, 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 ?', 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, anc 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 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 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 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 , 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 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 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 -=