visited this city, yet throughout his long and active ministry was he sustained under the burden of an almost unexampled service. Latterly, however, his health had de- · clined. cess of the true orator.-But that which imparted a charm to his whole life was the divine unction which pervaded and sweetened all his superiour endowments and qualifications. All the vigour of his noble intellect was consecrated to God. All the matured fruits of his long experience was an oblation of righteousness to the Father of Mercies. All the variety of his acquirements, and all the vastness of his well furnished mind were merged in one prevailing determi-above all earthly things, and his nation to know nothing save Christ crucified. The last sermon which he delivered from this place, was founded on the text, And Enoch walked with God and was not, for God took him." Although in this his last effort, nature seemed almost exhausted, yet his mind was borne lips appeared to be touched with hallowed fire, whilst he unfolded We could dwell with delight the privileges of that communion upon many other views of the char- with God, which he was soon to acter of your lamented father in enjoy in measure large and high. the Gospel. It would afford us a As his malady increased, and his mournful pleasure to retrace his sufferings became more intense, whole history; to bring up to you the graces of a sanctified disposithe remembrance of his abundant tion were more conspicuous. These labours, of his willingness to spend were a humble reliance on Christ and be spent in the service of God, as the all-sufficient Saviour, paand of his punctual discharge of tience under affliction, and tenderevery duty involved in his ministeness of heart. When any of his rial engagements. It would be friends would allude to the importdelightful to present you an exact ance of his past services in the picture of the man whom you al-cause of Christ, he would reply, ways found at the post of duty, whose life offered an unremitting attestation to the truths which he preached. But we must now hasten to the closing scene of his course, and contemplate that maj. esty which death conferred upon the spirit which emitted a parting ray on its falling tenement. "Upon a review of life I find much to be thankful for; but O! what cause to be humbled before my God. I am overwhelmed with the sense of my ingratitude, of my neglects, of my unfaithfulness as a minister of Christ." It evidently distressed him when his past exertions in the cause of religion were Our beloved friend and brother spoken of as indications of uncomwas favoured with an uncommon mon piety. If I have been the vigour of constitution, and Provi-instrument in the hands of God, of dence had blessed him with health and strength equal to the weighty duties which he had to perform. Though he had never left the direct path of his avocations in quest of health, and though he spared himself in no instance when Christian benevolence called him to those who were sinking under the violence of malignant disease, and though in prosecuting his labour of humanity he often walked amidst the pestilence which has frequently doing any thing for his glory, it is to me a great mercy. But how numerous have been my short comings. I am filled with shame and confusion, when I reflect how little I have improved my opportunities for doing good." That glorious theme on which it had been his delight to dwell in all the exercises of his ministry, swelled in magnitude as he approached the close of his life; and it was evident that Christ, and only Christ was all his salvation. To a friend who re-emphasis the following beautiful passage from Jeremiah: "Are there any among the vanities of the heathen that can cause rain? or can the heavens give showers? Art thou not He, O Lord our God? Therefore we will wait upon thee, for thou hast made all these things." The intervals between the paroxysms of his disease were usually filled with the reading of pious and devout books. Those which he generally preferred after the Bible, were the Pilgrim's Progress, Rowe's Devout Exercises, Mrs. Graham's Life, and Fuller's Essays. The last fortnight of his life was a period of almost incessant suffering. When at one time he had received a moment's respite from pain, he minded him that past experiences were valuable, as furnishing evidence of our acceptance through Christ, he replied,Yes, they are, and if I had not these, I know that the promises of grace are still held out: Christ is still the same Almighty Saviour, ready to receive and to pardon the repenting sinner." Like the great and pious Watts, when in the extremity of nature's struggle, he was looking more diligently for the prop which was to sustain his sinking spirit, he found the simplest truths of the gospel the most encouraging. The last time he visited the house of God, was when a neighbouring minister preached on some of the plain and practical points of the Chris-remarked, "We are apt in health tian faith. On this occasion he expressed his satisfaction, observing, "These are blessed truths on which we may live and die." To some friends who seemed deeply affected at the view of his sufferings and affliction, he said, "I do not pretend to determine, but my own opinion is, that this is my last sick-greatly magnified in our salvation." ness; and if through the riches of divine grace, I may obtain the lowest seat in heaven, death is not unwelcome to me. He lost no opportunity to address, in the most affectionate manner, all who entered his apartment, and as his strength permitted, he continued to pray in his family with that spiritual fervor and elevation of soul which indicated his ripeness for bliss. During a violent thunder storm, whilst he was in great pain, he repeated with to think ease our right, and nothing more than a common bounty, but the Lord can soon make us feel that a little respite from pain is a great mercy." To a friend who entered his chamber he said, "O! if such sinners as you and I ever get to heaven, redeeming grace will be To some friends present he said, "I am a dying man, but my trust is in the Redeemer; I preach Christ to you dying, as I have attempted to do whilst living. I commend Christ and his salvation to you." Just before he expired, he requested the 23d Psalm to be read, and whilst this delightful portion of Scripture was imparting its balm to his listening spirit, he flew away as on the wings of a dove to be at rest. RELIGIOUS COMMUNICATIONS. For the Am. Bap. Magazine. · DEATH is, on many accounts, an are conversant in life, and introdu ces us to others which are hid in comparative obscurity, renders the change full of serious interest. We always feel regret at leaving that which is familiar, and entering on 14 that which is untried. The idea of || must shortly enter. These scenes darkness, which is always associated with death, makes us approach it, even in thought, with no small degree of trepidation. The vale of death, when its darkness is not dissipated by the rays of the Sun of Righteousness,is always gloomy,and calculated to inspire serious and awful reflections. When light from heaven illuminates the valley and hope cheers the soul, death loses much of its terror; but even then it is frequently attended with some gloomy forebodings. The reflec-tary to the living, by inducing them tions which are thus excited by the approach of death account for the fact, that men in all ages have watched the closing moments of others with trembling anxiety. The feelings discovered by the dying have often agitated the living, and sometimes brought them to repentance. When the saints have met and overcome death, good men have beheld the contest and the victory with unspeakable delight,erable ends of Balaam and Ahitheand even the wicked have been led to say with Balaam, "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his." Such scenes, on account of their pleasing associations and consoling prospects, are often presented to the public. of painful anticipation are often concealed from as many as possible, and they are very seldom presented to the view of the public. The connexions of those who die in this manner are seldom willing that the last agonies of their friends should be exposed; in consequence of which, the spectators suffer them to pass in silence, to the detriment of those who are approaching the same end. These examples would in all probability, if presented, prove salu to avoid the paths which conduct to so wretched an end. In accordance with this sentiment the scriptures teach, that while on the one hand the righteous hath hope in his death, on the other the wicked is driven away in his wickedness. And while they present the peaceful happy death of good old Jacob and the triumphant exit of the martyr Stephen, they present also the mis phel, of Judas and Herod. Although it is a far less pleasing task to pourtray the end of the wicked, than to exhibit the happy and triumphant departure of the sons of God, I shall nevertheless in this paper present an example of the former kind. But while the circumstances at- The place in which the circumtending the death of good men are stances about to be related occurpresented to our notice, we partial-red, was a village situated in a disly forget that thousands of others are yearly passing from the stage of life in a far different manner and with far different prospects. Many die without any foundation on which to rest a hope for the future: of these, some pass off in gloomy, sullen silence; others endeavour to persuade themselves that it will be well with them, though they cannot exactly tell why, and so seek a little momentary comfort in death; while others still, unable to observe this silence or believe themselves prepared to die, discover the most gloomy forebodings of that wo on which they are fully aware they tant part of the country. In this village, religion had many friends, and the wretched of course found helpers. The subject of this narration was a stranger. He entered the village at evening, when he was partially intoxicated. Nothing farther of his life was known, except from his own lips. He threw himself into a private house; and when the fumes of his wine were dissipated, he appeared evidently diseased in body. A violent fever had seized his whole frame, and it raged with the greater fury from his habits of intemperance. When it was ascertained that his com plaint was alarming, every atten- || this dread moment, all in which he had previously trusted afforded him no relief, and he felt that he was a miserable sinner dying without hope. He said he had in the early part of his life been under serious impressions, and that on a hypocritical pretence, he once made a profession of religion. But these serious impressions which he had had in his youth were long since worn away, and for years he had When he called to mind the many opportunities which he had enjoyed for obtaining the favour of God through the Lord Jesus Christ, and portunities, he was filled with unutterable distress. He concluded that he had committed the sin against the Holy Ghost, and that his doom was already certain. tion was paid which the nature of his case required; but no prescription was attended with success. He continued to grow worse. When he perceived the violence of his disease, he became alarmed, from a conviction that he was unprepared to die. As his disorder increased in violence, his solicitude for the welfare of his soul increased. The family into whose hands the sick man had fallen perceiving his anx-lived in the practice of great sins. iety, called in the minister on whose preaching they attended, to direct and console their miserable guest. To him the sick man unbosomed his sorrow, and he in turn endeav-his neglect and abuse of these opoured to direct his attention to the Saviour who died for sinners; but these directions imparted no power to call that Saviour his own. He admitted the truth of what was said to him, but was unable to avail him- No considerations which were self of the hope which it tended to presented to his view could divert inspire. He declared that for him his agonizing mind from his atrothere was no mercy. Soon after cious guilt or his impending doom. this first interview of the servant of The darkness of night served only God, the writer of this article saw to increase his agony; so that the him; his distress of body and mind, time designed by nature for repose, instead of abating had rather in- presented before his vivid imaginacreased. After an examination of tion in more glowing colours the his state of mind, he was told that dreadful misery of the dark and it was not too late to repent and fiery pit of despair. He was reseek the Saviour, for God was great peatedly visited by the ministers of yea infinite in mercy; but he re- Christ, who endeavoured to give peatedly urged that his was not a him such instruction as his case common case, and that he had no required. In these instructions, reason to expect any thing but the Christ and his cross were held up wrath of God forever. He would as the only ground of hope to such however sometimes for a moment sinners as he knew himself to be, grant that God might be gracious, and to all others. He was repeatand then he would direct us to por-edly urged to look to the cross of tions of scripture which he thought applicable to his case; but when they were read, he would again abandon himself to despair. He was so thoroughly acquainted with the Bible that he could repeat much of it, and refer to much more. This knowledge he seemed to have acquired either for the purpose of advocating some dangerous doctrines, or for the purpose of disparaging that holy volume. But at Christ, with assurance that in this. way he would obtain life, though it was in the last dying hour. The case of the thief on the cross was suggested as a case parallel to his own. But these grounds of hope were presented in vain. They prayed with him and for him, but prayer for him was not heard. His distress and despair received no. abatement. The writer well recollects, and he can never forget it, with what dismal emphasis he ut- His remains were committed to the earth with appropriate funeral services, where they will await the resurrection and the final judgment. On the following Lord's day, the words which the dying man had uttered with so much emphasis were improved for the benefit of the living. Messrs. Editors, I lately spent an evening with a number of young ladies, who, by the fruits of their industry one afternoon in the month, support a child at the Carey Station. With a view to their profit, I read the forlowing Chapter on PUBLIC SPIRIT, from "The Christian Father's Present to his Children." My young friends were evidently delighted; and I send it for insertion in the Magazine, not only because I am confident it will be read with pleasure and profit, but because I hope it will induce all Christian parents who are able, to purchase this invaluable PRESENT for their children. PASTOR, ON PUBLIC SPIRIT. You are born, my dear children, in no common age of the world. You have entered upon the stage of existence, when some of the most interesting scenes of the great drama are being presented. There are eras, when the moral world seems to stand still, or to retrograde; and there are others, when it is propelled with accelerated movements towards the goal. Ours is of the latter kind. After the This sad and melancholy story dark and stormy epoch, which was is full of instruction for those who terminated by the glorious revolaare pursuing a course of sin and tion of 1688, the churches of Christ, for the purpose of doing them good blessed with religious liberty, sunk it is now presented to your readers. to inglorious repose. Little was No one it is presumed wishes to die done, either to improve the moral as this man died; but let all re- condition of our own population at member they must avoid his life, if home, or the state of heathen counthey would avoid his death. If in tries abroad. WHITEFIELD and youth they put off serious thoughts WESLEY broke in upon this slumand yield to the solicitations of ap-ber, when it seemed to be most propetite, or follow the impulse of pas- found. From that time, the spirit sion, they may expect to become of religious zeal awoke, and inmore and more hardened, and final-creasing its energies, and multiplyly to die without hope. If this narrative should be the means of saving any from a life of sin and a miserable death, the object of the writer will be fully attained. W. Wisdom prepares for the worst: but folly leaves the worst for that day when it comes. ing its resources till our days, it now exhibits a glorious array of means and instruments, from which, iu the long run, might be expected the conversion of the world. Christendom presents at this moment a sublime and interesting spectacle in its Bible Societies, Missionary Societies, Tract Societies, with all the other institutions |