Moses they 
 might have been forged, it was impossible they should 
 have gained any credit : unless indeed the fabricators could 
 have made the whole nation believe, in spite of their inva- 
 riable experience to the contrary, that they had received 
 these books long before, from thrir fatiiers ; had been 
 taught them when they were children, and had taught 
 them to their own children ; that they had been circiun 
 cised themselves, had circumcised their families, and uni
 
 6 
 
 ibrmly observed their whole minute detail of sacrifices and 
 ceremonies ; that they had never eaten any swine's flesh 
 or other prohibited meats-; that they had a splendid taber- 
 nacle, with a regular priesthood to administer in it, con- 
 fined to one particular tribe, and a superintendent high 
 priest, wliose death alone could deliver those that had fled 
 to the cities of refuge ; that these priests were their ordi- 
 nary judges, even in civil matters, &c. But this would 
 surely have been impossible, ff none of these things had 
 been practised ; and it would consequently have been im- 
 possible to circulate, as true, a set of books w Inch-affirmed 
 that they had practised them, and upon that practice rested 
 their own pretensions to acceptance. So that here are the 
 two latter marks. 
 
 " But," to advance to the utmost degree of supposition, 
 it may be urged, " these things might have been practised 
 prior to this alleged forgery ; and those books only deceived 
 the nation, by making them believe that they were practised 
 in memory of such and such occurrences as were then in- 
 vented!" 
 
 ' In this hypothesis, however groundless, the same im- 
 possibilities press upon our notice as before. For it im- 
 plies that the Jews had previously kept these observances 
 in memory of nothing, or without knowing why they kept 
 them; whereas, in all their particulars, they strikingly 
 express their original : as the passover, instituted in 
 memory of God's passing over the children of the Israel 
 ites, when he slew the first-born of Egypt, &c. 
 
 Let us admit, however contrary both to probability and 
 to matter of fact, that they did not know why they kept 
 these observances ; yet, was it possible to persuade them 
 that they were kept in memory of something which they 
 had never heard of before 1 For example : Suppose I 
 should now forge some romantic story of strange things 
 done a long while ago ; and, in confirmation of this, 
 should ^endeavour to convince the Christian world that 
 they had regularly, from that period to this, kept holy the 
 first day of the week, in memory of such or such a man : 
 a Cesar, or a Mohammed : and had all been baptized in his 
 name, and sworn by it upon the very book which I had 
 then fabricated, and which of course they had never seen 
 before in their public courts of judicature ; that this book 
 likewise contained their law, civil and ecclesiastical.
 
 which they had ever since his time acknowledged, and no 
 other : I ask any deist, whether he thinks it possible 
 that such a cheat could be received as the gospel of Chris- 
 tians, or not? The same reason holds with regard to the 
 books of Moses, and must hold with regard to every book, 
 which contains matters of fact accompanied by the above 
 mentioned four marks. For these marks, together, secure 
 mankind from imposition, with regard to any false fact, as 
 well in- after ages, as at the time when it was said to be done. 
 
 Let me produce, as another and a familiar illustration, 
 the fitonehenge of Salisbury Plain. Almost every body 
 has seen, or heard of it ; and yet no body knows by whom, 
 or in memory of what it was set up. 
 
 Now suppose I should write a book to morrow, and 
 state in it that these huge stones were erected by a Cesar 
 or a Mohammed, in memory of such and such of their 
 actions ; and should farther add, that this book was written 
 at the time when those actions were performed, and by 
 the doers themselves, or by eye witnesses ; and had been 
 constantly received as true, and quoted by authors of the 
 greatest credit in regular succession ever since; that it 
 was well known in England, and even enjoined by act oi' 
 parliament to be taught our children, and that we accord- 
 ingly did teach it our children, and had been taught it 
 ourselves when we were children : would this, I demand 
 of any deist, pass current in England 1 Or, rather, should 
 not I, or any other person, who might insist upon its re- 
 ception, instead of being believed, be considered insane ? 
 
 Let us compare, then, this rude structure with the 
 Stonehenge, as I may call it, or " twelve stones" set up 
 at Gilgal, Joshua iv, 6. It is there said, that the reason 
 why they were set up was, that when the children of the 
 Jews, in after ages, should ask their meaning, it should be 
 told them, chap, iv, 20-22. And the thing, in memory of 
 which theyVere set up, the passage over Jordan, was such 
 as could not possibly have been imposed upon that people, 
 at the time when it was said to be done : it was not less 
 miraculous, and from the previous notice, preparations, 
 and other striking circumstances of its performance, chap, 
 lii, 5, 15, still more unassailable by the petty cavils of infi- 
 del sophistry, than their passage through the Red sea. 
 
 Now, to form our argument, let us suppose that there 
 never was any such thing as that passage over^ Jordan ;
 
 that these stones at Gilgal had been set up on some un- 
 known occasion; and that some designing man, in au 
 after age, invented this book of Joshua, affirmed that it 
 was written at the time of that imaginary event by Joshua 
 himself, and adduced this pile of stones as a testimony of 
 its truth : would not every body say to him, " We know 
 this pile very well, but we never 'before heard of this rea- 
 son lor it, nor of this book of Joshua. Where has it lain 
 concealed all this while? And where and how came you, 
 after so long a period, to find it 1 Be&ides, it informs us, 
 that this passage over Jordan was solemnly directed to bo 
 taught our children, from age to age ; and, to that end, 
 that they were always to be instructed in the meaning of 
 this particular monument : but we were never taught it 
 ourselves, when we were children, nor did we ever teach 
 it to our children. And it is in the highest degree impro- 
 bable that such an emphatic ordinance should have been 
 forgotten, during the continuance of so remarkable a pile 
 of stones, set up expressly for the purpose of preserving 
 its remembrance." 
 
 If, then, for these reasons, no such fabrication could be 
 put upon us, as to the stones in Salisbury plain ; how much 
 iess could it succeed, as to the stonage at Gilgal? If, 
 where we are ignorant of the true origin of a mere naked 
 monument, such a sham origin cannot be imposed, how 
 much less practicable would it be to impose upon us in 
 actions and observances, which we celebrate in memory 
 of what we actually know ; to make us forget what we 
 have regularly commemorated ; and to persuade us that 
 we have constantly kept such and such institutions, with 
 reference to something which we never heard of before ! 
 That is, that we knew something before we knew it ! 
 And, if we find it thus impossible to practise deceit, even 
 in cases which have not the above four marks, how much 
 more impossible must it be that any deceit should be prac- 
 tised in cases in which all these four marks meet. 
 
 In the matters of fact of Christ likewise, as well as in 
 those of Moses, these four marks are to be found. The 
 reasoning, indeed, which has been already advanced with 
 respect to the Old Testament, is generally applicable to 
 the New. The miracles of Christ, like those of Moses, 
 were such as men's ou i ward senses could judge of; arid 
 were performed publicly, in the presence of those to whom
 
 9 
 
 the history of them, contained in the gospel, was addressed. 
 And it is related, that " about three thousand" at one time, 
 Acts ii, 41, and about " five thousand" at another, iv, 4, 
 were converted in consequence of what they themselves 
 saw and heard, in matters where it was impossible that 
 they should have been deceived. He.e, therefore, were 
 the two first marks. 
 
 And, with regard to the two latter, baptism and the 
 Lord's supper were instituted as memorials of certain 
 things, not in after ages, but, at the time when these things 
 were said to be done ; and have been strictly observed, 
 from that time to this, without interruption. Christ himself 
 also ordained apostles, &c, to preach and administer his 
 ordinances, and to govern his church " even unto the end 
 of the world." Now the Christian ministry is as notorious 
 a matter of fact among us as the setting apart of the tribe 
 of Levi was among the Jews ; and as the era and object of 
 their appointment are part of the gospel narrative, if that 
 narrative had been a fiction of some subsequent age, at the 
 time of its fabrication no such order of men could have 
 been found, which would have effectually given the lie to 
 the \Wiole story. And the truth of the matters of fact of 
 Christ, being no otherwise asserted than as there were at 
 the time (whenever the deist will suppose the gospel to 
 have been fabricated) public ordinances and a public 
 ministry of his institution to dispense them, and it being 
 impossible, upon this hypothesis, that there could be any 
 such things then in existence, we must admit it to be 
 equally impossible that the forgery should have been suc- 
 cessful. Hence, it was as impossible to deceive mankind, 
 in respect to these matters of fact, by inventing them in 
 after ages, as at the time when they were said to be done. 
 
 The matters of fact, reported of Mohammed and of the 
 heathen deities, do all want some of these four marks, by 
 which the certainty of facts is established. Mohammed 
 himself, as he tells us in his Koran, (vi, &c,) pretended to 
 no miracles ; and those which are commonly related of 
 him pass, even among his followers, for ridiculous legends, 
 and as such are rejected by their scholars and philosophers. 
 They have not either of the two first marks ; for his- con- 
 verse with the moon, his night journey from Mecca to 
 Jerusalem, and thence to heaven, &c, were not performed 
 before any witnesses nor was the tour indeed of a nature
 
 10 
 
 to admit human attestation : and to the two latter they 
 do not even affect to advance any claim. 
 
 The same may be affirmed, with little variation, of the 
 stories of the heathen deities : of Mercury's stealing sheep, 
 Jupiter's transforming himself into a bull, &c, besides the 
 absurdity of such degrading and profligate adventures. 
 And accordingly we find that the more enlightened pa- 
 gans themselves considered them as fables involving a 
 mystical meaning, of which several of their writers have 
 endeavoured to give us the explication. It is true, these 
 gods had their priests, their feasts, their games, and other 
 public ceremonies ; but all these want the fourth mark, 
 of commencing at the time when the things which they 
 commemorate were said to have been done. Hence they 
 cannot secure mankind, in subsequent ages, from impos- 
 ture, as they furnish no internal means of detection at the 
 period of the forgery. The Bicchanalia, for example, 
 and other heathen festivals, were established long after 
 the events to which they refer ; and the priests of Juno, 
 Mars, &-c. were not ordained by those imaginary deities, 
 but appointed by others in some after age, and are there- 
 fore no evidence to the truth of their preternatural achieve- 
 ments. 
 
 To apply what has been said : 
 
 We may challenge all the deists in the world to show 
 any fabulous action accompanied by these four marks. 
 The thing is impossible. The histories of the Old and 
 New Testameijt never could have been received, if they 
 had not been true ; because the priesthoods of Levi and 
 of Christ, the observance of the sabbath, the passover, 
 and circumcision, and the ordinances of baptism and the 
 Lord's supper, &c, are there represented as descending 
 uninterruptedly from the times of their respective institu- 
 tion. And it would have been as impossible to persuade 
 men in after ages that they had been circumcised or bap- 
 tized, and celebrated passovers, sabbaths, and other ordi- 
 nances, under the ministration of a certain order of priests, 
 if they had done none of those things, as to make them 
 believe at the time, without any real foundation, that they 
 had gone through seas on dry land, seen the dead raised, 
 &/c. But without such a persuasion, it was impossible 
 that either the law or the gospel could have been received.
 
 11 
 
 And the truth of the matters of fact of each being uo 
 otherwise asserted than as such public ceremonies had 
 been previously practised, their certainty is established 
 upon the FULL CONVICTION OF THE SENSES OF MANKIND. 
 
 I do not say that every thing which wants these four 
 marks is false ; but that every thing which has them all, 
 must be true. 
 
 I can have no doubt that there was such a man as Julius 
 Cesar, that he conquered at Pharsalia, and was killed in 
 the senate house, though neither his actions nor his assas- 
 sination be commemorated by any public observances. But 
 this shows that the matters of fact of Moses and of Christ 
 have come down to us better certified than any other what- 
 soever. And yet our deists, who would consider any one 
 as hopelessly irrational, that should offer to deny the exist- 
 ence of Cesar, value themselves as the Only men of pro-' 
 found sense and judgment, for ridiculing the histories of 
 Moses and of Christ, though guarded by infallible marks, 
 which that of Cesar wants. 
 
 Besides, the nature of the subject would of itself lead to 
 a more minute examination of the one than of the other : 
 for of what consequence is it to me, or to the world, 
 whether there ever was such a man as Cesar; whether he 
 conquered at Pharsalia, and was killed in the senate house, 
 or not ? But our eternal welfare is concerned in the U'uth 
 of what is recorded in the Scriptures ; whence they would 
 naturally be more narrowly scrutinized, when proposed for 
 acceptance. 
 
 How unreasonable, then, is it to reject matters of faci. 
 so important, so sifted, and so attested; and yet to think it 
 absurd, even to madness, to deny other matters or fact 
 which have not the thousandth part of their evidence 
 have had comparatively little investigation and are of n 
 consequence at all !
 
 12 
 
 The Truth of Christianity Demonstrated. 
 
 To the preceding four marks, which are common to the 
 matters of fact of Moses and of Christ, I now proceed to 
 subjoin four additional marks ; the three last of which, no 
 matter of fact, how true soever, either has had, or can 
 have, except that of Christ. 
 
 This will obviously appear, if it be considered, 
 
 5. That the book, which relates the facts, contains like- 
 wise the laws of the people to whom it belongs ; 
 
 6. That Christ was previously announced, for that very 
 period, by a long train of prophecies ; and, 
 
 7. Still more peculiarly prefigured by types, both of a 
 circumstantial and personal nature, from the earliest 
 ages ; and, 
 
 8. That the facts of Christianity are such, as to make 
 it impossible for either their relaters or hearers to believe 
 them, if false, without supposing a universal deception of 
 the senses of mankind. 
 
 The fifth mark, which has been subordinately discuss- 
 ed in the former part of this tract, in such a manner as 
 to supersede the necessity of dwelling upon it in this, ren- 
 ders it impossible for any one to have imposed such a book 
 upon any people. For example : suppose I should forge a 
 code of laws for Great Britain, and publish it next term ; 
 could I hope to persuade the judges, lawyers, and people, 
 that this was their genuine statute book, by which all their 
 causes had been determined in the public courts for so 
 many centuries past! Before they could be brought to 
 this, they must totally forget their established laws, which 
 they had so laboriously committed to memory, and so 
 familiarly quoted in every day's practice, and believe that 
 this new book, which they had never seen before, was 
 that old book, which had been pleaded so long in West- 
 minster Hall, which has been so often printed, and of 
 which the originals are now so carefully preserved in the 
 tower. 
 
 This applies strongly to the books of Mopes, in which, 
 not only the history of the Jews, but likewise their whole 
 law, secular and ecclesiastical, was contained. And though, 
 from the early extension and destined universality of the 
 Christian system, it could not, without unnecessary confu- 
 sion, furnish a uniform civil code to all its various followers, 
 
 76
 
 13 
 
 Who were already under the government of laws in some 
 degree adapted to their respective climates and characters, 
 yet was it intended as the spiritual guide of the new 
 church. And in this respect this mark is still stronger 
 with regard to the gospel, than even to the books of 
 Moses; inasmuch as it is easier (however hard) to imagine 
 the substitution of an entire statute book in one particular 
 nation, than that all the nations of Christendom should have 
 unanimously conspired in the forgery. But without such 
 a conspiracy, such a forgery could never have succeeded, 
 as the gospel universally formed a regular part of their 
 daily public offices. 
 
 But I hasten to the sixth mark, namely, prophecy. 
 
 The great fact of Christ's coming was previously an 
 nounced to the Jews, in the Old Testament, " by all the 
 holy prophets which have been since the world began," 
 Luke i, 70. 
 
 The first promise upon the subject was made to Adam, 
 immediately after the fall, Gen. iii, 15. Compare Col. ii, 15, 
 and Heb. ii, 14. 
 
 He was again repeatedly promised to Abraham, Gen. 
 xii, 3, xviii, 18, and xxii, 18 ; Gal. iii, 16 ; to Isaac, Gen. 
 xxvi, 4, and to Jacob, Gen. xxviii, 14. 
 
 Jacob expressly prophesied of him, under the appellation 
 of " Shiloh," or Him that was to be sent, Gen. xlix, 10. 
 Balaam also, with the vciice of inspiration, pronounced him 
 " the Star of Jacob, and the sceptre of Israel," Numb, 
 xxiv, 17. Moses spake of him, as One " greater than 
 himself," Deut. xviii, 15, 18, 19; Acts iii, 22. And 
 Daniel hailed his arrival, under the name of " Messiah 
 the Prince," chap, ix, 25. 
 
 It was foretold, that he should be born of a virgin, Isa. 
 vii, 14, in the city of Bethlehem, Micah v, 2, of the seed 
 of Jesse, Isa. xi, 1, 10; that he should lead a life of 
 poverty and suffering, Psalm xxii, inflicted upon him, 
 " not for himself." Dan. ix, 26, but for the sins of others, 
 Isa. liii, and, after a short confinement in the grave, 
 should rise again, Psalm xvi, 10; Acts ii, 27, 31, and 
 xiii, 35-37 ; that he " should sit upon the throne of 
 David for ever," and be called " the mighty God," Isa, 
 ix, 6, 7, "the Lord our righteousness," Jer. xxxiii, 16; 
 " Immanuel, that is, God with us," Isa. vii, 14 ; Matt, 
 i, 23 ; and by David himself, whose son he was according 
 2 76
 
 14 
 
 to the flesh, " Lord," Psalm ex, 1, applied to Christ by 
 himself. Matt, xxii, 44, and by Peter, Acts ii, 34. 
 
 The time of his incarnation was to be before " the 
 sceptre should depart from Judah," Gen. xlix, 10, during 
 the continuance of the second temple, Hag. ii, 7, 9, and 
 within seventy weeks, or 490 days, that is, according to 
 the constant interpretation of prophecy, 490 years from its 
 erection, Dan. ix, 24. 
 
 From these, and many other predictions, the coming of 
 Christ was at all times the general expectation of the Jews ; 
 and fully matured, at the time of his actual advent, as may 
 be inferred from the number of false messiahs who ap- 
 peared about that period. 
 
 That he was likewise the expectation of the Gentiles, 
 (in conformity to the prophecies of Gen. xxix, 10, and 
 Hag. ii, 7, where the terms " people," and " nations," 
 denote the heathen world,) is evinced by the coming of 
 the wise men from the east, &c, a story, which would of 
 course have been contradicted !>y some of the individuals 
 so disgracefully concerned in it, if the fact of their arrival, 
 and the consequent massacre of the infants in and about 
 Bethlehem, had not been fresh in every one's memory : 
 by them, for instance, who afterwards suborned false wit- 
 nesses against Christ, and gave large money to the soldiers 
 to conceal, if possible, the event of his resurrection ; or 
 them who, in still later days, every where zealously " spake 
 against" the tenets and practices of his rising church. 
 
 All over the east, indeed, there was a general tradition, 
 that about that time a king of the JEWS would be born, who 
 should govern the whole earth. This prevailed so strongly 
 at Rome, a few months before the birth of Augustus, that 
 the senate made a decree, to expose all the children born 
 that year ; but the execution of it was eluded by a trick 
 of some of the senators, who, from the pregnancy of their 
 wives, were led to hope that they might be the fathers of 
 the promised prince. Its currency is also recorded with 
 a remarkable identity of phrase, by the pens of Suetonius 
 and Tacitus. Now that in this there was no collusion 
 between the Chaldeans, Romans, and Jews, is sufficiently 
 proved by the desperate methods suggested, or carried 
 into effect, for its discomfiture. Nor, in fact, is it prac- 
 ticable for whole nations of contemporary (and still less, 
 if possible, for those of successive) generations, to concert
 
 15 
 
 a story perfectly harmonious in all its minute accompani- 
 ments of time, place, manner, and other circumstances. 
 
 In addition to the above general predictions of the 
 coming, life, death, and resurrection of Christ, there are 
 others which foretel still more strikingly several particular 
 incidents of the gospel narrative ; instances unparalleled 
 in the whole range of history, and which could have been 
 foreseen by God alone. They were certainly not foreseen 
 by the human agents concerned in their execution ; or 
 they would never have contributed to the fulfilment oi' 
 prophecies referred even by themselves to the Messiah, 
 and therefore verifying the divine mission of him whom 
 they crucified as an impostor. 
 
 Observe, then, how literally many of these predictions 
 were fulfilled. For example : read Psa. Ixix, 21, " They 
 gave me gall to eat, and vinegar to drink ;" and compare 
 Matt, xxvii, 34, " They gave him vinegar to drink, mingled 
 with gall." Again, it is said, Psa. xxii, 16-18, " They 
 pierced my hands and my feet. They part my garments 
 among t\ em, and cast lots upon my vesture ;"* as if it had 
 been wr'.tten after, John <ix, 23, 24. It is predicted, like- 
 
 * The soldiers did not tear his coat, because it was without seam, 
 woven from the tup throughout; and therefore they cast lots for it. 
 But this was entirely accidental. With the passage in the Psalms, 
 as Romans, they were not likely to be acquainted. The same re- 
 mark applies to the next instance, from Zechariah. 
 
 And here it may be suggested, (in reply to those who insidiously 
 magnify " the power of chance, the ingenuity of accommodation, 
 and the industry of research," as chiefly supporting the credit of' 
 obscure prophecy,) that greater plainness would have enabled 
 wicked men, as tree agents, to prevent its accomplishment, when 
 obviously directed against themselves. The Jews not understand- 
 ing what Christ meant by his " lifting up," John viii, 2, xii, 32, 
 33, and not knowing that he had foretold his crucifixion to his 
 apostles, Matt, xx, 10, instead of finally stoning him thfe death 
 appointed by their law, Lev. xxiv, K>, for blasphemy, Matt, xxvi, 
 65, more than once menaced against the Saviour, John viii, 59, 
 x, 33, and actually inflicted upon Stephen, Acts vii, 58, for that 
 offence unconsciously delivered him to the predicted Roman 
 cross. Again ; the piercing of his side was no part of the Roman 
 sentence, but merely to ascertain his being dead, previously to 
 taking him down from the cross ; " that the body might not remain 
 there on the sabbath day," which commenced that evening, a few 
 hours after the crucifixion. From his early gri-imr up the ghost, 
 iiowever, it was not necessary that " a bone of him should be 
 broken," Exod. xii, 46 ; Numb, ix, 12 ; Psa. xxxiv, 20, like those 
 ;.f 'he two thieves, his fellow sufferers, John xix, 32, 36. 
 
 76
 
 16 
 
 wise, Zech. xii, 10, " They shall look upon me whom they 
 have pierced ;" and we are told, John xix, 34, that " one 
 of the soldiers with a spear pierced his side." 
 
 Compare also Psa. xxii, 7, 8, " All they that see me 
 laugh me to scorn : they shoot out their lips and shake 
 their heads, saying, He trusted in God that he would deli- 
 ver him ; let him deliver him if he will have him," with 
 Matt, xxvii, 39, 41, 43, " And they that passed by reviled 
 him. wagging their heads, and saying, Come down from the 
 cross. Likewise also the chief priests mocking him, with 
 the scribes and elders said, He trusted in God : let him 
 deliver him now, if he will have him ; for he said, I am 
 the Son of God." His very price, and the mode of laying 
 out the money, previously specified, Zech. ix, 13, are 
 historically stated by Matthew, in perfect correspondence 
 with the prophet, chap, xxvii, 6, 7. And his riding into 
 Jerusalem upon an ass, predicted, Zech. ix, 9, and refer- 
 red by one of the most learned of the Jewish rabbies to 
 the Messiah, is recorded by the same inspired historian, 
 chap, xxi, 9. Lastly, it was foretold that " he should 
 make his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his 
 death," Isa. liii, 9 ; or, as Dr. Lowth translates the pas- 
 sage, " his grave was appointed with the wicked, but with 
 the rich man was his tomb ;" which prediction was pre- 
 cisely verified by the very improbable incidents of his being 
 crucified between two thieves, Matt, xxvii, 38, and after- 
 wards laid in the tomb of the rich man of Arimathea. Ib. 
 57, 60. 
 
 Thus do the prophecies of the Old Testament, without 
 variation or ambiguity, refer to the person and character 
 of Christ. His own predictions in the New, demand a few 
 brief observations'. 
 
 Those relating to the destruction of Jerusalem, which 
 specified that it should be " laid even with the ground," 
 and " not one stone be left upon another," Luke ix, 44, 
 *' before that generation passed," Matt, xxiv, 34, were 
 fulfilled in a most surprisingly literal manner, the very 
 foundations of the temple being ploughed up by Turnus 
 Rufus. In another remarkable prophecy he announced the 
 many false messiahs that should come after him, and the 
 ruin in which their followers should be involved, Matt, 
 xxvi, 25, 26f That great numbers actually assumed that 
 holy character, before the final fall of the city, and Jed the
 
 17 
 
 people into the wilderness to their destruction, we learn 
 from Josephus. Antiq. Jud. xviii, 12, xx, 6, and B. J. viii, 
 31. Nay, such was their wretched infatuation, that under 
 this delusion they rejected the offers of Titus, who courted 
 them to peace. Id. B. J. vii, 12. 
 
 It will be sufficient barely to mention his foretelling the 
 dispersion of that unhappy nation, and the triumph of his 
 gospel over the gates of hell, under every possible disad- 
 vantage himself low and despised, his immediate asso- 
 ciates only twelve, and those illiterate and unpolished, and 
 his adversaries the allied powers, prejudices, habits, inte- 
 rests, and appetites of mankind. 
 
 But the seventh mark is still more peculiar, if possible, 
 to Christ, than even that of prophecy. For whatever may 
 be weakly pretended with regard to the oracular predic- 
 tions of Delphi or Dodona, the heathens never affected to 
 prefigure any future event by types or resemblances of the 
 fact, consisting of analogies either in individuals, or in sen- 
 sible institutions directed to be continued, till the antitype 
 itself should make its appearance. 
 
 These types, in the instance of Christ, were of a two- 
 fold nature, circumstantial and personal. 
 
 Of the former kind (not to notice the general rite of 
 sacrifice) may be produced, as examples: 1. The pass- 
 over, appointed in memory of that great night, when, the 
 destroying angel, who slew all " the first-born of Egypt," 
 passed over those houses upon whose door posts the blood 
 of the paschal lamb was sprinkled ; and directed to be 
 eaten with what the apostle, 1 Cor. v, 7, 8, calls " the 
 unleavened bread of sincerity and truth." 2. The annual 
 expiation, in two respects : first, as the high priest entered 
 into the holy of holies (representing heaven, Exod. xxv, 
 40, Heb. ix, 24,) with the blood of the sacrifice, whose 
 body was burnt without the camp, " wherefore Jesus also, 
 that he might sanctify the people with his own blood, suf- 
 fered without the gate," Heb. xiii, 12, and " after he had 
 offered one sacrifice for sin, for ever sat down at the right 
 hand of God," x, 12; and secondly, as "all the iniquity 
 of the children of Israel was put upon the head" of the 
 scape goat, Lev. xvi, 21. 3. The brazen serpent, by look- 
 ing up to which the people were cured of the stings of the 
 fiery serpents ; and whose " lifting up" was, by Christ 
 himself, interpreted as emblematical of his being lifted up 
 2* 76
 
 18 
 
 on the cross, John iii, 14. 4. The manna, which repre- 
 sented "the bread oflife, that came down from heaven," 
 John vi, 3135. 5. The rock, whence the waters flowed, 
 to supply drink in the wilderness ; " and that rock was 
 Christ," 1 Cor. x, 4. 6. The sabbath, " a shadow of 
 Christ;" Col. ii, 16, 17, and, as a figure of his eternal 
 rest, denominated " a sign of the perpetual covenant," 
 Exod. xxxi, 16, 17 ; Ezek. xx, 12, 20. And, lastly, to omit 
 others, The temple, where alone the shadowy sacrifices 
 were to be offered, because Christ, " the body," was to 
 be offered there himself. 
 
 Of personal types, likewise, I shall confine myself to 
 such as are so considered in the New Testament. 
 
 1. Adam, between whom and Christ a striking series 
 of relations is remarked, Rom. v, 12-21, and 1 Cor. xv, 
 45-49. 2. Noah, who was "saved by water; the like 
 figure whereunto, even baptism, doth now save, us, by the 
 resurrection of Jesus Christ," 1 Peter iii, 20, 21. 3. Mtt- 
 chisedec, king of Salem, who was made " like unto the 
 Son of God, a priest continually," Heb. vii, 3. 4. Abraham, 
 " the heir of the world," Rom. iv, 13, " in whom all the 
 nations of the earth are blest," Gen. xviii, 18. 5. Isaac, 
 in his birth and intended sacrifice, whence also his father 
 received him in a figure, Heb. xi, 19, that is, of the 
 resurrection of Christ. He too was the promised seed, 
 Gen. xxi, 12, and Gal. iii, 16, in whom all the nations of 
 the earth were to be blessed, Gen. xxii, 18. 6. Jacob, in 
 his vision of the ladder, Gen. xxviii, 12, and John i, 51, 
 and his wrestling with the angel ; whence he, and after 
 him the church, obtained the name of Israel, Gen. xxvii, 
 24, and Matt, xi, 21. The Gentile world also, like Jacob, 
 gained the blessing and heirship from their e'der brethren 
 the Jews. 7. Moses, Deut. xviii,' 18, and John i, 45, in 
 redeeming the children of Israel out of Egypt. 8. Joshua, 
 called also Jesus, Heb. iv, 8, in acquiring for them the 
 possession of the Holy Land, and as lieutenant to the 
 " captain of the host of the Lord," Josh, v, 14. 9. David, 
 Psalm xvi, 10, and Acts ii, 25-35, upon whose throne 
 Christ is said to sit, Isa. ix, 7, and by whose name he is 
 frequently designated, Hos. iii, 5, &,c, in his pastoral, 
 regal, and prophetical capacity. 10. Jonah, in his dark 
 imprisonment of three days, applied by Christ to himself, 
 Matt, xii, 40.
 
 19 
 
 The eighth mark is, that the facts of Christianity are 
 such as to make it impossible for either the relators or 
 the hearers to believe them, if false, without supposing 
 a universal deception of the senses of mankind. 
 
 For they were related by the doers, or by eye witnesses, 
 to those who themselves likewise either were, or might 
 have been, present, and undoubtedly knew many that were 
 present, at their performance. To this circumstance, in- 
 deed, both Christ and his apostles often appeal. And they 
 were of such a nature, as wholly to exclude everv chance - 
 of imposition. What juggler could have given sight to him 
 " that was born blind ;" have fed five thousand hungry 
 guests with " five loaves and two fishes ;" or have raised 
 one, who had been " four days buried," from his' grave ? 
 
 When, then, we add to this, that none of the Jewish 
 or Roman persecutors of Christianity, to whom its first 
 teachers frequently referred as witnesses of those facts, 
 ever ventured to deny them ; that no apostate disciple, 
 under the fear of punishment, or the hope of reward, not 
 even the artful and accomplished Julian himself, ever pre- 
 tended to detect them : that neither learning nor ingenuity, 
 in the long lapse of so many years, has been able to show 
 their falsehood : though, for the first three centuries after 
 their promulgation, the civil government strongly stimu- 
 lated hostile inquiry : and that their original relaters, after 
 lives of unintermitted hardship, joyfully incurred death in 
 defence of their truth we cannot imagine the possibility 
 of a more perfect or abundant demonstration. 
 
 It now rests with the deists, if they would vindicate 
 their claim to the self-bestowed title of " men of reason' 1 
 to adduce some matters of fact of former ages, which they 
 allow to be true, possessing evidence superior, or even 
 similar, to those of Christ. This, however, it must at the 
 same time be observed, would be far from proving the mat- 
 ters of fact respecting Christ to be false ; but certainly, 
 without this, they cannot reasonably assert that their own 
 facts alone, so much less powerfully attested, are true. 
 
 Let them produce their Cesar, or Mohammed, 
 
 1. Performing a fact, of which men's outward senses can 
 judge ; 
 
 2. Publicly, in the presence of witnesses ; 16 ; 
 
 3. In memory of which public monuments and Matt, 
 are kept up ; According
 
 20 
 
 4. Instituted and commencing at the time of the fact ; 
 
 5. Recorded likewise in a set of books, addressed to the 
 identical people before whom it was performed, and con- 
 taining their whole code of civil and ecclesiastical laws ; 
 
 6. As the work of one previously announced for that 
 very period by a long train of prophecies ; 
 
 7. And still more peculiarly prefigured by types, both 
 of a circumstantial and personal nature, from the earliest 
 ages ; and, 
 
 8. Of such a character as made it impossible for either 
 the relaters or hearers to believe it, if false, without sup- 
 posing a universal deception of the senses of mankind. 
 
 Farther; let them display, in its professed eye witnesses, 
 similar proofs of veracity; in some doctrines founded upon 
 it, and unaided by force or intrigue, a like triumph over the 
 prejudices and passions of mankind : among its believers, 
 equal skill and equal diligence in scrutinizing its evidences, 
 OR LET THEM SUBMIT TO THE IRRESISTIBLE CERTAINTY 
 OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 
 
 And now, reader, solemnly consider what that religion 
 is, the truth of which is proved by so many decisive marks. 
 It is a declared revelation from God : pronounces all men 
 guilty hi his sight; proclaims pardon as his free gift 
 through the meritorious righteousness, sacrifice, and inter- 
 cession of his only Son, to all who trust alone in his mercy 
 and grace, cordially repenting and forsaking their sins; 
 requires fervent love, ardent zeal, and cordial submission 
 towards himself, and the highest degree of personal purity 
 aad temperance, with rectitude and benevolence towards 
 others ; and offers the aid of the Holy Spirit for these pur- 
 poses, to all who sincerely ask it. Consider, this religion 
 is the only true one, and this is tremendously true; while it 
 promises peace on earth and eternal happiness to all who 
 do receive and obey it, it denounces everlasting destruc- 
 tion against all who do not. It is in vain for you to admit 
 its truth, unless you receive it as your confidence, and 
 obey it as your rule. Oh study, oh embrace it for yourself: 
 and may the God of love and peace be with you. Amen. 
 
 PUBLISHED BT N. BANGS AND J. EMORT, 
 
 -or the Tract Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, at the Conference 
 regal, Office, 14 Crosby-street, New-York. 
 
 -. 
 
 Matt. XH, -t. 
 
 76
 
 13 
 
 Who were already under the government of laws in some 
 degree adapted to their respective climates and characters, 
 yet was it intended as the spiritual guide of the new 
 church. And in this respect this mark is still stronger 
 with regard to the gospel, than even to the books of 
 Moses; inasmuch as it is easier (however haid) to imagine 
 the substitution of an entire statute book in one particular 
 nation, than that all the nations of Christendom should have 
 unanimously conspired in the forgery. But without such ? 
 a conspiracy, such a forgery could never have succeeded, 
 as the gospel universally formed a regular part of their 
 daily public offices. 
 
 But I hasten to the sixth mark, namely, prophecy. 
 
 The great fact of Christ's coming was previously an 
 nounced to the Jews, in the Old Testament, " by all the 
 holy prophets which have been since the world began," 
 Luke i, 70. 
 
 The first promise upon the subject was made to Adam, 
 immediately after the fall, Gen. iii, 15. Compare Cpl. ii, 15, 
 and Heb. ii, 14. 
 
 He was again repeatedly promised to Abraham, Gen. 
 xii, 3, xviii, 18, and xxii, 18 ; Gal. iii, 16 ; to Isaac, Gen. 
 xxvi, 4, and to Jacob, Gen. xxviii, 14. 
 
 Jacob expressly prophesied of him, under the appellation 
 of " Shiloh," or Him that was to be sent, Gen. xlix, 10. 
 Balaam also, with the voice of inspiration, pronounced him 
 " the Star of Jacob, and the sceptre of Israel," Numb. 
 xxiv, 17. Moses spake of him, as One " greater than 
 himself," Deut. xviii, 15, 18, 19; Acts, iii, 22. And 
 Daniel hailed his arrival, under the name of " Messiah 
 the Prince," chap, ix, 25. 
 
 It was foretold, that he should be born of a virgin, Isa. 
 vii, 14, in the city of Bethlehem, Micah v, 2, of the seed 
 of Jesse, Isa. xi, 1, 10; that he should lead a life of 
 poverty and suffering, Psalm xxii, inflicted upon him, 
 " not for himself," Dan. ix, 26, but for the sins of others, 
 Isa. liii, and, after a short confinement in the grave, 
 should rise again, Psalm xvi, 10: Acts ii, 27, 31, and 
 xiii, 35-37 ; that he " should sit upon the throne of 
 David for ever," and be called " the mighty God," Isa. 
 ix, 6, 7, "the Lord our righteousness," Jer. xxxiii, 16; 
 " Immanuel, that is, God with us," Isa. vii, 14 ; Matt, 
 i, 23 ; and by David himself, whoso son he was according 
 2 7 1
 
 14 
 
 to the flesh, " Lord," Psalm ex, 1, applied to Christ by 
 himself. Matt, xxii, 44, and by Peter, Acts ii, 34. 
 
 The time of his incarnation was to be before " the 
 sceptre should depart from Judah," Gen. xlix, 10, during 
 the continuance of the second temple, Hag. ii, 7, 9, and 
 within seventy weeks, or 490 days, that is, according to 
 the constant interpretation of prophecy, 490 years from its 
 erection. Dan. ix, 24. 
 
 From these, and many other predictions, the coming of 
 Christ was at all times the general expectation of the Jews ; 
 and rally matured, at the time of his actual advent, as may 
 be inferred from the number of false messiahs who ap- 
 peared about that period. 
 
 That he was likewise the expectation of the Gentiles, 
 (in conformity to the prophecies of Gen. xxix, 10, and 
 Hag. ii, 7, where the terms "people," and "nations," 
 denote the heathen world,) is evinced by the coming of 
 the wise men from the east, &c, a story, which would of 
 course have been contradicted by some of the individuals 
 so disgracefully concerned in it, if the fact of their arrival, 
 and the consequent massacre of the infants in and about 
 Bethlehem, had not been fresh in every one's memory : 
 by them, for instance, who afterwards suborned false wit- 
 nesses against Christ, and gave large money to the soldiers 
 to conceal, if possible, the event of his resurrection ; or 
 them who, in still later days, every where zealously " spake 
 against" the tenets and practices of his rising church. 
 
 All over the east, indeed, there was a general tradition, 
 that about that time a king of the JEWS would be born, who 
 should govern the whole earth. This prevailed so strongly 
 at Rome, a few months before the birth of Augustus, that 
 the senate made a decree, to expose all the children born 
 that year ; but the execution of it was eluded by a trick 
 of some of the senators, who, from the pregnancy of their 
 wives, were led to hope that they might be the fathers of 
 the promised prince. Its currency is also recorded with 
 a remarkable identity of phrase, by the pens of Suetonius 
 and Tacitus. Now that in this there was no collusion 
 between the Chaldeans, Romans, and Jews, is sufficiently 
 proved by the desperate methods suggested, or carried 
 into effect, for its discomfiture. Nor, in fact, is it prac- 
 ticable for whole nations of contemporary (and still less, 
 if possible, for those of successive) generations, to' concert
 
 15 
 
 a story perfectly harmonious in all its minute accompani- 
 ments of time, place, manner, and other circumstances. 
 
 In addition to the above general predictions of the 
 coming, life, death, and resurrection of Christ, there are 
 others which foretel still more strikingly several particular 
 incidents of the gospel narrative ; instances unparalleled 
 in the whole range of history, and which could have been 
 foreseen by God alone. They were certainly not foreseen 
 by the human agents concerned in their execution ; or 
 they would never have contributed to the fulfilment of 
 prophecies referred even by themselves to the Messiah, 
 and therefore verifying the divine mission of him whom 
 they crucified as an impostor. 
 
 Observe, then, how literally many of these predictions 
 were fulfilled. For example : read Psa. Ixix, 21, " They 
 gave me gall- to eat$ and vinegar to drink ;" and compare 
 Matt, xxvii, 34, " They gave him vinegar to drink, mingled 
 with gall." Again, it is said, Psa. xxii, 16-18, " They 
 pierced my hands and my feet. They part my garments 
 among t\ em, and cast lots upon my vesture ;"* as if it had 
 been wr'.tten after, John xix, 23, 24. It is predicted, like- 
 
 * The soldiers did not tear his coat, because it was without seam, 
 woven from tti? top tkrnuekout; and therefore they cast lots for it. 
 But this was entirely accidental. With the passage in the Psalms, 
 as Romans, they were not likely to be- acquainted. The same re- 
 mark applies to the next instance, from Zechariab. 
 
 And here it may be suggested, (in reply to those who insidiously 
 magnify " the power of chance, the ingenuity of accommodation, 
 and the industry of research," as chiefly supporting the credit of 
 Obscure prophecy,) that greater plainness would have enabled 
 wicked men, as free agents, to prevent its accomplishment, when 
 obviously directed against themselves. The Jews not understand- 
 ing what Christ meant by his " lifting up," John viii, 2b, xii, 32, . 
 33, and not knowing that he had foretold his crucifixion to his 
 apostles, Matt, xx, I'.), instead of finally stoning him the death 
 appointed by their law, Lev. xxiv, 16, for blasphemy, Matt, xxvi, 
 65, more than once menaced against the Saviour, John viii. 59, 
 x, 33. and actually inflicted upon Stephen, Acts vii, 58, for that 
 offence unconsciously delivered him to the predicted Roman 
 cross. Again ; the piercing of his side was no part of the Roman 
 sentence, but merely td ascertain his being dead, previously to 
 taking him down from the cross ; " that the body might not remain 
 there on the sabbath day." which commenced that evening, a few 
 hours after the crucifixion. From his early ./ .hi? up the i'W/, 
 however, it was not necessary that " a bone of him should be . 
 broken," Exod. xii, 46 ; Numb, ix, 12 ; Psa. xxxiv, 20, like those 
 of the two thieves, his fellow sufferers, John xix, 32, 36.
 
 10 
 
 wise, Zech. xii, 10, " They shall look upon rne whom they 
 have pierced ;" and we are told, John xix, 34, that " one 
 of the soldiers with a spear pierced his side." 
 
 Compare also Psa. xxii, 7, 8, " All they that see me 
 laugh me to scorn : they shoot out their lips and shake 
 their heads, saying, He trusted in God that he would deli- 
 ver him ; let him deliver him if he will have him," with 
 Matt, xxvii, 39, 41, 43, " And they that passed by reviled 
 him, wagging their heads, and saying, Come down from the 
 cross. Likewise also the chief priests mocking him, with 
 the scribes and elders said, He trusted in God : let him 
 deliver him now, if he will have him ; for he said, I am 
 the Son of God." His very price, and the mode of laying 
 out the money, previously specified, Zech. ix, 13, are 
 historically stated by Matthew, in perfect correspondence 
 with the prophet, chap, xxvii, 6, 7. And his riding into 
 Jerusalem upon an ass, predicted, Zech. ix, 9, and refer- 
 red by one of the most learned of the Jewish rabbies to 
 the Messiah, is recorded by the same inspired historian, 
 chap, xxi, 9. Lastly, it was foretold that " he should 
 make his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his 
 death," Isa. liii, 9 ; or, as Dr. Lowth translates the pas- 
 sage, " his grave was appointed with the wicked, but with 
 the rich man was his tomb ;" which prediction was pre- 
 cisely verified by the very improbable incidents of his being 
 crucified between two thieves, Matt, xxvii, 38, and after- 
 wards laid in the tomb of the rich man of Arimathea. Ib. 
 57, 60. 
 
 Thus do the prophecies of the Old Testament, without 
 variation or ambiguity, refer to the person and character 
 of Christ. His own predictions in the New, demand a few 
 brief observations. 
 
 Those relating to the destruction of Jerusalem, which 
 specified that it should be " laid even with the ground," 
 and " not one stone be left upon another," Luke ix, 44, 
 *' before that generation passed," Matt, xxiv, 34, were 
 fulfilled in a most surprisingly literal manner, the very 
 foundations of the temple being ploughed up by Turnus 
 Rufus. In another remarkable prophecy he announced the 
 many false messiahs that should come after him, and the 
 ruin in which their followers should be involved, Matt. 
 xxvi, 25, 26. That great numbers actually assumed that 
 holy character, before the final fall of the city, and led the
 
 17 
 
 people into the wilderness to their destruction, , we learn 
 from Josephus. Antiq. Jud. xviii, 12, xx, 6, and B. J. viii, 
 31. Nay, such was their wretched infatuation, that under 
 this delusion they rejected the offers of Titus, who courted 
 them to peace. Id. B. J. vii, 12. 
 
 It will be sufficient barely to mention his foretelling the 
 dispersion of that unhappy nation, and the triumph of his 
 gospel over the gates of hell, under every possible disad- 
 vantage himself low and despised, his immediate asso- 
 ciates only twelve, and those illiterate and unpolished, and 
 his adversaries the allied powers, prejudices, habits, inte- 
 rests, and appetites of mankind. 
 
 But the seventh mark is still more peculiar, if possible, 
 to Christ, than even that of prophecy. For whatever may 
 be weakly pretended with regard to the oracular predic- 
 tions of Delphi or Dodona, the heathens never affected to 
 prefigure any future event by types or resemblances of ihe 
 fact, consisting of analogies either in individuals, or in sen- 
 sible institutions directed to be continued, till the antitype 
 itself should make its appearance. 
 
 These types, in the instance of Christ, were of a two- 
 fold nature, circumstantial and personal. 
 
 Of the former kind (not to notice the general rite of 
 sacrifice) may be produced, as examples: 1. The pass- 
 over, appointed in memory of that great night, when the 
 destroying angel, who slew all " the first-born of Egypt," 
 passed over those houses upon whose door posts the blood 
 of the paschal lamb was sprinkled ; and directed to be 
 eaten with what the apostle, 1 Cor. v, 7, 8, calls " the 
 unleavened bread of sincerity and truth." 2. The annual 
 expiation, in two respects : first, as the high priest entered 
 into the holy of holies (representing heaven, Exod. xxv, 
 40, Heb. ix, 24,) with the blood of the sacrifice, whose 
 body was burnt without the camp, " wherefore Jesus also, 
 that he might sanctify the people with his own blood, suf- 
 fered without the gate," Heb. xiii, 12, and " after he had 
 offered one sacrifice for sin, for ever sat down at the right 
 hand of God," x, 12; and secondly, as "all the iniquity 
 of the children of Israel was put upon the head" of the 
 scape goat, Lev. xvi, 21. 3. The brazen serpent, by look- 
 ing up to which the people were cured of the stings of the 
 fiery serpents ; and whose " lifting up" was, by Christ 
 himself, interpreted as emblematical of his being lifted up
 
 18 
 
 on the cross, John iii, 14. 4. The manna, which repre- 
 sented "the bread of life, that came down from heaven,' : 
 John vi, 31-35. 5. The. rock, whence the waters flowed, 
 to supply drink in the wilderness; " and that rock was 
 Christ," 1 Cor. x, 4. 6. The sabbath, " a shadow of 
 Christ;" Col. ii, 16, 17, and, as a figure of his eternal 
 rest, denominated " a sign of the perpetual covenant," 
 Exod. xxxi, 16, 17 ; Ezek. xx, 12, 20. And, lastly, to omit 
 others, The temple, where alone the shadowy sacrifices 
 were to be offered, because Christ, " the body," was to 
 be offered there himself. 
 
 Of personal types, likewise, I shall confine myself to 
 such as are so considered in the New Testament. 
 
 1. Adam, between whom and Christ a striking series 
 of relations is remarked, Rom. v, 12-21, and 1 Cor. xv, 
 45-49. 2. Noah, who was " saved by water ; the like 
 figure whereunto, even baptism, doth now save us, by the 
 resurrection of Jesus Christ," 1 Peter iii, 20, 21. 3. Mel- 
 chisedec, king of Salem, who was made " like unto the 
 Son of God, a priest continually," Heb. vii, 3. 4. Abraham, 
 " the heir of the world," Rom. iv, 13, " in whom all the 
 nations of the earth are blest," Gen. xviii, 18. 5. Isaac, 
 in his birth and intended sacrifice, whence also his father 
 received him in a figure, Heb. xi, 19, that is, of the 
 resurrection of Christ. He too was the promised seed, 
 Gen. xxi, 12, and Gal. iii, 16, in whom all the nations of 
 the earth were to be blessed, Gen. xxii, 18. 6. Jacob, in 
 his vision of the ladder, Gen. % xxviii, 12, and John i, 51, 
 and his wrestling with the angel ; whence he, and after 
 him the church, obtained the name of Israel, Gen. xxvii, 
 24, and Matt, xi, 21. The Gentile world also, like Jacob, 
 gained the blessing and heirship from their e'der brethren 
 the Jews. 7. Moses, Deut. xviii, 18, and John i, 45, in 
 redeeming the children of Israel out of Egypt. 8. Joshua, 
 called also Jesus, Heb. iv, 8, in acquiring for them the 
 possession of the Holy Land, and as lieutenant to the 
 " captain of the host of the Lord," Josh, v, 14. 9. David, 
 Psalm xvi, 10, and Acts ii, 25-35, upon whose throne 
 Christ is said to sit, Isa. ix, 7, and by whose name he is 
 frequently designated, Hos. iii, 5, &c, in his pastoral, 
 regal, and prophetical capacity. 10. Jonah, in his dark 
 imprisonment of three days, applied by Christ to himself, 
 Matt, xii, 40. 
 
 76
 
 19 
 
 The eighth marie is, that the facts of Christianity are 
 such as to make it impossible for either the relators or 
 the hearers to believe them, if false, without supposing 
 a universal deception of the senses of mankind. 
 
 For they were related by the doers, or by eye witnesses, 
 to those who themselves likewise either were, or might 
 have been, present, and undoubtedly knew many that were 
 present, at their performance. To this circumstance, in- 
 deed, both Christ and his apostles often appeal. And they 
 were of such a nature, as wholly to exclude ever^ chance 
 of imposition. What juggler could have given sight to him 
 " that was born blind ;" have fed five thousand hungry 
 guests with " five loaves and two fishes ;" or have raised 
 one, who had been " four days buried," from his grave ? 
 
 When, then, we add to this, that none of the Jewish 
 or Roman persecutors of Christianity, to whom its first 
 teachers frequently referred as witnesses of those facts, 
 ever ventured to deny them ; that no apostate disciple, 
 under the fear of punishment, or the hope ef reward, not 
 even the artful and accomplished Julian himself, ever pre- 
 tended to detect them : that neither learning nor ingenuity, 
 in the long lapse of so many years, has been able to show 
 their falsehood : though, for the first three centuries after 
 their promulgation, the civil government strongly stimu- 
 lated hostile inquiry : and that their original relaters, after 
 lives of unintermitted hardship, joyfully incurred death in 
 defence of their truth we cannot imagine the possibility 
 of a more perfect or abundant demonstration. 
 
 It now rests with the deists, if they would vindicate 
 their claim to the self-bestowed title of " men of reason" 
 to adduce some matters of fact of former ages, which they 
 allow to be true, possessing evidence superior, or even 
 similar, to those of Christ. This, however, it must at the 
 same time be observed, would be far from proving the mat- 
 ters of fact respecting Christ to be false ; but certainly, 
 without this, they cannot reasonably assert that their own 
 facts alone, so much less powerfully attested, are true. 
 
 Let them produce their Cesar, or Mohammed, 
 
 1. Performing a fact, of which men's outward senses can 
 judge ; 
 
 2. Publicly, in the presence of witnesses ; 
 
 3. In memory of which public monuments and actions 
 are kept up ; 
 
 76 '
 
 20 
 
 4. Instituted and commencing at the time of the fact ; 
 
 5. Recorded likewise in a set of books, addressed to the 
 identical people before whom it was performed, and con- 
 taining their whole code of civil and ecclesiastical laws ; 
 
 6. As the work of one previously announced for that 
 very period by a long train of prophecies ; 
 
 7. And still more peculiarly prefigured by types, both 
 of a circumstantial and personal nature, from the earliest 
 ages; and, 
 
 8. Of such a character as made it impossible for either 
 the relaters or hearers to believe it, if false, without sup- 
 posing a universal deception of the senses of mankind. 
 
 Farther; let them display, in its prof cssed eye witnesses, 
 similar proofs of veracity; in some doctrines founded upon 
 it, and unaided by force or intrigue, a like triumph over the 
 prejudices and passions of mankind : among its believers, 
 equal skill and equal diligence in scrutinizing its evidences, 
 OR LET THEM SUBMIT TO THE IRRESISTIBLE CERTAINTY 
 OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 
 
 And now, reader, solemnly consider what that religion 
 is, the truth of which is proved by so many decisive marks. 
 It is a declared revelation from God ; pronounces all men 
 guilty ii. his sight; proclaims pardon as his free gift 
 through the meritorious righteousness, sacrifice, and inter- 
 cession of his only Son, to all who trust alone in his mercy 
 and grace, cordially repenting and forsaking their sins; 
 requires fervent love, ardent zeal, and cordial submission 
 towards himself, and the highest degree of personal purity 
 and temperance, with rectitude and benevolence towards 
 others; and offers the aid of the Holy Spirit for these pur- 
 poses, to all who sincerely ask it. Consider, this religion 
 is the only true one, and this is tremendously true; while it 
 promises peace on earth and eternal happiness to all who 
 do receive and obey it, it denounces everlasting destruc- 
 tion against all who do not. It is in vain for you to admit 
 its truth, unless you receive it as your confidence, and 
 obey it as your rule. Oh study, oh embrace it for yourself: 
 and may the God of love and peace be with you. Amen, 
 
 PUBLISHED BY N. BANGS AND J. EMORT, 
 
 For the Tract Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, at the Conference 
 Office, 14 Crosby-street, New-York. 
 
 Jlzor Koyt, Printer.
 
 WO. 77. 
 ON DRESS. 
 
 FROM MR. WESLEY'S ADVICE TO THE PEOPLE CALLED 
 METHODISTS. 
 
 1. 1. MANY years ago, I observed several parts of Chris- 
 tian practice among the people called Quakers. Two 
 thing? I particularly remarked among them, plainness of 
 speech and plainness of dress. I willingly adopted both, 
 wit* 1 -ome restrictions, and particularly plainness of dress; 
 the same I recommended to you, when God first called 
 you out of the world ; and after the addition of more than 
 twenty years' experience, I recommend it to you still, 
 
 2. But before I go any farther, I must entreat you, in 
 the name of God, be open to conviction. Whatever pre- 
 judices you have contracted from education, custom, or 
 example, dives^ yourselves of them as far as possible. Be 
 willing to receive light either from God or man : do not 
 shut your eyes against it, Rath,er be glad to see more 
 than you did before, to have the eyes of your understand- 
 ing opened. Receive the truth in the love thereof, and 
 you will have reason to bless God for ever. 
 
 II! 1. Not that I would advise you to imitate the peo- 
 ple called Quakers, in those little peculiarities of dress, 
 which can answer no possible end but to distinguish them 
 from other people. To be singular, merely for singularity's 
 sake, is not the part of a Christian. I do not therefore 
 advise you to wear a hat of such dimensions, or a coat of 
 a particular form. Rather, in things thit arc absolutely 
 indifferent, that are of no consequence at all, humility and 
 courtesy require you to conform to the customs of your 
 country. 
 
 2. But I advise you to imitate them, first, in the neat- 
 ness of their apparel. This is highly to be commended, 
 and quite suitable to your Christian calling. Lrt all your 
 apparel therefore be as clean as your situation hi life will 
 allow. 
 
 I advise you to imitate them, secondly, in the plainness 
 of their apparel. In this are implied two things: 1. That 
 your apparel be cheap, not expensive; far cheaper than 
 Others in your circumstances weir, or than you wouli 
 wear, if you knew not God; 2. That it be grave, tot gay
 
 airy, or showy ; not in the point of the fashion. And these 
 easy rules may be applied both to the materials whe'reof it 
 is made, and to the manner wherein it is made or put on. 
 
 3. Would you have a farther rule, with respect to both? 
 Then take one which you may always carry in ycur bosom: 
 " Do every thing herein with a single eye ;" and this will 
 direct you in every circumstance. Let a single intention 
 to please God prescribe both what clothing you shall buy, 
 and the manner wherein it shall be made, and how )ou 
 shall put on and wear it. To express the same thing in 
 other words : let all you do, in this respect, be so done, that 
 you may offer it to God, a sacrifice acceptable thro.gh 
 Christ Jesus. So that, consequently, it may increase your 
 reward and brighten your crown in heaven. And so it will 
 do, if it be agreeable to Christian humility, seriousness, 
 and charity. 
 
 4. Shall I be more particular still ? Then I exhort you 
 to wear no gold, no pearls, or precious stones: use no 
 curling of hair, or costly apparel, how grave soever. 1 
 advise those who are able to receive this saying, Buy no 
 superfluities, no mere ornaments, though ever so much in 
 fashion. Wear nothing, though you have it already, which 
 is of a glaring colour, or which is in any kind gay, glisten- 
 ing, or showy : nothing apt to attract the eyes of by-sjand- 
 ers. I do not advise women to wear rings, ear rings, 
 necklaces, lace, (of whatever kind or colour,) or ruffles, 
 which by little and little may easily shoot out from one to 
 twelve inches deep. Neither do I advise men to wear 
 shining stockings, glittering or costly buckles or buttons. 
 
 . It is true, these are little, very little things: therefore they 
 are not worth defending: therefore give them up, let them 
 drop, throw them away, without another word. Else a 
 little needle may cause much pain in the flesh, a little sell 
 riiuulgence much hurt to your soul. 
 
 III. 1. For the preceding exhortation I have the au- 
 thority of God in clear and express terms. " I will that 
 women (and by parity of reason, men too) adorn them- 
 selves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety 
 not with broidered (curled) hair, or gold, or pearls, (one 
 kind of precious stones, which was then most in use, put 
 for all) or costly apparel ; but, which becometh women 
 professing godliness, with good works," 1 Tim ii, 9, 10, 
 Again, " Whose adorning let it not be that ouiward
 
 adorning, of plaiting (curling) the hair, and of wearing of 
 gold, or of putting on of apparel. But let it be the orna- 
 ment of a meek and quiet spirit, which is, in the sight of 
 God, of great price," 1 Pet. iii, 3, 4. Nothing can be 
 more express; the wearing of gold, of precious stones, and 
 of costly apparel, together with curling of hair, is here 
 forbidden by name : nor is there any restriction made, 
 either here or in any other scripture. Whoever therefore 
 says, " There is us harm in these things," may as well 
 say, " There is no harm in stealing or adultery." 
 
 2. There is something peculiarly observable in the man- 
 ner, wherein both St. Peter and St. Paul speak of these 
 things. " Let not your adorning (says St. Peter) be that 
 outward adorning; but let it be the ornament of a meek 
 and quiet spirit." The latter clause is not added barely 
 to fill up the sentence, but with strong and weighty 
 reasons. For there is a direct contrariety (as little as we 
 may suspect it) between that outward and this inward 
 adorning : and that, both with regard to their source, and 
 with regard to their tendency. As to their source, all that 
 adorning springs from nature; a meek and quiet spirit, 
 from grace : the former, from conforming to our own will 
 and the will of man; the latter from conformity to the will 
 of God. And as to their tendency, nothing more directly 
 tends to destroy meekness and quietness of spirit, than all 
 that outward adorning whereby we seek to commend 
 ourselves to men. and not to God. For this cherishes all 
 those passions and tempers which overthrow the quiet of 
 every soul wherein they dwell. 
 
 " Let them adorn themselves," saith St. Paul, " not with 
 curling of hair, or with gold, pearls, or costly apparel, but 
 (which becometh women professing godliness) with good 
 works." The latter clause is here likewise added, for 
 plain and weighty reasons. For, 1. That kind of adorn- 
 ing cannot spring from godliness, from either the love or 
 fear of God, from a desire of conforming to his will, or 
 from the mind which was in Christ Jesus. 2. It no way 
 tends to increase godliness ; it is not conducive to a holy 
 temper. But, 3. It manifestly tends to destroy several of 
 the tempers most essential to godliness. It has no friendly 
 influence on humility; whether we aim at pleasing others 
 or ourselves hereby. Either in one case or the other it 
 will rather increase pride or vanity, than lowliness of heart,
 
 It does not at all minister to the seriousness which becomes 
 a sinner born to die. It is utterly inconsistent with sim- 
 plicity : no one uses it merely to please God. Whoever 
 acts with a single eye, does all things to be seen and 
 approved of God; and can no more dress, than he can 
 pray, or give alms, to be seen of men. 
 
 3. " O ! but one may be as humble in velvet and embroi- 
 dery, as another in sackcloth." True : for a person may 
 wear sackcloth and have no humility at all. The heart 
 may bo rilled with pride and vanity whatever the rai- 
 ment be. 
 
 4. But can you be adorned at the same time with costly 
 apparel and with good works 1 That is, in the same degree 
 as you might have been had you bestowed less cost on 
 your apparel 1 You know this is impossible : the more you 
 expend on the one, the less you have to expend on the 
 other. Costliness of apparel, in every branch, is there- 
 fore immediately, directly, inevitably destructive of good 
 works. You see a brother for whom Christ died, ready 
 to perish for want of needful clothing. You would give 
 it him gladly : but alas ! it is corban, whereby he might 
 have been profited. It is given already, not indeed for the 
 service of God, not to the treasury of the temple ; but 
 either to please the folly of others, or to feed vanity, or 
 the lust of the eye in yourself. Now, (even suppose these 
 were harmless tempers, yet) what an unspeakable loss is 
 this, if it be really true, that " every man shall receive his 
 own reward, according to his own labour !V If there is 
 ind< ed a reward in heaven for every work of faith, for 
 every degree of the labour of love ! 
 
 Secondly. 1. As to the advice subjoined, it is easy to 
 observe that all those smaller things are, in their degree, 
 liable to ihe same objections as the greater. If they are 
 gay, showy, pleasing to the eye, the putting them on does 
 not spring from a single view to please God. It neither 
 flows from nor tends to advance a meek and quiet spirit. 
 It does not arise from, nor any way promote, real, vital 
 godliness. 
 
 2. And if they are in any wise costly, if they are pur- 
 chased with any unnecessary expense, they cannot but, in 
 proportion to that expense, be destructive of good works. 
 Of consequence, they are destructive of that charity, which 
 is fed thereby ; hardening our heart against the cry of the
 
 poor and needy, by inuring us to shut up our bowels of 
 compassion towards them. 
 
 3. At least, all unnecessary expenses of this kind, whether 
 small or great, are senseless and foolish. This we may defy 
 any man living to get over, if he allows there is another 
 world. For there is no reward in heaven for laying out 
 your money in ornaments or costly apparel : whereas you 
 may have an eternal reward for whatever you expend on 
 earth. 
 
 4. Consider this more closely. Here are two ways pro- 
 posed for laying out such a sum of money. I may lay it 
 out in expensive apparel for myself, or in necessary cloth- 
 ing for my neighbour. The former will please my own 
 eye, or that of others : the latter will please God. Now 
 suppose there were no more harm in one than in the other, 
 in that which pleases man than that which pleases God; 
 is there as much good in it 1 If they are equally innocent, 
 are they equally wise ? By the one I gratify the desire of 
 the eye, 'and gain a pleasure that perishes in the using : 
 by the other I gain a larger share of those pleasures that 
 are at God's right hand for evermore. By the former I 
 obtain the applause of men ; by the latter, the praise of 
 God. In this way, I meet with the admiration of fools : 
 in that, I hear from the Judge of all, " Well done, good 
 and faithful servant; enter tliou into the joy of thy Lord!" 
 
 5. Brethren, whatever ye are accounted by men, I 
 would not have you fools in God's account. Walk ye 
 circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise ; not in those ways 
 which God may possibly forgive ; (but to put things in 
 the most favourable light) but in those which he will cer- 
 tainly reward. In wickedness be ye children still ; but in 
 understanding be ye men. I want to see a visible body of 
 people, who are a standing example of this wisdom ; a 
 pattern of doing all things great and small, with an eye 
 to God and eternity. 
 
 IV. 1. But we may be assured the wisdom of the world 
 will find out abundance of objections to this. Accordingly 
 it is objected, first, " If God has given us plentiful fortunes, 
 if v/e are placed in the higher ranks of life, we must act 
 suitably to our fortune. We ought then to dress according 
 to our rank, that is, in gold and costly apparel." Not to 
 insist, that none of you are of this rank, I answer, where 
 is this written? Our Saviour once occasionally said, " Be-
 
 hold, they who wear gorgeous (splendid) apparel are in 
 kings' courts :" but he does not say, they ought to be even 
 there : he neither enjoins nor countenances it. And 
 where is this either enjoined tr,allowed, by him or any of 
 his apostles? Bring me plain scriptural proof for your 
 assertion, or I cannot allow it. 
 
 2. " 'But did not God give express command by Moses, 
 that some even among his chosen people should be adorned 
 in the most exquisite manner with gold and precious stones 
 and costly array?" Indeed he did: he expressly corr^anded 
 this with regard to Aaron and his successors in tu high 
 priesthood. But to this I answer first, this direction which 
 God gave, with regard to the Jewish high priest, can cer- 
 tainly affect no person here. Secondly, the Jews and we 
 are under different dispensations. The glory of the whole 
 Mosaic dispensation was chiefly visible and external : 
 whereas the glory of the Christian dispensation, is of an 
 invisible and spiritual nature. 
 
 3. " But what then are gold and precious stones for 1 
 Why have they a place in the creation 1 What if I say I 
 cannot tell 1 There are abundance of things in the crea- 
 tion which I do not know the use of. What are croco- 
 diles, lions, tigers, scorpions for? Why have so many poi- 
 sons a place in the creation ? Some of them are for medi- 
 cine : but whatever they are for, in whatever manner they 
 may be useful, they are certainly not to be used in such a 
 manner as God has expressly forbidden. 
 
 4. " But if all men were to dress plain, how would 
 tradesmen live 1" I answer, 1. God certainly considered 
 this, or ever he gave these commands. And he would 
 never have given them had he not seen, that, if they were 
 universally observed, men in general would live better than 
 they otherwise could : better in this world, as well as that 
 to come. But, 2. There is no danger at all, that they 
 should be universally observed. Only a little flock in any 
 civilized nation wifl observe them, till the knowledge of 
 God covers the earth. 3. If those who do observe them, 
 employ the money ihey thus save, in the most excellent 
 manner, that part of what before only served to fat a few 
 rich tradesmen for hell, will suffice to feed and clothe and 
 employ many poor, that seek the kingdom of heaven. But 
 it is not this, it is not a regard to trade, or the good of the 
 nation that makes you disobey God. No: it is pride,
 
 ranity, or some other sinful temper, which is the real 
 cause of these sinful actions. 
 
 5. " But we cannot carry on out- own trade, without 
 dressing like other people." 'If you mean only, conform- 
 ing to those customs of your country that are neither gay 
 nor costly, why should you not " dress" like other people V 
 But if you mean " conformity to them in what God Has 
 forbidden," the answer is ready at hand. If you cannot 
 carry on your trade without breaking God's command, 
 you must not carry it on. But I know no trade which 
 may not be carried on, by one who uses plain and modest 
 apparel. I fear you love these things, and therefore think 
 them necessary. Your heart carries away your judgment : 
 If you were not fond of them, you would never dream of 
 their necessity. 
 
 6. In one single case these things may be necessary, 
 that is, unavoidable, namely, that of women who are under 
 the yoke of self willed, unreasonable husbands or parents. 
 Such may be constrained to do in some degree what other- 
 wise they would not. And they are blameless herein, if, 
 1. They use all possible means, arguments, entreaties, to 
 be excused from it ; and when they cannot prevail, 2. Do 
 it just so far as they are constrained, and no farther. 
 
 V. 1. And now, brethren, what remains, but that I be- 
 seech you who are not under the yoke, who are under God, 
 the directors of your own actions, to set prejudice, obstina- 
 cy, fashion aside, and yield to Scripture, to reason, to truth. 
 
 2. You are surrounded with saints of the world, per- 
 sons fashionably, reputably religious. And these are con- 
 stant opposers of all who would go farther in religion than 
 themselves. These are continually warning you against 
 running into extremes, and striving to beguile you from the 
 simplicity of the gospel. You have near you still more dan- 
 gerous enemies than these, Antinomians, who when any 
 Christian practice is enforced, come in with the cuckoo's 
 note, " the law, the law;" and while they themselves glory 
 in their shame, make you ashamed of what should be you* 
 glory. 
 
 3. You have been, and are at this day, in perils among 
 false brethren: I mean, not only those of other congrega- 
 tions, who count strictness all one with bondage: but 
 t many of our own ; in particular these, who were once 
 
 clearly convinced of the ruth: but they have sinned away
 
 that conviction themselves, and now endeavour to harden 
 others against it : at least, by example, by returning again 
 to the folly, from which they were once clean escaped. 
 But what is the example of all mankind when it runs coun- 
 ter to scripture and reason ? 
 
 4. You who have passed the morning, perhaps the noon 
 of life, who find the shadows of the evening approach, set 
 a better example to those that are to come, to the now 
 rising generation. With you the day of life is far spent; 
 the night of death is at hand. You have no time to lose . 
 see that you redeem every moment that remains. Remove 
 every thing out of the way, be it ever so small (though 
 indeed gay or costly apparel is not so) that might any way 
 obstruct your lowliness and meekness, your seriousness ol 
 spirit, your single intention to glorify God, in all your 
 thoughts and words and actions. Let no needless expense 
 hinder your being in the highest degree you possibly can, 
 rich in good works. Ready to distribute, willing to com' 
 municate, till you are clothed with glory and immortality. 
 
 Our carcasses will soon fall into the dust : then let the 
 survivors adorn them with flowers. Meantime let us regard 
 those ornaments only, that will accompany us into eternity. 
 
 5. You that are in the morning of your days, either 
 your form is agreeable, or it is not. If it is not, do not 
 make your person remarkable ; rather let it be hid in com- 
 mon apparel. On every account, it is your wisdom, to 
 recommend yourself to the eye of the mind ; but espe- 
 cially to the eye of God, who reads the secrets of your 
 heart, and in whose sight the incorruptible ornaments 
 alone are of great price. But if you would recommend 
 yourself by dress, is any thing comparable to plain neat- 
 ness 1 What kind of persons are those to whom you could 
 be recommended by gay or costly apparel 1 None that 
 are any way likely to make you happy : this pleases only 
 the silliest and worst of men. At most, it gratifies only 
 the silliest and worst principle in those who are of a nobler 
 character. 
 
 6. To you whom God has intrusted with a more plea- 
 sing form, those ornaments are quite needless. 
 
 " The adorning thee with so much art 
 
 Is but a barbarous skill : 
 Tis like the poisoning of a dart, 
 
 Too apt before to till." 
 77
 
 That is, to express ourselves in plain English, without any 
 figure of poetry, it only tends to drag them faster into 
 death everlasting, who were going fast enough before, by 
 additional provocation to lust, or at least, inordinate affec- 
 tion. Did you actually design to raise either of these in 
 those who looked upon you? What! while you and they 
 were in the more immediate presence of God? What pro- 
 faneness and inhumanity mixt together! But if you de- 
 signed it not, did you not foresee it? You might have done, 
 so, without any extraordinary sagacity. " Nay, I did not 
 care or think about it." And do you say this by way of 
 excuse? You scatter abroad arrows, firebrands, and death; 
 and do not care or think about it ! 
 
 7. Oh let us all walk more charitably and more wisely for 
 the time to come ! Let us all cast aside from this very hour 
 whatever does not become men and women professing 
 godliness: whatever does not spring from the Jove and fear, 
 of God, and minister thereto. Let our seriousness shine 
 before men, not our dress ; let all who see us know that we 
 are not of this world. Let our adorning be that which 
 fadeth not away, even righteousness and true holiness. If 
 ye regard not weakening my hands and grieving my spirit, 
 yet grieve not the Holy Spirit of God. Do you ask, " But 
 what shall I do with the gay or costly apparel, and with 
 the ornaments I have already ? Must I suffer them to be 
 lost ? Ought I not to wear them now I have them ?" I 
 answer, there is no loss like that of using them : wearing 
 them is the greatest loss of all. But what then shalt thou 
 do with them ? Burn them rather than wear them ; throw 
 them into the depth of the sea. Or if thou canst with a 
 clear conscience, sell them, and give the money to them 
 that want. But buy no more at the peril of thy soul. Now 
 be a faithful steward. After providing for those of thine 
 own household things needful for Afe and godliness, feed 
 the hungry, clothe the naked, relieve the sick, the pri- 
 soner, the stranger, with all that thou hast. Then shall 
 God clothe thee with glory arid honour, in the presence of 
 men and angels; and thou shalt " shine as the brightness 
 of the firmament, yea, as the stars for ever and ever." 
 
 77
 
 10 
 
 REMARKS ON THE 
 
 ITIES AND DECENCIES OF PUBLIC WORSHIP, 
 Addressed to the Members of the Methodist Society. 
 
 Dear brethren and sisters in the Lord, 
 
 The following e.ttract from the Methodist Magazine, for tho 
 year 1809, is sincerely recommended to your consideration. 
 
 IT is an important truth which we find in Ecclesiasti- 
 cus, that he who contemneth small things shall fall by lit- 
 tle and little. Hence the final apostasy of those who have 
 made shipwreck of faith and a good conscience, might be 
 traced to such beginnings as many professors would reckon 
 too trifling to notice. Among evils of this sort, infringe- 
 iftfents on the solemnities and decencies of public worship 
 may justly be ranked. These are found, more or less, 
 among all denominations. How many are there, who sel- 
 dom or never make it a point to be present at the begin- 
 ning of public service 1 And who, coming in at the time 
 of solemn prayer, divert the attention and disturb the 
 devotion of those who make it a matter of conscience not 
 to rob God of any part of the small portion of time allotted 
 for his worship 1 Nor is it only during the time of prayer, 
 that the solemnities and decencies of divine worship are 
 disturbed in some places ; but likewise during the course 
 of the sermon. How often have we seen young men 
 and women, who ought to have been taught modesty and 
 sobriety, come into the most conspicuous parts of places 
 of worship ; and by the foppery of their dress, as well as 
 the levity of their manner, draw away the attention of 
 hundreds from the sacred truths to which they had been 
 listening 1 The frequency of such conduct, joined to the 
 little horror which it excites, is a sure proof that the reli- 
 gious education of youth, even among professors of vital 
 religion, is, in general, shamefully neglected. The good 
 old custom of heads of families obliging their children and 
 servants to give some account of the sermons they had 
 heard, being, in general, laid aside ; thousands, under a 
 gospel ministry, grow up to maturity in ignorance of the 
 plan of salvation, and as indifferent to divine things, as if 
 they had never believed in the existence of God, or of their 
 own souls. 
 
 77
 
 11 
 
 The want of punctuality in attending divine worship, 
 will appear the more inexcusable, if we consider, that all 
 the affairs of life not only require, but also receive an exact 
 attention. And is the worship of God to be judged the 
 only thing unworthy of punctual attendance 1 And shall 
 such as act as if they so judged, imagine they have done 
 no evil ? 
 
 The truly pious, if well instructed, when they come to 
 a place of worship before the divine service begins, go to 
 their respective seats ; and after offering up a short prayer 
 to God, in whose presence they consider themselves, sit 
 down recollectedly ; and either silently read a portion of 
 the divine word, or some devotional book; or meditate on 
 such subjects as tend to enable them, with reverence and 
 true devotion, to enter upon the public offices of true reli- 
 gion. But others ; a mixed multitude, collected in little 
 companies, without the church, continue to converse on a 
 variety of subjects, till the very moment public service 
 begins. Hence the beginning of public worship is disturbed 
 by many of those who had sufficient time to be recollectedly 
 in their respective places. 
 
 It has been justly observed, that those who receive much 
 profit under the word, are not disposed, immediately after, 
 to enter into conversation, but retire silently, engaged in 
 inward prayer and meditation. Those who have any 
 tolerable knowledge of inward religion and human nature, 
 need not to be told how favourable serious meditation, for 
 a few minutes after public worship, is, to the fixing in the 
 memory, and imprinting on the heart, the truths that have 
 been delivered. They likewise know, that, several, after 
 being in. some measure affected under the word, have, by 
 trifling conversation, and that immediately after public 
 worship, erased from their minds every serious impression. 
 
 Were the evils and improprieties which I have briefly 
 touched upon, banished from every place in which the 
 pure gospel is preached, and the solemnity and decency 
 essential to proper religious worship, duly attended to; 
 pure religion would appear to more advantage than it does 
 at present, and spread with increasing rapidity through 
 the land.
 
 12 
 
 HYMNS. 
 
 ** Then they that feared the Lord, spake often one to another ; 
 and the Lord hearkened and heard it," Mai. iii, 16. 
 
 1 JESUS, united by thy fear, 
 
 The promised grace we claim, 
 Who commune of thy kingdom here, 
 
 And dwell upon thy name : 
 Thou heark'nest now to every word, 
 
 Thou dost thine ear incline, 
 And hear'st the heart that sighs " My LORD, 
 
 " I would be only thine !" 
 
 2 Present in our assemblies we 
 
 A hidden God adore, 
 Lamenting, till thy face we see, 
 
 And trembling at thy power : 
 Thou know'st our wants, thou read'st our fears, 
 
 Who languish for thy love, 
 And all our sad complaints and tears 
 
 Are register'd above. 
 
 " They shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when 
 I make up my jewels," Mai. iii, 17. 
 
 1 ACCORDING to thy faithful word 
 
 It then shall surely be, 
 Thou wilt remember us, oh Lord, 
 
 Who now remember thee ; 
 To seek, and challenge us for thine, 
 
 Thou wilt from heaven come down, 
 And we around thy hea<l shall shine,, 
 
 As jewels of thy crow:;. 
 
 2 In tcnderest pity to thine own, 
 
 Thou dost thy wrath forbear ; 
 Thine every servant is a son 
 
 Whom thou delight'st to spare: 
 And while our hearts are bow'd to thee, 
 
 Thine easy yoke we prove, 
 And own it perfect liberty 
 
 To serve the God we love. 
 
 PUBLISHED BT N. BANGS AND J. EMORY, 
 
 For the Tract Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, at the Conference 
 Office, 14 Crosby-street, New- York.
 
 NO. 78. 
 CLASS MEETINGS ; 
 
 WAYS AND MEANS OF RENDERING THEM MORE ANIMA- 
 TING AND INSTRUCTIVE. 
 
 IT has been found by various and long experience, thai 
 meetings for Christian fellowship are the best cement of 
 religious society, and have the happiest tendency to pro- 
 mote a right understanding, and preserve a pure affection, 
 among all its members. When the leader is properly quali- 
 fied, and where the people are lively, simple, and open, the 
 btility of these meetings has been found to exceed every 
 thing which has been advanced in their favour. It is not. 
 the limits of a small treatise, but a life of experience that 
 can acquaint us with all their excellence and worth. On 
 the other hand, it must be acknowledged, that where the 
 people are wanting in piety, simplicity, and freedom, the 
 true end of those social means is wholly subverted, and 
 the devotion rendered both tedious and unprofitable. . I 
 shall therefore endeavour to point out the principal of these 
 defects, and to prescribe their remedies. 
 
 1. The leader should be a man of mature and sound 
 experience, and a strict observer of the work of God upon 
 his own soul. He should be well acquainted with all thr 
 ways in which the Lord is pleased to lead and try His 
 people, and with the various effects of grace upon men ot 
 different habits and dispositions. He should also be well 
 acquainted with human nature, both in a moral and reli- 
 gious view ; with the devices of Satan and the artful insi 
 nuations of carnal men. He that would show others the 
 way to heaven, must be thoroughly acquainted with it him- 
 self. A maturity of wisdom and judgment is requisite in 
 the spiritual mariner, who is charged to pilot the inesti- 
 mable soul through the waves and storms, the rocks and 
 shoals of life, where many have sunk or split. 
 
 On the subject of coming close and searching the heart, 
 we have an excellent fragment by the late Mr. C. PER- 
 noN-ET, which is recommended by the Rev. Mr. WESLEY. 
 It here follows in his own words : 
 
 " It is the duty of leaders, 
 
 " 1. To inquire whether they now .believe 1 now enjoy 
 the life of God? Whether they grow herein or decay ? li 
 they decay, what is the cause ? and what the cure ? 
 
 2. Whether they aim at being wholly dr voted to God, 
 r would kcnj> something back T Whether thoy s<
 
 hand in all that befalls them ? And how they bear what 
 he lays upon them ? 
 
 3. Whether they take up their cross daily 1 Resist the 
 bent of nature 1 Oppose self love in all its hidden forms, 
 and discover it through all its disguises 1 
 
 4. Whether they humble, themselves in every thing ? 
 Are willing to be blamed and despised for well doing ? 
 Account it the greatest honour that Christ appoints them 
 to walk with himself, in paths that are peculiarly /'* own ? 
 
 5. Whether they can cordially love those that despite- 
 fully use them? Justify the ways of God in thus dealing 
 with them ? And in all they suffer, seek the destruction of 
 inward idolatry and impatience 1 How they conquer, self 
 will in all its spiritual forms 1 See through ail its disguises, 
 seeking itself, when it pretends to seek nothing but the 
 glory of God I 
 
 6. Whether they are simple, open, free, and without 
 reserve in speaking 7 And see it their duty and privilege 
 so -to be? 
 
 7. To inquire concerning prayer, the answers to prayer, 
 faith in Christ, distrust of themselves, consciousness oi' 
 their own vileness and nothingness? 
 
 8. How they improve their talents? What zeal they 
 have for doing good in all they do, or suffer, or receive 
 from God? Whether they live above it, making Christ 
 their all, and offering up to God nothing for acceptance, 
 but his life and death ? 
 
 9. Whether they have a clear, full, abiding conviction, ~~~ 
 that without inward, complete, universal holiness, no man 
 shall see the Lord ? That Christ was sacrificed for us, 
 that we might be a whole burnt sacrifice to God; and 
 that having received the Lord Jesus Christ will profit us 
 nothing, unless we steadily and uniformly walk in Him." 
 
 As this is a duty to which I am afraid not more than 
 half of our leaders are equal: and as the experience of an 
 individual will be mostly inadequate to enable him to 
 nidge and advise in the numerous cases of a whole class. 
 ne should, by reading the lives of good men, acquaint 
 himself with experience in general. The Metfiodist 
 Magazine is admirably adapted .to furnish the mind with 
 this kind of knowledge, After he is well informed con- 
 'fcerriing these writings, he may safely proceed to the expe- 
 rience of Christians of other denominations, and be capa- 
 ble to judge of their comparative merit. In readingf 
 
 V *'
 
 Christian experience, he should particularly remark their 
 distresses, trials, and temptations, and the manner of their 
 deliverance; where they erred, and where they are worthy 
 of imitation. But especially, he should be conversant in 
 the Holy Scriptures. The precepts, promises, threaten* 
 ings, and the occasions on which they were given, he 
 should clearly understand and familiarly remember. He 
 will then comfort according to the fulness of the gospel, 
 or caution with prudence and authority. He will' restore 
 the fallen, instruct the ignorant, and strengthen the weak. 
 He will consider the class as his spiritual family, and next 
 to their immediate pastors, be their dearest friend on earth, 
 
 II. It is requisite also, that the people be open, lively, 
 and affectionate. And, indeed, a profession of religion 
 without the life and love of God in our heart, is a poor 
 and empty thing. As it is the nature and design of 
 Christianity to purify the soul from sin, and restore it to 
 the image and favour of its Maker, we should on no 
 account fall short of the hope of our calling. The gain 
 of the whole world is insufficient to compensate for the 
 loss of one smile from our heavenly Father. Whatever 
 company or affairs we are engaged with, we should be 
 careful to maintain communion with God ; that we may 
 " rejoice evermore, pray without ceasing, and in every 
 thing give thanks ;" that the great law of the new cove- 
 nant may be written on our hearts, " I will be your God, 
 and ye shall be my people." 
 
 Those who live, or endeavour to live in this happy state, 
 have always something to speak in their class, which is 
 animating and instructive, and the people hang upon their 
 lips for edification and comfort. By living in the divine 
 presence they acquire a calmness and composure of mind. 
 which raise them above the fear of man, and above the 
 hurry and flutter which the timid often find in speaking. 
 They relate the blessed opportunities they have had in 
 public or private devotion, their temptations and trials, 
 their faults and comforts, with all that case and freedom 
 which mark an humble and devoted mind. They never 
 make the meeting tedious and dull by a repetition of the 
 same things from week to week : by using little else but 
 common place terms, or affecting the style and manner of 
 others. To do so is sure to produce an unpleasant effect, 
 and indicates the soul to be in a slothful and lukewarm 
 state ; or that what we say is not our own, but Iw
 
 from others. Their experience is always interesting, origi- 
 nal, and new; because it is impossible the Lord should 
 forget them for a whole week, or even for a single moment : 
 and the reputation and respect they acquire among their 
 brethren, is that of fathers and pillars in the church of God. 
 
 III. Though this be the privilege of all the children of 
 God ; yet it is enjoyed by a very few only. Many of those 
 that once ran well have fallen from their steadfastness, 
 and left their first love. It is true, at intervals they still 
 enjoy the favour and smiles of God ; but in the general, 
 their hearts are so engrossed with the snares of company, 
 and the cares of this life, as to have little time for recol- 
 lection and prayer. While all is prosperous in their affairs, 
 and pleasing in their connections, they are social and 
 amiable in their tempers ; but when their will is opposed, 
 and their wishes are thwarted, they are: angry, peevish, 
 and fretful as other men, and the difference between their 
 present and their unconverted state, is far from being so 
 great as might have been expected. Thus they bear the 
 crosses, and endure the fatigues of religion, without re- 
 ceiving any lasting sense of its comfort and peace. 
 
 Some of these are endowed with humility enough to 
 relate the whole of their state, and aim at nothing in 
 speaking, but to give others the same ideas of their expe- 
 rience which they themselves entertain. They complain 
 of their depravity and temptations without reserve ; and 
 freely acknowledge that all their supineness and sterility 
 do not originate through the want of grace, but from the 
 neglect of using it. Now, though we are under the 
 necessity of warning them against resting here, lest God 
 should suffer them to fall into greater sins ; yet we cannot, 
 but a-dmire their honesty in drawing so just a portrait of 
 their own heart. As the voice of nature and truth is 
 known when it is heard ; and as little children win their 
 parents' affections by their artless tales, so are we always 
 delighted when we hear a real and original account of a 
 brother's experience. It is valuable information to be 
 acquainted with the nature and strength of our adversa- 
 ries ; and to view in the wrestlings and conflicts of so 
 many people, what every Christian is to expect, not only 
 with flesh and blood, but with the principalities and 
 powers of darkness. 
 
 IV. It is fear and shame, pride and temptation, which 
 obstruct the freedom of many who find themselves in a 
 
 73
 
 cold and lukewarm state. Because they cannot speak as 
 favourably of their state as they would, they are unwilling 
 to sj>eak at all, or when they do, it is mostly in negatives 
 and evasions. Take the following as a specimen, " I 
 don't find my mind as I could wish I am not going for- 
 ward and making that progress in the divine life which I 
 ought to do." All this is undoubtedly true ; and yet, to 
 put the fairest construction upon it, it is but one degree 
 better than total silence ; for we can neither edify by 
 hearing what they say, nor give them just and proper 
 advice. Others, again, either through habit, depression 
 of mind, or false delicacy, speak so low as not to be heard, 
 which occasions extreme pain to all the class, and utterly 
 frustrates the design of the meeting. They should by 
 all means endeavour to speak here, iu the same clear and 
 distinct manner as they do in ordinary conversation. 
 
 It were, indeed, much to be wished, that all who find 
 their evidence beclouded, or their comforts withdrawn, 
 would be more diligent to inquire into the several causes, 
 and more ingenuous in making them known. Should the 
 Holy Spirit withdraw his comforts or hide his face, it irf 
 for some apparent cause. We must have grieved him, 
 either by unbelieving reasonings and fears, which bring 
 darkness and disquietude on the mind, though not a sense 
 of guilt; by wicked and evil tempers, which are ever 
 attended with shame and remorse ; or by vain and wan- 
 dering thoughts, which deprive us of all communion with 
 God, and evince our hearts to be the wretched source of 
 all imaginary folly and vice. It evidences a lar-t 
 of wisdom when we are able to trace distinctly th. 
 causes of our desertion, and an equal degn 
 when we are as willing to communicate them for'we good 
 of others. 
 
 When Satan has tempted us to any particular sin, or 
 overcome us by any of the aforesaid evils, he tempts us 
 also to conceal it; because he is well aware that the works 
 of darkness are unable to bear the light, and that speaking 
 of our temptations is the surest way to subdue them, lie 
 suggests tjiat our distresses are more deplorable, and our 
 sins more heinous, than those of other men ; that if we 
 discover the whole of our unfaithfulness, we shall be con- 
 sidered as unfit for religious society. And every man 
 being better acquainted with his own heart than with any 
 other, we are but too apt to believe him. Thus it in partly
 
 through temptation, and partly through the prevalence of 
 haughty reasoning, that people are so frequently induced 
 to give an unfair and partial account of tiieir experience. 
 They speak freely enough of the goodness and mercy of 
 God ; but they hide, or merely hint in a dark and obscure 
 manner, whatever is disagreeable and worthy of blame j 
 and their weekly testimony amounts to no more than an 
 illusive fragment, instead of a plain and just account. 
 
 V. When the leader perceives this to be the case, he 
 should in a tender and prudent way, press them to speak 
 with more freedom, and give a clearer account of their 
 experience. He should instruct them better concerning 
 the duties of union and fellowship, which are mutually 
 owed in the church of God: that we ought to afford every 
 help to one another, which man can gi\ r e to man. In a 
 society, which is numerous, we cannot be intimate and 
 acquainted with all. It is farther remarked, that as the 
 conversation is confined to the state of the soul, and no 
 one allowed to divulge it elsewhere; as nothing is said 
 with regard to family or private concerns, there can be no 
 just cause for our restraint and want of freedom. If we 
 suffer from delicate circumstances, we may speak of being 
 tried without entering into particulars, and the brethren 
 will feelingly pray for our deliverance and comfort. But 
 if we have backslidden in heart, if we are tempted by 
 Satan, or tried by our inward corruptions, it ought to be 
 communicated without evasion and without reserve. 
 
 VI. It may here be observed, that many very serious 
 people are unable to speak their experience with the same 
 case and freedom, as those who are endowed with a better 
 elocution. And it ought to be observed for their comfort. 
 that it is simplicity and truth, not studied speech we expect 
 in the class. We expect to hear what God hath done for- 
 their souls, and to hear it in a plain and unstudied manner 
 Perhaps none succeed better in speaking their experi- 
 ence than colliers and other illiterate people who live in 
 the country villages. As few of those could read before 
 their conversion ; and as they are unacquainted with the 
 ordinary phrases and language in which more intelligent 
 Christians speak ; their manner is altogether new and 
 peculiar to themselves. They relate as well as they can, 
 the sinfulness and misery of their former lives ; how they 
 heard, and how they received the gospel ; what they suf- 
 fered under "conviction for sin : how the promises were
 
 applied, and the love of God shed abroad in their .. 
 Their manner is distinguished by a certain boldness which 
 strongly evinces that they feel what they speak. And thr 
 whole of their narrative is so ingenuous and incapable o!' 
 art, as cannot fail to interest arid entertain the most 
 enlightened believer. 
 
 Moreover, they furnish us with a decisive argument in 
 favour of vital Christianity. Would we discover its native 
 beauty and power ; would we triumph over skepticism, 
 and be completely established in the faith, let us go to the 
 school of these innocent people, who are taught of God. 
 They know nothing of the learned arguments by which 
 we prove the authenticity of the Scriptures; but they know 
 that they are true, because they have felt the force of the 
 threatenings, and tasted the sweetness of the promises : 
 they cannot vindicate the miracles and defend the god- 
 head of Christ ; but they know that he is glorified with 
 the Father, because he has given them the Comforter. 
 They cannot contend for the divine authority of the 
 Christian faith ; but they know that it is from Heaven, 
 because he hath raised their souls from a sensual life, and 
 ennobled them with the image and presence of God. 
 
 To conclude, as mutual communion lays open a \vor!d 
 of experience, and displays the kingdom of God in the 
 heart ; few objections will be made against it by serious 
 people, but such as are obviated in the course of the 
 work; and the objections of carnal professors are avowedly 
 neglected. This is not the cane, I am sorry to add, with 
 the members of those meetings Serious or supposed 
 objections are frequently made against some of their moral 
 characters. But happily, where discipline is preserve/!, 
 they are not too great for charity to forgive, or candour to 
 surmount. Because, all who obstinately offend are put 
 away, and those that are penitent we are enjoined to for- 
 give, under the penalty of not being forgiven. Tho>c, 
 who are little more than theorists in a life of practical 
 piety, promise themselves, that whenever they unite with 
 a religious body, their piety shall be sincere, and their 
 characters irreproachable : but whether their performance 
 will equal their promises, time alone can determine. 
 When they review the amiable example of Jesus Christ. 
 as holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners ; 
 who hath left us an example, that we should tread in hi.-: 
 gten?, and walk as lie alrfi vil^d ; when they consider
 
 8 
 
 the purity and love of the primitive church ; the heroic 
 failh of the fathers and elders, confessors and martyrs, 
 who preferred death to a life spotted by a single sin > 
 they lose all patience with modern Christians whose piety 
 is defective. Maturer reflection will, however, convince 
 them, that it is unfair to judge of the ancients by their 
 splendid virtue, and of the moderns by their numerous 
 faults. The primitive church, as well as the present, 
 laboured under many disagreeable circumstances, which 
 were causes of offence and stumbling to many, and of 
 heresy and schism to others. It is much nearer the truth 
 to view the religious world in the middle state, by con- 
 sidering what they were before they were called, and what 
 they will be at God's right hand, \\~\\enprescntcd faultless 
 /n'CKcnce cf his glory, with exceeding joy. In 
 their present state, many are but half convinced of sin, 
 o:hers have not received a sense of pardon and peace. 
 Many who have been converted are weak and unsteady; 
 and the number ef those who enjoy the pure and perfect 
 love of God, is extremely few. What, therefore, can be 
 expected but frequent falls and hard conflicts from a pco- 
 pie who are but. just rising out of their sinful and misera- 
 ble state, into the life and image of God. ft is verily the 
 duty of all t serious people to unite with some religious 
 connection, notwithstanding its defects ; and if they are 
 possessed of superior wisdom or talent, to employ the 
 whole for the edifying of the body. Jesus Christ hath 
 set them an example, and they cannot find a better mode!. 
 I beseech all such, by the worth of their souls, and the 
 price of their salvation, cordially to unite in church fel- 
 lowship, and in the use of every mean of grace. It is a 
 divine command, and if we neglect or refuse to comply, 
 we cannot expect that God will give us grace to be warm 
 alone, or singly to stand against the combinations of our 
 foes. It is far better to draw a veil over the brethren's 
 infirmities, or like the good Samaritan, to pour oil into 
 \heir wounds, than barely to look on and pass by as the 
 Levite and priest. " Blessed is that servant whom his 
 Lord, when he cometh, shall find so doing.; verily I say 
 unto you, he will make him ruler over all that he hath." 
 
 PUBLISHED BY N. BANGS AND 3. EMORT. 
 
 For the TVact Society of ()>e Methodist Episcopal Church.'a 
 Office, 14 Crosby-street, New-York.
 
 NO. 79. 
 
 FRANCIS' DREAM. 
 
 BY JAKE TAYLOR. 
 
 IN one corner of a dark warehouse, at the back of a 
 dark house, in the midst of a dark street in London, a 
 little apprentice boy one day seated himself on a bale of 
 dusty goods, and fell asleep. Poor Francis (that was his 
 name) was not at this time very happy in his mind; 
 though, had he known a little more of life, he would have 
 seen'much greater reason to be contented with his cir- 
 cumstances Than he now did. He had been brought up, 
 in the country, perhaps too tenderly, by a very fond mo- 
 ther, a widow- She died and then he was bound ap- 
 prentice, by the assistance of his relations, to a tradesman. 
 Francis fancied he was treated with little kindness m liis 
 master's family : perhaps this partly arose from his igno- 
 rance of the world, arid mistaken ideas of what may rea- 
 sonably be expected from those we have to do with. Being 
 quite unaccustomed to the prompt and brisk d*patcfi of 
 London business, he felt, at first, bewildered and discour- 
 aged bv the smart orders he received, and the Mnct atten- 
 tion to them that was required; and he saw no one around 
 him whose counsel he could ask, much ess whose sympa- 
 thy he could invite; for he was but a little boy an.1 the 
 tail laos and smart young men who brushed past him hfty 
 ti-nc- in a day up and down the long shop, took no other 
 notice of Francis than scolding him when they wen. cross, 
 and lauding at him when they were merry. It was 01
 
 afternoon, after having been employed all the preceding 
 part of the day in the warehouse, that Francis, fatigued 
 and melancholy, fell asleep, as before related. Joy and 
 hope keep youthful eye lids open, but the disquieted yield 
 readily to sleep. 
 
 Francis' dream in the earlier part of it, was (like dreams 
 in general) too indistinct and unconnected to be at all 
 worthy of record; but it gradually became more rational, 
 and as well as he can remember, it was to this effect: 
 He thought that he was to leave the warehouse ; but upon 
 entering the long passage that led to the front of the 
 house, it appeared so unusually dark that he shrunk back, 
 and would have returned, but something compelled him 
 to proceed. At every step he thought the darkness in- 
 creased, and the passage became so extremely narrow 
 that he could with difficulty creep along upon his hands 
 and knees. It was also exceedingly cold, and Francis 
 experienced a horror altogether indescribable. The pas- 
 sage too seemed to lengthen as he proceeded, and he 
 began to despair of reaching the end, when a dim and 
 distant light suddenly discovered it to hjm. As he ad- 
 vanced he found that the light proceeded from the crevices 
 of the door at the end of the passage : and it now seemed 
 as if the apartment within must be illumined with some- 
 thing brighter than sun beams. When at length he reach- 
 ed the door, he perceived that it was fastened with bars 
 of massy iron, and exhausted as he was, he despaired of 
 being able to force it open ; but to his great and joyful 
 surprise, it gently unfolded itself, and he entered. And 
 now instead of the dull apartment he was accustomed to 
 see, he found himself at the extremity of a widely extend- 
 ed lawn, from which arose a spacious and magnificent 
 palace. Noble avenues spicy groves beds of flowers, 
 and bowers of roses cooling rivulets, and sparkling cas- 
 cades all shining beneath a cloudless sky, presented 
 themselves to his delighted view. While he was gazing 
 on this agreeable scene, several persons of extraordinary 
 grace and beauty, respectfully approached him, and with 
 smiles of complacency informed him that he was the sole-- 
 proprietor of this fine estate ; whereupon they conducted 
 him to the interior of the palace, which appeared furnish- 
 ed with every thing to gratify his utmost wishes; and 
 where he found himself surrounded with a chosen circle 
 
 79
 
 of intelligent and affectionate friends, who vied with each 
 other in promoting his ease and felicity. But-there was 
 something beside all this, which it is impossible for lan- 
 guage to express. Over the scenery of a pleasing dream 
 there is spread a rich glow of colouring, an air of enchant- 
 ment, so unlike the tints and aspect of this world, that 
 they seem as if designed to form a contrast with the dul- 
 ness of the brightest reality. Dreams represent things 
 pieseni, as hope does the future, and memory the past. 
 Such Francis now beheld : it was enchanted ground ; sur- 
 passing even the visions of youthful fancy. The radiant 
 suushine, the richness of the extended prospect, the hills 
 of pearl and gold that glowed in the distance, the oriental 
 magnificence of the palace, above all, the refined and 
 romantic intercourse he enjoyed with his companions, 
 excited in his bosom thrills of indescribable ecstacy. A 
 milk white steed richly caparisoned, was now led up, oa 
 which he was about to survey the distant parts of his 
 estate; but which in the tantalizing spirit of a dream, he 
 made repeated and ineffectual efforts to mount : with his 
 foot in the stirrup, and no visible impediment, something 
 constantly retarded him as often as he endeavoured to 
 rise. At length, just as he wa? resolving to give one ef- 
 fectual spring, the rattling of a mail coach that drove 
 furiously through a narrow street, with the piercing notes 
 of the guards' horn, suddenly awaked him, and it being 
 now dark, the lamps flashing as they passed, on the ceil- 
 ing and lumber of the warehouse, perfectly restored him 
 to his recollection. Who has not experienced the blank- 
 ness of awaking from a dream of ecstacy, to the dull real- 
 ity of present circumstances 1 No wonder that Francis 
 returned to hie- employments with a deeper feeling of the 
 joylcssness of his situation. For several days the impres- 
 sion of his dream remained so strongly on his imagination, 
 that he began to think it must be interpreted in favour of 
 his future fortune. 
 
 There was an old porter, called Stephen, much esteem- 
 ed for his sobriety and fidelity, who had served many years 
 in this business. His good natured look, and obliging 
 manner, often attracted the attention of Francis; and 
 happening one day soon after this to be sent to him oa 
 some business in the cellars, where Stephen was generally 
 employed, he entered into conversation with him ; and in
 
 hopes of a flattering interpretation, presently related his 
 
 dream. 
 
 . " Well, master Francis," said the old porter, when he 
 
 had finished, " there is nothing in all this but what you 
 
 may one day come to, if you do but go the right way to 
 
 work for it." 
 
 " Indeed ! are you in earnest ?" said Francis, " Ah ! I 
 suppose you think I have rich relations: but do you know 
 my old friend, (for I don't mind speaking to you, because 
 you look good natured,) that though I am apprenticed to 
 this great business, I am but a poor boy ; for I have no 
 father, nor mother neither, now ; nor any fortune of my 
 own, so that it is very unlikely, is it not, that I should 
 ever come to a fine estate ?" 
 
 " Not more unlikely than that I should," replied the 
 porter, " and do you know, young master, I have good 
 expectations of as great things, and greater too, than any 
 you saw in your dream." 
 
 Here Francis expressed his surprise ; and with a look 
 of incredulity requested an explanation. Whereupon the 
 old porter said thtvt if he would not believe him, h? would 
 show him the title deeds of his estate ; and reaching an 
 old brown book from a shelf where he always kept it, and 
 putting on his spectacles, he presently pointed Francis to 
 a part which he desired -him to read. The words were 
 these : " In my Father's house are many mansions ; I go 
 to prepare a place for you." 
 
 "Dear !" said Francis, " that is only a text in the Bible: 
 do you think I never read that before 1 you are joking 
 with me, I fancy." 
 
 " Oh no, my dear, I am quite serious," said the porter, 
 "and if you, will have patience to hear me, I'll tell you 
 what I mean. I was but a lad, very little older than yon 
 are, when it pleased God to convince me that if I should 
 gain the whole world, and lose my soul, it would profit me 
 nothing. I saw that it would be the most imprudent, dan- 
 gerous, and desperate conduct, to enjoy any peace in this 
 world, until I had a well founded hope of being happy to 
 all eternity. And I wondered much, (and so I do still,) 
 that all reasonable persons did not think the same. So 
 after suffering a great deal of pain and trouble of mind, I 
 was at last convinced that as the Lord Jesus Christ came 
 into the world to save sinners, and as he commands every 
 
 79
 
 one who hears of it to believe this and be saved, that I, 
 a poor unworthy lad as I was, might come to him, and 
 that he would not cast me out. So I believed that he 
 would save me from my sins, and that he would give me, 
 yes, even to me, everlasting life. Oh ! it is a wonderful 
 thing ! bat as God has promised it, who am I that I should 
 dare to doubt it? Well, sir, from that time to this, I have 
 gone on my way rejoicing. It is true I have had to work 
 hard, and sometimes to fare hard, year after year; and as 
 to the groat things of this world, I have had nothing to do 
 with them : but then, I often think to myself, when I am 
 at work in this cellar, and hear the chariots rolling away 
 in the street above, What does that signify? It is but 
 waiting a few years, and, if I do but persevere in the good 
 ways of God, what great things will be mine ! Why, sir, 
 God himself hath assured us, that there is nothing in this 
 world to be compared with what is preparing for them 
 that love him. Think what one of these mansions will 
 be, that Jesus is gone to make ready : and, to refer to the 
 similitude of your dream, there is but one dark and cold 
 passage to pass before I enter on my heavenly inherit- 
 ance. Oh ! master Francis, never be fretting yourself 
 because you are not likely to come to such a fine estate, 
 in this world, as you saw in your dream ; but rejoice to 
 think that there is something beyond all compare better, 
 God will give you, if you do but ask, him for it; and for- 
 asmuch as there was that, so rare and beautiful, in the 
 things you beheld, as you can in no wise express ; so it 
 seems to me to set forth something of that glory of which 
 the Scripture saith, that eye hath not seen it, nor ear 
 heard, neither can the heart of man conceive thereof.' " 
 
 Now, as Francis had not been in the habit of hearing 
 much on the subject of religion, he was the more struck 
 with this discourse of the old porter. Especially he no- 
 ticed the lively joy that he manifested in his look and 
 manner, at the prospect of future happiness : for it was 
 not mere talk with this good man : he really felt the un- 
 speakable joy, arising from a good hope of his soon being 
 in heaven. And he was. most sincere in saying, that he ac- 
 counted all the good and great things of this world, as less 
 than nothing in comparison of " an eternal weight of glory :" 
 and oh, how strange, that every one is not of his opinion ! 
 
 Francis and his old frierM had many conversations
 
 after this, on the same subject. Well would it be 
 refined and high discourse were more frequently held in 
 splendid drawing rooms, as that which often passed in the 
 dark cellar. The result was unspeakably advantageous 
 to young Francis. His mind was relieved from a weight 
 of anxiety ; and his spirits rose above their depression, as 
 soon as he began to perceive that his real and ultimate 
 happiness did not in the least depend on his condition in 
 this world, or on any of its contingencies. He reflected 
 with sensations of almost overwhelming delight, that 
 boundless, endless, and even present felicity, was freely 
 offered to his choice in the good news of the gospel. 
 And as, (most happily for him,) he had no " great posses- 
 sions" to distract his choice, he did not " turn away sor- 
 rowful ;" but joyfully, thankfully, accepted of LIFE and 
 HAPPINESS. Thus without fertune, without friends, with- 
 out any of those things which are sought after with such 
 unceasing avidity, by the men, and women, and children 
 of this world, and to the attainment of which such tre- 
 mendous sacrifices are made, this happy young person 
 found himself possessed of all wealth in the unsearchable 
 riches of Christ. 
 
 PLEASING ACCOUNT OF A GIRL WHO WAS A SCHOLAR IN 
 THE MAZE POND SUNDAY SCHOOL. 
 
 WHEN I was at Worthing, a short time since, I was re- 
 quested to go and see a pious young woman, whose afflicted 
 situation had excited much commiseration. She had, it 
 seems, through the brutal conduct of a mistress with whom 
 she lived, been rendered not only incapable of labour, but 
 unable either to stand or sit; a blow which she had re- 
 ceived on the back had so injured the spine, as to render 
 it necessary to keep her in a horizontal posture, and in 
 that very affecting situation she has been more than six 
 years. I was accompanied by the Rev. Mr. Watkins, the 
 rector of St. Swithin's, London Stone, who had often seen 
 her before ; we found her in a very happy frame of miud, 
 and enjoying much of the consolation to be derived only 
 from the gospel ; it was evident that she had been taught 
 by the Holy Spirit to know the things that belong to her 
 peace, and, to rejoice in Christ as her Saviour what sur- 
 prised me most was the enlarged acquaintance which she 
 had \v ; th the Scriptures ; ^think I scarcely ever met with
 
 o young a person (for she was only twenty one or twenty 
 two) who possessed so much Bible knowledge : I confess 
 my mind was edified and delighted, and encournge.d by 
 what I heard from her lips. In the course of the con- 
 versation which I had with her, I inquired how her mind 
 first became impressed with the importance of religion ; 
 when she informed me that her first religious impressions 
 were received in a Sunday school in London. 
 
 I theri asked in what manner ; to this she replied, that 
 many of the hymns which she learnt there were fixed in 
 her memory, and were of great advantage to her, and the 
 advice of the teachers, and especially of one of the gen- 
 tlemen who used to come and speak to the children in the 
 evening: " I was not long in the school," she said, "only 
 six or eight months, but when I left it, this impression was 
 fixed on my mind, that there were but two classes of per- 
 sons in the world ; those who were the friends of God, 
 and those who were his enemies; and I was led to put up 
 this prayer to the Lord, that he would show me the way 
 of salvation, and bring me into the number of his friends." 
 
 Having myself a knowledge of some of the persons con- 
 nected with the scliool to which she referred, I asked her 
 if she could tell mo the names of those who were e 
 as teachers in the school when she belonged to it ; she 
 replied, "It is so long ago (about eight years) that I can't 
 recollect the names of all, but there are two that I remem- 
 ber, one female and one male teacher;" of these two indi- 
 viduals she spoke with great feeling. It will be gratifying 
 to you to know that the school was no other than Maze 
 Pond School. 
 
 SCENES OF THE CRUCIFIXION. 
 
 The moon was shining yet. The Orient's brow, 
 
 Set with the morning star was not yet dim ; 
 
 And the deep silence which subdues the breath 
 
 Like a strong feeling, hung upon the world 
 
 As sleep upon the pulses of a child. 
 
 'Twas the last watch of night. Gethst mane, 
 
 With its bathed leaves of silver, seemed dissolved 
 
 In visible stillness, and as Jesus' voice, 
 
 With its bewildering sweetness, met the ear 
 
 Of his disciples, it vibrated 
 
 Like the first whisper in a siluit world.
 
 They <yime on slowly. Heaviness oppressed 
 
 The Saviour's heart and when the kindnesses 
 
 Of his deep love were poured, he felt the need 
 
 Of near communion for his gift of strength 
 
 Was wasted by the spirit's weariness. 
 
 He left them there, and went a little on 
 
 And, in the depth of that hushed silentness^ 
 
 Alone with God, ha fell upon his face, 
 
 And as his heart was broken with the rush 
 
 Of his surprising agony, and death, 
 
 v/rung to him from a dying universe, 
 
 Were mightier than the Son of man could bear, 
 
 He gave his sorrows way, and in the deep 
 
 Frustration of his soul breathed out the prayer, 
 
 (C father, if it be possible with thee, 
 
 Let this cup pass from me." Oh, how a word, 
 
 Like the forced drop before the fountain breaks, 
 
 Stilleth the press of human agony ! 
 
 The Saviour felt its quiet in his soul ; 
 
 And though his strength was weakness, and the light 
 
 Which led him on till now was sorely dim, 
 
 He breathed a new submission " Not my will, 
 
 But thine be done, ch Father !" As he spoke, 
 
 Voices were heard in heaven, and music stole 
 
 Out from the chambers of the vaulted sky, 
 
 As if the stars were swept like instruments. 
 
 No cloud was visible, but radiant wings 
 
 Were coming with a silvery rush to earth 
 
 And, as the Saviour lose, a glorious one, 
 
 With an illumined forehead, and the light 
 
 Whose fountain is the mystery of God, 
 
 Encalmed within his eye, bowed down to him, 
 
 And nerved him with a ministry of strength. 
 
 It was enough, and with his godlike brow 
 
 Re-written of his Father's messenger, 
 
 With meekness, whose divinity is more 
 
 Than power and glory, he returned again 
 
 To his disciples, and awaked their sleep, 
 
 For " he that should betray him was at hand." 
 
 PUELJSHEJD BY N. BANGS AND J. F.MO'.U, 
 for the Tract Society of tin- Methodist Episcopal Church, at the Co';; 
 Office, 14 Crosby-.-treet, New-York. 
 .liar Hiiyt, Printer. 
 
 79
 
 170. 80. 
 
 PARLOUR RELIGION EXEMPLIFIED, 
 
 IN THE PRACTICE OF FREDERICK, HIS FAMILY, AND FRIENDS. 
 
 TIIOSE to whom the Lord has given plenty of the good 
 things of this world, have it in their power to anticipate 
 something of the employments and enjoyments of heaven, 
 so far as the imperfections of the present state will admit; 
 for they have all things richly to enjoy ; they may choose 
 their company, their time, and entertainments, and in all 
 things follow the pious dispositions of their hearts. 'Tis 
 a happiness for a religious person to visit, or to be in a 
 house, that has a good man at its head such a house as 
 that of Frederick. 
 
 In the morning the parlour is decently prepared, and 
 warmed for the reception of the pious family, who come 
 from their chambers smiling with gratitude to God, and 
 good humoured with their diligent domestics. 
 
 The younger children during infancy are in the n 
 and every thing that might interrupt, is prohibited from 
 entering the parlour, which is at this time as a chapeLfiwr 
 devotion. The clock having struck tl: 11 hoar, 
 
 Frederick and his beloved wilt- arr; snatcd, with i : 
 of God before them : the servants enter with looks 
 sivq d' (he happiness they feel, in having tho ; I 
 i" being God's freemen. ,ind joining th 
 tress in his service. Umi. 
 song of praise to God for his mercies is
 
 primitive church, and a portion of Scripture is read, that 
 their minds may become more familiarly acquainted with 
 the sacred oracles. This being do'ne, they all bow their 
 knees to Him hy whom the whole family in heaven and 
 earth is named, and the good man calls upon his Lord 
 and Master in heaven, with expressions of profound hom- 
 age and humility ; blessing him for the favours of the 
 past night, and the pleasure of seeing the light of the re- 
 turning day. Like the great High Priest he bears on his 
 heart all his family before God, and entreats for particular 
 mercies ascording to the known state of his household, 
 and puts himself and all his affairs, both temporal and 
 spiritual, into the hands of his heavenly Father. He then 
 gives them his benediction, and they all arise. The happy 
 servants cheered and warmed with the aids of devotion, 
 return to their duty each according to his place, and the 
 family with guests (if such are present) sit down to break- 
 fast on the overflowing bounty of God's providence. 
 
 Business or works of piety perhaps call the master of 
 the house away, and the mistress, having given her direc- 
 tions in her family, takes her usual seat and employment 
 in her parlour. The Bible is laid near her to be referred 
 to as her best director, her richest cordial in trouble, and 
 most faithful monitor in all doubtful cases. Nor is she 
 fearful that any visiter should find her with this compa- 
 nion, for she desires no company but those who love the 
 Scriptures. She is rather of the sentiment of a well 
 known female, who brought her family Bible into her par- 
 lour, and laying it on the table, said, Lie there thou best 
 of books, and keep thou thy place whoever comes in. A 
 pious visiter or two, or a minister of Christ, drops in per- 
 haps in the forenoon. If so, the time is not wasted in 
 unprofitable talk* but the place is honoured by beiiii; 
 changed into the similitude of the holy mount. The 
 heavenly woman and her guests enter into discourse, as 
 Moses and Elias did, on what once passed at Jerusalem, 
 when Jesus gave his life a ransom for many ; and their 
 experience so confirms their interest in that work of love, 
 that their hearts burn within them, and like St. Peter, 
 they find it good to be there. 
 
 The hour to dine being come, Frederick returns, and 
 probably brings a religious friend or two to his hospitable 
 mansion. The table being spread with plenty, without
 
 ostentation the provision is sanctified by the prayer of 
 Frederick, penetrated with a sense of having forfeited 
 every thing by sin ; but having recovered all by the merit 
 of his great Saviour, a remembrance of whose love makes 
 every thing more sweet and refreshing. Having used, 
 but not abused, the bounties of Providence, grateful ac- 
 knowledgments are returned to the great Giver of every 
 good gift; and the pious few mingle profitable discourse 
 with their wine, or concert some plan for supplying the 
 wants of those who are in distressing circumstances. 
 Towards evening, a select company grace the tea table; 
 and the interests of the gospel, with the best means of 
 spreading its influence aroand them, become the subject 
 of their conversation. Should national affairs happen to 
 be introduced, they express their loyalty to their country, 
 and their thankfulness to God, for the many invaluable 
 privileges enjoyed by their nation. The hour of parting 
 being come, the praises of God introduce the devotion of 
 the evening, in which, as in the morning, the Scriptures 
 are read, and all the family called to unite. Care is taken 
 not to protract this service to an immoderate length, lest 
 the children, on account of their tender years, and the 
 servants, wearied with the labour of the day, might be in- 
 clined to sleep, when their minds ought to be attentive. 
 Nor is it hurried over as though it were of no importance: 
 but sufficient time is taken reverently and decently to 
 thank God for his goodness, earnestly to entreat him to 
 pardon their sins, and to commit themselves into his care 
 and protection. 
 
 Oh ye worldlings I what can ye produce in the scenes 
 of your lives, that is worthy to bu compared with thi.* ? 
 "The curse of God," says the Scriptures, "is iti t'ao 
 dwellings ot' the wicked." Your parlours have no bless- 
 ings in^them. Your children and servants never hear th 
 name of God mentioned in them, unless with !i. 
 and disrespect. Your tables are unblessed. No gratctll 
 effusion of heart to that beneficent Being who crowns 
 your board with plenty, and gives you health to enjoy 
 your repast. And yet how dependant on that very Being! 
 How soon might the food you eat be turned into deadly 
 poison. 
 
 The parlour? I have been describing are types of hon- 
 *cn. where due returns are made to God for his bounties, 
 eo
 
 Ye are d v'uded by what you call rational amusements. 
 Like children ye divert yourselves in foolish play, night 
 after night, wasting your time, and substance. " And the 
 God in whose hand is your breath, you have not glorified." 
 Any thing that is serious, and useful to your souls, you 
 will not once hear, much less will you hear it repeated. 
 And what will you do in the end thereof' 1 ? Oh ! that ye 
 were wise, that ye would consider your ways, and at last 
 make some returns of gratitude to a gracious God for all 
 his benefits bestowed on you. 
 
 SABBATH DAYS. 
 Types of eternal rest fair buds of bliss, 
 
 In heavenly flowers unfolding week by week. 
 The next world's gladness imaged forth in this 
 
 Days of whose worth the Christian's heart can speak. 
 
 Eternity in time the steps by which 
 
 We climb to future ages lamps that light 
 
 Man through his darker days, and thought enrich, 
 Yielding redemption for the week's full flight. 
 
 Wak'ners of prayer in man his resting bowers, 
 
 As on he journeys in the narrow way, 
 Where, Eden like, Jehovah's walking hours 
 
 Are waited for as in the cool of day. 
 
 Days fix'd by God for intercourse with dust, 
 To raise our thoughts, and purify our powers ; 
 
 Periods appointed to renew our trust 
 A gleam of glory after six days' showers ! 
 
 A milky way mark'd out through skies else drear, 
 By radiant suns that warm as well as shine 
 
 A clue which he who follows knows no fear, 
 
 Though briers and thorns around his path way twine. 
 
 Foretastes of heaven on earth pledges of joy 
 Surpassing fancy's flight and fiction's story 
 
 The preludes of a feast that cannot cloy, 
 
 And the bright out courts of immortal glory ! 
 
 PUBLISHED BT N. EAXGS AND J. EMORY, 
 
 For the Tract Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, at the Conference 
 Office, 14 Crosby-street, New-York. 
 
 < Aior Hoyt, Printer.
 
 TO. 82. 
 
 OW RESTITTTTI01T. 
 
 ^ As all mankind are sinners, both by nature and prac- 
 tice, so the necessity of repentance, to every one who 
 would inherit everlasting life, is indispensable. This 
 truth is laid down by Scripture, in the clearest and most 
 unequivocal manner. John the Baptist, the immediate 
 forerunner of the Messiah, preached to the multitudes who 
 came to him in the wilderness the doctrine of repentance 
 Matt. iii. Those disciples who were chosen to proclaim, 
 during the period of our Redeemer's incarnation, the ap- 
 proach of the gospel dispensation, styled the kingdom ot 
 heaven, " went out and preached that men should repent," 
 Mark vi, 12. The Saviour of the world, bimself, entered 
 on his mission by publishing this truth. " The kingdom o 
 God is at hand ; repent ye and believe the gospel," Mark 
 i, 15. On one occasion, in particular, he enforces it with 
 peculiar emphasis, saying, " Except ye rep:"it, ye shall all 
 likewise perish," Luke xiii, 3-5. And, to mention no 
 more, the apostles, after receiving the Holy Ghost, con- 
 tinually evidenced their conviction of the universal obliga- 
 tion of this duty : for their language was " Repent, and be 
 baptized every one of you," Acts ii, 17. " Repent ye, 
 therefore, and be converted," Acts iii, 19. " God com- 
 mandeth all men every where to repent," Acts xvii, 30. 
 
 True repentance supposes such a conviction of sin as 
 produces deep and unfeigned sorrow for having committed 
 it; this sorrow is manifested by " fruits meet for repent- 
 ance," Matt, iii, 7 ; that is, by ceasing to do evil, and 
 learning to do well. To the penitent the gracious invita- 
 tion of Jesus Christ is immediately addressed, Matt, xi, 28. 
 And whosoever comes to Christ, and believes on him, 
 shall be saved, Jj)hn iii, 17. 
 
 One very important fruit of true repent'ince, however, 
 DO which the reader's attention is more particularly soli- 
 cited, is that of restitution. This duty arises out of tl 
 nature of repentance itself; because, if we are heartily 
 sorry for having done any evil which it is io our power 
 undo, a desire to obtain peace to our own minds, will 
 naturally lead us to seek to repair our fault by undoing;, 
 as far as circumstances will admit, the evil of which we
 
 2 ON RESTITUTION. 
 
 have been guilty ; for instance, if we are sorry for having 
 wronged our neighbour, we shall seek to restore to him his 
 right; if we are sorry for having injured his reputation or 
 character, we shall labour to remove the odium we have 
 thrown upon it. And he can have but little grounds lor 
 pretending to sincere repentance, who still holds fast his 
 iniquitous gains, or refuses to use every proper method to 
 justify and clear the character that he has wronged. 
 
 It is an act of justice, and mere equity between man 
 and man, but, especially, that comprehensive rule which 
 requires us to do unto others as we would they should do 
 unto us, demands, that we should make restitution to the 
 person whom we have injured, according to the utmost of 
 our ability. He who refuses to do this, is guilty of flagrant 
 injustice, by withholding from his fellow creature that 
 which is his due ; and it. would be the height of presump- 
 tion for such a one to expect forgiveness from the hands of 
 his Creator and Judge, until he has learned to exercise 
 justice towards man. 
 
 The duty of restitution, as a fruit of repentance, is 
 strongly enforced in Scripture. And the will of God on 
 this subject is clearly manifested in the following passage : 
 < If the wicked restore the pledge, give again that he had 
 robbed, and walk in the statutes of life without committing" 
 iniquity, he shall surely live," Ezek. xxxiii, 15. 
 
 The ceremonial law, in giving directions relative to the 
 expiation of sins of injustice towards others, requires that 
 restitution should be made to the injured person, previous 
 to offering any sacrifice for the sin. See Lev. vi, 2-7. The 
 restitution there prescribed, is of things taken by violence ; 
 of things gotten by deceit, as by cheating and everreach- 
 ing ; of things delivered to keep and which have been 
 embezzled, or made way with; of things that have been 
 found, and kept back from their owners ; and of all things 
 about which a false oath hath been taken ; in all these 
 cases the principal is to be restored, and a fifth part added 
 thereto, on the day of the trespass offering, Lev. vi, 4, 5. 
 The case of Zaccheus is remarkable, Luke xix, 8 : influ- 
 enced by the Holy Ghost, he made restitution of all he had 
 iniquitously taken according to the rule established in such 
 cases by the Roman law, the law under which he had 
 offended ; and even Judas the apostate felt and acknow- 
 ledged the necessity of restitution ; for he fully cleared
 
 ON RESTITUTION. 3 
 
 the character that he had calumniated, and gave back the 
 money he had so wickedly gained, Matt, xxvii, 3-5. 
 
 It is related of good Bishop Latimer, that, when he was 
 preaching before Edward VI, and many of his courtiers, 
 from Luke xix, 8 ; he urged the necessity of restitution, 
 as a Christian duty, in the most pointed manner, charging 
 many of those in high office, who were then present, with 
 being guilty of defrauding his majesty's revenue ; observ- 
 ing, that he could then point them out to his majesty ; but 
 that he hoped truth and a consciousness of their sin, would 
 cause them speedily to restore what they had so vilely 
 taken away, and that his duty to God, to them, and to his 
 king was such, that he must faithfully inform his majesty 
 if they did not : and that, if they were at a loss for a way 
 of making this restitution, without exposing themselves to 
 public censure, they might bring the money to him, and he 
 promised them before God, that it should be safely con- 
 veyed to the king's use, and that no one should know from 
 whom it came. It appears that large sums were soon 
 restored through the hands of the pious bishop. His sen-* 
 timents on this subject, and his manner of address before 
 the king, may be seen in his " Sermon on Restitution," 
 which is still in existence, a few sentences of which are 
 fcere subjoined, 
 
 " 1 have now preached three lents. The first time I 
 preached restitution : ' restitution,' quoth some, ' \V hat 
 should he preach of restitution ? Let him preach contri- 
 tion,' quoth they, 'and let restitution alone: we can never 
 make restitution.' Then say I, if thou wilt not make 
 restitution, thou shalt go to the devil for it. Now, choose 
 thec either restitution, or else endless damnation. At my 
 first preaching of restitution, one man took remorse of 
 conscience, and acknowledged himself to me, that he had 
 deceived tha king, and willing he was to make restitution, 
 and so, the first lent, came to my hands, twenty pounds, 
 to be restored to the king's use. Well, the next lent, came 
 three hundred and twenty pounds more : I received it my- 
 self and paid it to the king's council. I was asked who 
 he was that made this restitution? But should I have 
 named him ? Nay, they should as soon have had my lite. 
 Well ; now this lent, came one hundred and eighty pounds, 
 ten shillings, which I have paid this present day to th 
 king's council. ' And so,' quoth I, to a certain nobleman
 
 4 ON RESTITUTION. 
 
 that is one of the king's council, ' If every man that hath 
 beguiled the king, should make restitution after this sort, 
 it would bring the king twenty thousand pounds.' ' Yea, 
 that it would,' quoth he, ' a whole hundred' thousand 
 pounds." Alack! Alack! make restitution ; for God's sake 
 make restitution : ye will repent in hell else ! There is 
 no reined) but restitution, open or secret, or else hell." 
 
 The following letter, which appears to have been the 
 second on that subject, breathes a spirit of repentance, 
 and exemplifies the duty of restitution : 
 
 " Sir, In November, 1804, I sent you a letter, con- 
 taining five guineas, addressed to yourself and your late 
 father, whom I did not then know to be departed this life. 
 The same blessed and glorious God, whose grace was the 
 sole cause of my sending the former, has induced, and en- 
 abled me to inclose a farther sum of five guineas, to pay 
 what I so iniquitously took away, hoping you will receive 
 the same, and accept the contrition of a poor penitent. 
 I have shed many a tear of sorrow, while I have reflected 
 on rny dishonesty. And now, sir, permit me to lead your 
 mind to consider the riches of the gospel of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ. Its divine precepts taught me my guilt and trans- 
 .gressions ; God's Spirit convinced me of my sin ; and, 
 after discovering to me the terrors of a broken law, in 
 good time, led and enabled me to behold the perfect re- 
 mission of sins ; of all sins, promised and ensured to me, 
 on repentance and faith in God'i* blessed Son. To the 
 glory of God, I humbly declare, that I have long enjoyed 
 a sense of forgiveness, and a calm peacefulness, looking 
 alone to the Lamb of God,. And while his blessed gospel 
 speaks peace to my wounded conscience, it leads me to 
 wish to make reparation, as far as is in my power. It 
 produces holiness, justice, and true morality, for faith 
 workcth hi/ love. Although unknown, I hope, sir, your 
 heart inclines to forgive me. In a little time we shall meet 
 at the judgment seat of Christ, when you will see who I 
 am. May it please Almighty God to bless what I have 
 writtnn, and to accept this humble offering to the glory ot 
 his holy nan:'- 1 , and the honour of the gospel of his glori- 
 ous Son, T.\' u,s Christ. May his Holy Spirit mercifully 
 incline your heart, and all who read these lines, to con- 
 sider so great a salvation, and to apply unto Christ, with 
 joy am! thanksgiving, that we may all join in saying, " Not
 
 ON RESTITUTION. 5 
 
 unto us, oh Lord ! but unto thy name, be the glory and 
 praise, for ever and ever. Amen." 
 
 The same grace of God will produce the same feelings 
 . wherever its influence is yielded unto. When Mr. T. O. 
 ^was awakened to a sense of his sin and guilt, under the 
 ministry of that great and good man, Mr. Whitfield, it be- 
 came one of his tirst concerns to do justice, by discharging 
 all the small debts he had contracted before his conversion, 
 and he travelled into various parts of tins country to find 
 out the persons to whom he owed any thing. 
 
 " A woman called on me," says Mr. Strachan, " a few 
 days since, who, on stepping into the room to speak with 
 her, burst into a flood of tears, and in broken accents re- 
 lated the following circumstance: ' Sixteen yc-irs ago, I 
 
 was servant to Mr. , at . Going one day into 
 
 his counting house, I observed a number of bank notes 
 lying^ on his writing desk. My covetous heart prompted 
 me to steal one of them, which I did, and got clear off. 
 For some days I felt% great deal of uneasiness from a 
 conviction of the enormity of this crime ; but in a little 
 time the conviction wore off, and I resumed my former 
 cheerfulness. I have been deeply impressed of late with, 
 that passage of Scripture, ' Thou God seest me ; and I feel 
 that I cannot obtain peace with God until restitution is 
 made ; I have therefore prepared a letter inclosing a one 
 pound note, and will be much obliged by your calling on 
 my'old mistress and delivering it to her.' After adminis- 
 tering suitable advice to the penitent, I embraced the first 
 opportunity of fulfilling her Bequest." 
 
 They who are disposed by the Holy Ghost to this duty, 
 will, it is presumed, seldom be ai a loss how to perform 
 it, or to decide to what extent restitution is to be made. 
 It is possible, however, that difficult cases may occur, in 
 which it will require much prudence, deliberation, and 
 fervent prayer, as well as the counsel of wise and pious 
 persons. Yet, let no one ever attempt to lull his con- 
 science to sleep over the neglect of this duty, because its 
 performance may be attended with difficulties. 
 
 In ordinary cases the following hints may be useful : 
 1. That where restitution can be made in kind, or the 
 injury can be certainly valued, we are to restore the Iking 
 or its value. 2. We are bound to restore the thing with the 
 natural increase of it, that is to satisfy for the loss sustain-
 
 6 ON RESTITUTION. 
 
 ed in the mean time, and the gain hindered. 3. Where 
 Jhe thing cannot be restored, and the value of it is not 
 certain, we are to give reasonable satisfaction, according 
 to a middle estimation. 4. We are to give, at least, what 
 the law would give, for that is generally equal, and in most 
 cases rather favourable than otherwise. 5. A man is not 
 only bound to restitution for the injury he has done, but 
 for al! that directly follows upon the injurious act. 6. 
 Whore the injured person is dead, restitution should be 
 made to his nearest relative living ; and where no relative 
 is left, the iniquitous gain should be devoted to the cause 
 of God and the poor, but in no case can it be innocently 
 kept ; for he who would approach with acceptance unto 
 God, must be careful to cleanse his hands from iniquity. 
 When, bv the grace of God, yon have already made 
 such restitution, as the nature of the case demands, or 
 your ability enables you to make it, do not immediately 
 conclude that on this account yot;r sin is forgiven and 
 future happiness secured. Repentance, and consequently, 
 restitution, are necessary, as preparatory steps to salvation ; 
 but on no other ground, than the meritorious sacrifice of 
 Jesus Christ upon the cross, can he who has pinned obtr.iti 
 cardon in the siuht of Uodi When, therefore, ycur peni- 
 tent and contrite spirit, by faith, lays hcM of, and rests 
 Upon, the atonement for sin, made by your divine Re- 
 deemer, you shall feel the blessed effects of so doing, by 
 experiencing a salvation from the guilt and dominion of 
 your iniquity. With the heart, you shall believe unto 
 righteousness, and with the mouth, make confession unto 
 salvation. 
 
 EXTRACT 
 
 From Dr. A. Clarke's remarks on Genesis xlii, and Leviticus vi, 3. 
 There is one doctrine relative to the economy.of divine 
 providence, little heeded among men : I mean the doctrine 
 of restitution. When a man bus done wrong to his neigh- 
 bour, though on his repentance, and faith in our Lord 
 Jesus, God" forgives him his sin, yet he requires him to 
 make restitution to the person injured, if it lie. in the com- 
 post f his potw. If he do not, God will take care to 
 exact it in the course of his providence. Such respect has 
 he for the dictates of infinite justice, that nothing of this 
 kind shall pass unnoticed. No man should expect mercy
 
 ON RESTITUTION. 7 
 
 at the hand of God, who, having wronged his neighlxmr, 
 refuses, when he has it in his power, to make restitution. 
 Were he to weep tears of blood, both the justice and mercy 
 of God would shut out his prayer, if he made not his 
 neighbour amends for the injury he may have done him. 
 The mercy of God, through' the blood of the cross, can 
 alone pardon his guilt; but no dishonest man can expect 
 this ; and he is a dishonest man who illegally holds the 
 property of another in his hand. The unnatural brethren, 
 who sold their brother into captivity, are now about to be 
 captivated themselves; and the binder himself is bound in 
 his turn ; and though a kind providence does not permit 
 the evil to fall upon them, yet, while apprehending it, they 
 feel all its reality ; conscience tupplying the lack of prison, 
 jailer, and bonds. 
 
 The Roman lawyers laid it down as a sound maxim in 
 jurisprudence, " That he who found any property, and 
 applied it to his own use, should be considered as a thief, 
 whether he. knew the owner or not ; for in their view the 
 crime was not lessened, suppose the finder was totally 
 ignorant of the right awner." On this subject every 
 honest man must say, that the man who finds any lost 
 property, and does not make all due inquiry to find out the 
 owner, should in sound policy be treated as a thief. It is 
 said of the Dyrboeans, a people who inhabited the tract 
 between Bactria and India, that if they met with any lost 
 property, even on the public road, they never even touched 
 it. This was actually the case ra this kingdom in the time of 
 Alfred the Great, about A. D. 888 ; so that golden brace- 
 Jets hung up on the public roads were untouched by the 
 finger of rapine. One of Solon's laws was, Take, not up 
 ichat you laid not down. How easy to act by this prin- 
 ciple in case of finding lost property : " This k> not mine, 
 and it would be criminal to convert it to my use, unless th 
 owner be dead, and his family extinct." When all due 
 inquiry is made, if no owner can be found, the lost pro- 
 perty may be legally considered to be the property of the 
 finder. 
 
 LOUD, we are vile, conceived in sin, 
 And born unholy and unclean : 
 Sprung from the man whosr- guilty fall 
 Corrupts his race, and taints us all.
 
 ON RESTITUTION. 
 
 Soon as we draw our infant breath, 
 The seeds of sin grow up for death ; 
 Thy law demands a perfect heart, 
 But we're defiled in every part. 
 
 Great God, create my heart anew, 
 And form my spirit pure and true ; 
 Oh make me wise betimes to see 
 My danger and my remedy. 
 
 Behold, I fall before thy face ; 
 
 My only refuge is thy grace : 
 
 No outward forms can make me clean ; 
 
 The leprosy lies deep within. 
 
 No bleeding bir<$ nor bleeding beast, 
 Nor hyssop branch, nor sprinkling priest, 
 Nor running brook, nor flood, nor sea, 
 Can wash the dismal stain away. 
 
 Jesus, my God, thy blood alone 
 Hath power sufficient to atone ; 
 Thy blood can make me white as snow ; 
 No Jewish types could cleanse me so. 
 
 While guilt disturbs and breaks my peace, 
 Nor flesh, nor soul hath rest or ease; 
 Lord, let me hear thy pard'ning voice, 
 And make my broken heart rejoice. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY N. BANGS AND J. EMORY, 
 
 For th T-c.. "' '' ''>' Methodist Episcopal Chinch at 
 
 Office, 14 Crosby-street, New-York. 
 
 Hoyt, Printer.
 
 * -4 
 
 % ^ 
 
 v
 
 I 
 
 >
 
 
 A 000024036 6 
 

 
 
 -=