« PreviousContinue »
for years to tell the tale of his own affliction, and the terror and alarm which these scare-crows of superstition had excited in his breast.' T
. “Miss N--." I hope, Sir, I may live, and if I do, I shall then have a proof, that there is nothing in it. .“ Mr. Llewellin... And pray, Madam, have you never known a patient recover from his illness even after he has been warned of his approaching death-by these omens of terror ? 6 Miss N
o yes, Sir, my dear mother was once very ill, and for seven nights our dog howled as: he did last night; but she lived seven years afterwards, and when she died no noises were heard.
6 Mr. Llewellin. What stronger proof do you require of the folly of being alarmed by sounds which the inferior tribes of nature utter, and which you must know, on reflection, are no sure indications of any future event in the history of human life? That you will die is certain, and that you will enter the eternal world is certain ; and that you will stand before the judgment seat of Christ is certain ; and that you are ignorant of. the exact time when these great events will take place is equally certain; but instead of allowing your mind to be agitated by these senseless sounds, you ought to be preparing for the final issue of life...
I know but one way,' says the celebrated Addison, of fortifying my soul against these gloomy presages , and terrors of mind, and that is, by securing to myself the friendship and affection of that Being who disposes of events, and governs futurity. He sees, at one view, the whole thread of my existence, not only that part of it which I have already passed through, but that which runs forward into all the depths of eternity. When I lay me down to sleep, I recommend myself to his care: when I awake, I give myself up to his direction. Amidst all the evils that threaten me, I will look up to him for help, and question not but he will either avert them, or turn them to my advantage. Though I know neither the time nor the manner of the death I am to die, I am not at all solicitous about it; because I am sure he knows them both, and that he will not fail to comfort and support me under them.'”
" He opened it, and attempted to read it; but he had not tead many words before he started from his seat; as if wounded by an invisible hand-threw the letter on the ground, and was retiring abruptly from the room, when he recognized his wife, What's the matter, my Henry?' she exclaimed, as she attempted to follow him.. Read that!' he sternly said, pointing to the letter on the floor, and suddenly withdrew, closing the door after him.”
London: PRINTED FOR FRANCIS WESTLEY, 10, STATIONERS: COURT, AND AVE-MARIA-LANE.
, and "ON A POSTACY. :).
19lu per le don d'enll. and 10 lei
, , , * PARTull: 1 ) | J19c 14"
lun jj . 1, Le Remember from whence, thou art fallep. Remember the high standard you once proposed to yourself, the duties you discharged, the comforts and privileges you enjoyed. Remember the hours of communion with God, and of intercourse with his people once vouchsafed to you. What have lyou gained in exchange for these? What is there in the gifts of this poor fugitive, empty world in its friendships, its follies, or its honours-to set against your former happiness?" Do you not feel that you have forsaken the living fountains to drink out of broken cisterns? Are you not at this instant weary of the distinctions you have won, and of the society in which you live; and whilst perhaps you would be miserable without them, are you not more miserable when surrounded by them.”
010 1011 in Cunningham.
I' a la 11 19T; 14. 5. The sudden death of the venerable elder, who had been for more than fifty years an ornament to his Christian profession, produced a powerful sensation through the whole society; and many attended his funeral, as an expression of the esteem and veneration in which they held his character. There was no chief mourner on this occasion, for he had lived to bury all his near relatives, and all the friends of his youth ; but such was the degree of sorrow expressed on the countenance of the assembled throng-such the deep sigh which heaved every breast, as the ministers of death were letting down his coffin into the grave—and such the profound silence which reigned over the whole, as the solemn and impressive words of our burial service were repeated ashes to ashes, dust to dust, that every one seemed to moarn apart, as though he had lost a father or a brother. On the following Sabbath evening, his funeral discourse was preached in the chapel by the
Rey. Mr. R- , who selected the following appropriate . passage : The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be
found in the way of righteousness. After a very fine illustration of the text, and delineating the character
of the deceased, he described the closing scene of his · life. “ He was," said the preacher, not only a good,
but a devout man, and pre-eminently endowed by the "God of all grace, with a double portion of the spirit
of wisdom and understanding. Tremblingly alive for the honour of his Master's cause, he would often weep when it was endangered by the inconsistent conduct of its professed friends; and it was to an extraordinary excitement occasioned by a visit of mercy to a fellow member, that we may ascribe his sudden departure. His tender and sympathetic soul, yearning over the object of its solicitude, was thrown into an agitation from which he had not strength to recover; and having finished the work which was assigned him, he sunk beneath, the weight of his own grief, but not till he had assured his faithful friend that he died in full and certain hope of a joyful resurrection to eternal life. Be ye followers of him, who through faith and patience is now inheriting the promises, and be on your guard, lest, in departing from the living God, you should bring down the grey hairs of some venerable elder with sorrow to his grave, whose love may impel him to manifest a care for your soul.” Mr. Beaufoy heard this discourse, but it was evident by his restlessness, and the indignant look which he cast towards the preacher, that his
pride was mortified, by the allusion which was made to uhim1097 Derne, ti ini!"ise bude is
Fidelity on the part of a minister is essential, not only to his happiness, but his usefulness; yet when he permits his feelings to overpower the dictates of prudence, he is in danger of frustrating the design he wishes to accomplish. He should speak the word of life without fear; but in administering reproof, he should never be so personal in his remarks or allusions, as to turn the eyes of an audience on the individual who may require it. By the adoption of such a course, .. no one would feel secure from attack, when he comes to hear the message of grace ; nor is it likely that the offender will be reclaimed from the error of his way, when he finds himself made a spectacle of derision, in the presence of his brethren. Instead of relenting, he will be hardened; and may be induced to abandon the place, which the angel of mercy visits with his healing power, rather than remain to endure the pointed attacks of his delegated servant. The wisdom of the serpent should always be blended with the innocence of a dove in the character of a minister; and while he wishes to
1.4,.. so V i hold sacred the fidelity of the pulpit, he should be no less solicitous to guard against all appearance of personalities. " hiir son
u mi hinitis When the power of vital religion is declining in its influence over the mind of a professor, and he begins to cherish feelings, and adopt habits which are opposed to the exquisite delicacy, and purity of his ayowed, principles, he will not be able to endure the close appeals of the ministry. Prudence will often keep him from making any loud complaints against a general strain of faithful address, even while his heart is writhing under it; and his habits of intimacy with his Christian brethren will sometimes prevent him from leaving a society with which he has formed a close and a sacred unioni; but when the principle of apostacy has gained an ascendancy over his conscience, and he begins to treat with contempt the remonstrances and admonitions of private friendship, he will soon discover some jastifiable cause of offence, and retire in disgust, if not in wrath. Moti vation
Thus it was with Mr. Beaufoy. Stung to anguish by the allusion which the preacher made to the visit of the venerable elder, and to his sudden death, which was occasioned by his overwhelming sorrow, he left the chapel with a breast highly surcharged with indignation; and the following morning, sent to the managers his arrears of subscription, requesting at the same time that they would do him the honour to consider him no longer a member with them. Traseiro?
But while Mr. Beaufoy was gradually undergoing this change in the moral tone of his feelings, Mrs. Beaufoy still retained her accustomed degree of reverence for religion, of which she formed no definite conception; and though he would have plunged at once into the depths of practical infidelity when he withdrew from the Methodist society, yet she thought it right still to attend some place of worship, and keep up the appearance of respect for its public services. Where to go, was a question which they could not easily determine, but as some of their most intimate friends attended a Socinian meeting in E_ Street, they resolved to accompany them on the following Sabbath. This sudden transition, from the fervid devotion of Methodism, to the frigid apathy of Socinianism, produoed no unpleasant im