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TRACTS 



AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



(general Series. 




VOL, IV 



PRINTED BY THE 

AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 

150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK. 



CONTENTS 



VOL. IV. 

No. Pages. 

106. Pause and Think, Am I a Christian 1 By Rev. J. Alleine, 28 

107. Little Henry and his Bearer. By Mrs. Sherwood, . 36 

108. True Prophecies, 16 

109. James Covey. By Rev. John Griffin, .... 4 

110. The Conversion of John Price, 4 

111. The Sinner Directed to the Saviour. By Rev. John Flavel, 8 

112. Samuel Barstow, or the Consistent Christian, ... 8 

113. Questions and Counsel. By Rev. Ashbel Green, D. D., . 4 

114. Serious Thoughts on Eternity, 8 

115. The Decay of Spiritual Affections. By Rev. Dr. John Owen, 8 

116. Sabbath Occupations, 12 

117. Important Questions, with Answers from the Bible, . 8 

118. Friendly Conversation, 4 

119. A Strange Thing, 16 

120. Heaven Lost. From Baxter's Saints' Rest, . . .20 

121. On the Lord's Prayer, • 8 

122. The Great Day, . . . 4 

123. Leslie's Method with the Deists, . . . . . 24 

124. A Traveller's Farewell, 4 

125. On the Traffic in Ardent Spirits, 32 

126. The Blind Slave in the Mines. By Rev. Edward Hitch- 

cock, D. D., 4 

127. Obligations of a Guardian. By an eminent Counseller at Law, 8 

128. Poor Sarah, or the Indian Woman, 8 

129. The two Apprentices. A Dialogue, .... 4 

130. Theatrical Exhibitions, 12 

131. Walking by Faith. By Rev. Andrew Fuller, . . 16 

132. The Progress of Grace. By Rev. John Newton, . . 20 

133. The Conversion of Mrs. Eleanor Emerson, ... 24 

134. Future Punishment Endless. By Rev. Andrew Fuller, . 8 



4 CONTENTS. 

No. Pages. 

135. The Life of Col. James Gardiner, 24 

136. The two Old Men ; or, What makes them to Differ 1 .16 

137. The Church Safe. By Rev. Daniel A. Clark, . . 16 

138. The Conversion of the World, 24 

139. Contentment in Humble Life, or a Memoir of Thomas Hogg, 16 

140. The Seaman's Chart. By Rev. Edward Payson, D. D., . 12 

141. The Sabbath at Sea, or the History of Samuel Newman, 32 



No. 106. 

PAUSE AND THINK, 

AM I A CHRISTIAN? 



BY REV. J. ALLEIXE. 



EXCEPT YE BE CONVERTED, YE SHALL NOT ENTER INTO THE 
KINGDOM OF HEAVEN.— MATT. 18: 3. 

Dear Reader — As you may not understand properly 
what conversion is, I will first endeavor, by the help and 
blessing of God, to show you its nature. As it may be your 
case, that you expect mercy and favor with God, though 
you continue in your natural state, I would next prove the 
necessity of conversion ; and lest you should make a most 
dangerous and destructive mistake, and imagine that you 
are converted when you are not, I would also lay before 
you the marks of the unconverted. But lest you should fear 
no harm, because you see none, and so continue satisfied in 
your present condition, I would show you the misery of the 
unconverted. To stir you up to seek the conversion of your 
heart, I would offer you some motives to it. And lastly, if 
you are convinced of your need of conversion, and are be- 
come anxious for it, I would direct you to some means in 
order to your obtaining it, and therewith your present and 
eternal salvation. 

I. I would show you the nature of conversion, both 
what it is not, and what it is. 

Your profession of Christianity is not conversion. St. 
Paul says, it lies not in word, but in power. 1 Cor. 4 : 20. 
VOL. iv. 1* 



2 AM I A CHRISTIAN 7 

There were persons in Sardis and Laodicea that were Chris- 
tians by profession, and had a name to live ; yet because 
they had but a name, they were condemned by Christ. 

Your baptism is not a conversion. Many a person has 
been baptized, and yet been destitute of holiness. Wicked 
Ananias and Sapphira had both been baptized, and yet were 
both suddenly struck dead in their sins. Simon Magus was 
baptized, and yet continued in the gall of bitterness and in 
the bond of iniquity. Where Christianity is the professed 
religion of any country, very many who are called by the 
name of Christ, have only the name, and not the disposition 
of Christ. 

A good education is not conversion. Education may 
render you decent in your behavior, but cannot change your 
heart. Joash appeared very devout while his uncle Jehoi- 
ada lived, but after his good tutor was taken out of the way, 
he soon showed what spirit he was of, by his suddenly 
giving way to idolatry. 

A strict performance of all the outward duties of religion, 
and a diligent attendance upon all the means of grace, is not 
conversion. Paul, even when he was unconverted, could 
say that he lived after the strictest sect, and in all good 
conscience, and that touching the righteousness of the law, 
he was blameless. The Pharisees in general were so re- 
markably strict in outward things, that it passed for a com- 
mon proverb among the Jews, that if but two persons went 
to heaven, one would be a Pharisee : and yet our Lord, 
instead of commending them, said unto them, Woe, woe, 
woe unto you. 

A turning from immorality and profaneness to sobriety 
and regularity, is not conversion. Lead may be cast into 
many different shapes, and yet it remains but a base metal 
still. And so men may be greatly changed, and be reformed 
from all gross outward acts of sin, and escape the pollutions 
of the world, and yet be unrenewed in their hearts. Herod 



AM I A CHRISTIAN % 3 

heard John the Baptist gladly, and honored him, and did 
many things ; and yet rested short of conversion. 

Deep convictions of sin, and sharp and sore pangs of con- 
science, if the person go no farther, are not conversion. 
Pharaoh, Ahab, Felix, and Simon Magus, and even Judas, 
were under great terrors of conscience. These distresses 
often come to nothing, and prove only so many foretastes 
of hell. 

Strong movings of the affections under the powerful 
preaching of the word, or under some peculiar dispensations 
of Providence, may not end in conversion. There may be 
very strong desires after good things, and likewise great 
delight in them, even in the unconverted, as was the case 
with those of whom the Lord said, They seek me early, and 
delight to know my ways, and take delight in approaching 
to God. Isa. 58 : 2. And there may be great flashes of joy, 
as in the case of the hearers our Lord speaks of, who receiv- 
ed the word with joy, but had no root in themselves, and so 
in time of tribulation and persecution withered away. 

As you would not be deceived in a matter of the great- 
est importance, examine what you ground your hopes of 
heaven and salvation upon. 

Is it your profession of Christianity — your baptism — your 
religious education — your sobriety — your diligence in your 
business — your justice and honesty in your dealings — your 
performance of religious duties — or the trouble of mind you 
have sometimes had for your sins ? I do assure you, from 
the word of the Lord, these pleas will not be accepted at 
God's bar. All these, however good, will not prove that 
you are converted, and so will not be sufficient to your 
salvation. 

But if those who can say thus much of themselves come 
short of conversion, what must be the case of the open, out- 
ward sinner ? If you, alas ! are such a one, you are to 
know that you are far, very far from the kingdom of God. 



4 AM I A CHRISTIAN ? 

May one be strictly moral, and yet not be converted ? where 
then shall the outwardly ungodly and the gross sinner ap- 
pear ? May a man keep company with the wise virgins, and 
yet be shut out ? and shall not a companion of fools, that is, 
of sinners, much more be destroyed ? May a man be true and 
just in all his dealings towards his fellow-creatures, and yet 
not be justified before God ? what then will become of you ? 
Oh, bethink yourself of turning to the Lord speedily and 
thoroughly, or else iniquity will be your ruin. Seek to the 
Saviour for his pardoning and renewing grace, and rest not 
until God has made a thorough change in you ; for you must 
be another man, a new man in Christ, or else you will be a 
lost man for ever. 

But I am now to show you positively what is conversion. 

It is a universal change in your heart, and also in your 
life. It goes throughout a man, throughout his mind, and 
his whole conduct. The old man is put off, the new man is 
put on, and all things are become new. 

1 . In conversion the understanding is enlightened, so that 
he who was sometime darkness is become light in the Lord. 
He is enlightened with the knowledge of God. His spotless 
purity, his perfect hatred and abhorrence of sin, his infinite 
justice to punish it, his infinite knowledge and power and 
goodness, his all-sufficiency, and his other glorious perfec- 
tions, as revealed in the word, are powerfully perceived in 
his mind. Now he sees what he only heard of before. 

His understanding is also enlightened into the knowledge 
of sin. Now the sinner sees it, in some measure in its 
proper colors, as the worst of evils, exceeding sinful, though 
he could see but little evil in it before. Oh, what de- 
formed monsters do his formerly beloved lusts appear. If 
they were right eyes, he would pluck them out ; or if they^ 
were right hands, he would consent to their being cut off. 
He sees the unreasonableness, the unrighteousness, and the 
abominableness there is in sin, how odious and offensive it is 



AM I A CHRISTIAN ? 5 

to God, and how hurtful and destructive to his own soul ; so 
that he is affrighted at it, loathes it, flees from it, and looks 
upon himself as the greatest fool for fighting so long against 
the Lord, and harboring such a destroyer in his breast. 

His understanding is illuminated with the knowledge of 
himself. The prodigal is now come to himself, and is made, 
as it were, full of eyes within ; sees that his inward parts 
are very wickedness, and knows and feels the plague of his 
own heart. He sees how desperately corrupt his fallen na- 
ture is, what enmity against the holy God and his holy law 
has lodged there all his life ; so that he abhors himself. He 
that could see little sin before in himself, and could find no 
matter of confession before God, except some few gross 
evils, now sees the deep and universal corruption of his 
whole soul, feels that his heart is deceitful above all things, 
and desperately wicked ; and he is made to cry out, " Un- 
clean, unclean ! O Lord, wash me thoroughly from my sin, 
and create in me a clean heart." He writes andean upon 
all his performances ; he sees the blasphemy, and the theft, 
and murder and adultery, that are in his heart, of which 
before he was ignorant. Though he saw no danger before, 
he now concludes himself lost for ever, unless renewed by 
the power of grace. 

Farther, his understanding is enlightened with the know- 
ledge of Christ. Heretofore he saw no form nor comeliness 
in Christ, nor any beauty in him, that he should desire him ; 
but now he discovers a superlative worth, and a transcend- 
ent glory and excellency in the Lord Jesus Christ, which 
darkens all created excellencies, as the rising sun makes 
the stars to hide their heads ; he sees an infinite fulness in 
him, sufficient for the supply of all his wants, enough to 
satisfy the boundless desires of his immortal soul, and this 
makes him determined to believe in Christ and him alone, 
as his portion for ever. 

Now, my dear reader, examine yourself here ; try your 



6 AM I A CHRISTIAN ? 

own heart. Is your understanding thus enlightened ? Are 
you made acquainted with the things I have been speaking 
of? 

2. In conversion the will is renewed and brought into 
subjection to the will of God. It is cured of its utter disin- 
clination to do any thing good. A fixed aversion to evil, 
and an inclination and propensity to do good, is implanted in 
it. Now, the man has new ends and designs ; owns his in- 
tention is to glorify God in all things. He chooses Jesus as 
his Lord ; and his choice is not merely a choice made in a 
fright, as with a dying sinner, that only would believe in 
Christ rather than go to hell, when he does not really hate 
sin, nor wish to be delivered from it. Again, he takes the 
ways of holiness for his path. He takes God's testimonies, 
not as his bondage, but his heritage, his heritage for ever. 
He not only bears, but takes up with pleasure Christ's yoke. 
No time passes so agreeably, as that which he spends in 
the exercises of religion. 

Now put your conscience to this, my friend, as you go 
on, whether you really are thus renewed. You are truly 
a happy person if this be your case ; but see that you are 
faithful in examining yourself. 

3. In conversion the exercise of the affections is changed. 
The convert's great desire is not after riches, but grace. 
He hungers and thirsts after it ; he had rather be gracious 
than great ; he had rather be the holiest man upon earth, 
than the most learned, the most famous, and the most pros- 
perous. Once, perhaps, he was ready to say, " Oh ! if I 
was but in great esteem, if I rolled in wealth, and swam in 
pleasure, if my debts were paid, and I and mine provided 
for, then I should be a happy man." But now his lan- 
guage is altered. " Oh !" says he, " if I were but a real 
Christian, though poor and despised, I should reckon my- 
self a happy man." Reader, is this the language of your 
heart? The converted man rejoices in the way of God's 



AM I A CHRISTIAN? 7 

testimonies more than in all manner of riches. He delights 
in the law of the Lord, for which he once had no relish. 
He has no such joy now, as in the thoughts of Christ, and 
in the company of his people. 

His cares are altered. They were before chiefly about 
the world ; nor would he allow the least time for the con- 
cerns of his soul ; but now his cry is, " What must I do to 
be saved ?" 

His fears are different. Once he was afraid of nothing 
so much as suffering the loss of his earthly goods, or the 
esteem of the world and of his friends ; nothing seemed so 
terrible to him as pain, poverty, or disgrace. But now, in 
his view, these are not to be compared with the dishonor 
of God, or his displeasure. He walks circumspectly and 
cautiously, lest he should be overtaken with sin. It fills 
his heart with grief to think of losing God's favor : this he 
dreads as his only undoing. No thought in the world pains 
him so much, as to think of parting with Christ. Reader, 
is your will determinately fixed for God in Christ ; and are 
your affections agreeable to that choice ? 

The change wrought upon a man in conversion has an 
effect upon all Ms powers. These, that were before the in- 
struments of sin, are now become the instruments of right- 
eousness. He who before abused his body, now possesseth 
his vessel in sanctification and honor, in temperance, chas- 
tity, and sobriety, and dedicateth it to the Lord alone. 

Conversion has an effect upon a man's whole life and 
practice. He takes a new course. His conversation is in 
heaven. When once God has given him a new heart, and 
written his law upon his mind, immediately he walks in his 
statutes, and keeps his judgment. Though sin may dwell 
in him, yet it has no more the dominion over him. He has 
his fruit unto holiness, he has an unfeigned respect to all 
God's commandments, and makes conscience of what some 
may think little sins and little duties. And now, my dear 



8 AM I A CHRISTIAN ? 

reader, examine well your own heart and life, and ask your 
own conscience, whether, while I have been representing 
the nature of conversion, I have been describing your case, 
and your experience, or not. 

As I have not the least hope of seeing your face in heav- 
en, unless you are converted here on earth, see Matt. 
18:3, and as there is very great danger of your resting 
satisfied in your natural state, and expecting mercy and 
favor with God, without being altogether changed and re- 
newed by his grace and Spirit, I proceed to prove, 

II. The absolute necessity of conversion. 

1 . Without this your existence is a blank ; for you can- 
not answer the end of your being. Did not God make you, 
body and soul, entirely for his service ? But withouf con- 
version you live to no purpose, yea, rather to a very bad 
purpose ; all your powers and faculties are so entirely cor- 
rupted by the fall, that except you are purified from dead 
works, you cannot serve the living God. An unsanctified 
person cannot possibly work the work of God ; for he has 
no skill in it, and no inclination at all to it. Without con- 
version you live to a very bad purpose : the unrenewed soul 
is " a cage of unclean birds," " a sepulchre " full of cor- 
ruption. All your members and powers are instruments of 
unrighteousness, and the servants of Satan. You are dis- 
honoring God, and fighting against him continually. Oh ! 
awful abuse of God's workmanship. 

2. Without conversion, your religious duties and per- 
formances will be all of them utterly in vain ; for they can 
neither please God nor save your soul. 

3. Your hopes are all in vain. Your hopes of any solid 
comfort here — for you may as well expect ease when all 
your bones are out of joint, as true happiness while you are 
in your sins. And your hopes of salvation hereafter are 
vain. Perhaps you are ready to say, " I hope in Christ ; I 



AM I A CHRISTIAN I 9 

put my whole trust in God, and therefore I doubt not but I 
shall be saved." But to hope to get to heaven without be- 
ing born again, is to hope that Christ will prove a false 
teacher. John 3 : 3. David's plea was, " I hope in thy 
word;" but your hope is against the word. You cannot 
show me any word of Christ to give you hope of heaven, 
while you go on still in your wickedness. God rejects 
such hope with abhorrence. Isaiah 48 : 1, 2. You will 
ask, "Would you have me then despair?" Yes: you 
ought absolutely to reject all hope of getting to heaven in 
an unconverted state. You must despair of ever being hap- 
py without being holy. But you must by no means despair 
of finding mercy, if you repent and turn to God ; neither 
must you despair of obtaining repentance and conversion, 
if you receive Christ as God hath appointed in his word. 

4. Without conversion, all that Christ hath done will be 
to you in vain, John 13:8; Titus 2 : 14 ; it will not avail 
to your salvation. Without the application of the Spirit in 
regeneration, you can have no interest in the benefits of 
Christ's redemption. To suppose you might, would over- 
turn his designs, which are, that men should be brought 
through sanctification to salvation. Christ will save none 
in a way contrary to his Father's will ; and this is the will 
of God, even our sanctification. 1 Thess. 4:3. 

5. To save you in your sins would oppose the attributes 
of God. 

(1.) His justice ; for the righteousness of God's judgment 
consists in rendering to all according to their work. But 
if men were to sow to the flesh, and yet reap everlasting 
life, where would be the glory of God's justice; since it 
would be giving to the wicked according to the work of the 
righteous 1 

(2.) His holiness. If God should not only save sinners, 
but save them in their sins, his holiness would be defaced. 
It would be offering violence to the infinite purity of his na- 
VOL. iv. 2 



20 AM I A CHRISTIAN 1 

ture to have such to dwell with him. If David would not 
endure such in his house nor in his sight, Psalm 101 : 3-7, 
can you think that God will endure such in his presence ? 

(3.) His truth; for God hath declared from heaven, 
that if any shall say, " I shall have peace, though I walk in 
the imagination of my heart, the Lord will not spare him, 
but his anger and his jealousy shall smoke against that 
man, and all the curses that are written in this book shall 
lie upon him, and the Lord shall blot out his name froai 
under heaven." God further declares, that he who shall 
" ascend into his hill, must be of clean hands and a pure 
heart." How could God be true, then, if, notwithstanding 
all this, he should take men to heaven without conversion ? 

4. His wisdom; for this would be to throw away the 
greatest of his mercies upon those that would not value 
them. The unsanctified sinner puts very little price upon 
God's great salvation. And it would not be at all consist- 
ent with God's infinite wisdom to force spiritual blessings 
upon those that would not be exceedingly thankful for them. 
It would also be a reflection upon his wisdom, as sinners 
are not prepared to receive his mercy. The wisdom of 
God is seen in suiting things to each other, the means 
to the end, and the quality of the gift to the capacity of the 
receiver. 

Now, if Christ should take an unconverted person to 
heaven, he could not possibly, in the very nature of tilings, 
be in the least degree happy there. If the entertainments 
of the heavenly world consisted in those things in which 
sinners delight here ; if its enjoyments were earthly riches, 
pleasures, and honors ; if its employments were the amuse- 
ments of this present life ; then they might have some sort 
of delight there, though still no real, solid happiness ; but 
these things have no place in heaven, The felicity of that 
state consists in the contemplation of God's perfections, and 
the displays of them in the works of creation, of providence, 



AM I A CHRISTIAN ? j j 

and especially of redemption. Hence, it is described by 
"seeing the Lord;" as a state of knowledge, of compla- 
cency in God, and in perpetually serving and praising him. 
Hence, adoration is generally mentioned as the employment 
of the host of heaven. These are the entertainments of the 
future world, and those who cannot find supreme happiness 
in these, cannot find it in heaven. 

But these things could afford no true satisfaction to an 
unholy person : a holy God would be an object of horror, 
rather than delight to him ; and his service a weariness, as 
it is now. If now your conversation is on earth, and not in 
heaven — if now you are living in the enjoyment of the pleas- 
ures of sense — if now you are serving foolish and hurtful 
lusts, instead of presenting your body, soul, and spirit, a 
living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God — if now you are 
seeking happiness in the vanities of time — if now you dis- 
relish and avoid the company of God's people — \£now earthly, 
sensual tempers reign in you, instead of the pure, holy, 
heavenly dispositions of the true Christian ; you may be 
assured there is no entrance for you into the blissful pres- 
ence of God; you are under an absolute incapacity of draw- 
ing near to him ; you can have no idea of the happiness of 
real Christians ; you can be no more sensible of it, than the 
blind to the beauties of sight, or the deaf to the pleasures of 
harmony. 

5. The admission of unconverted sinners into heaven 
would be contrary to God's omniscience, omnipotence, immu- 
tability ; it is the determination of heaven, that none but 
"the pure in heart shall see God." Matt. 5 : 8. Now, if 
Christ were to take the unconverted to heaven, he must do 
it without God's knowledge — where would then be his om- 
niscience ? Or against his will — where would then be his 
omnipotence ? Or else he must change his will — and then 
where would be his immutability ? O, how vain and fool- 
ish, how unreasonable and absurd, how wicked and bias- 



12 AM I A CHRISTIAN? 

phemous, then, is your hope of going to heaven without 
being regenerated and converted here on earth ! 

6. For Christ to save you in your sins, would be against 
his word. He who is truth itself hath declared, " Except 
ye be converted, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of 
heaven." Matt. 18: 3. And again, "Except ye repent, 
ye shall perish." Luke 13 : 3. One would think that a 
single word from Christ should be enough, but how often 
and how earnestly does he repeat it ! " Verily, verily, I 
say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot enter 
into the kingdom of God. Marvel not that I said unto thee, 
Ye must be born again." John 3 : 3, 5, 7. And will you 
yet hold fast your vain hope, and your presumptuous confi- 
dence, directly against Christ's own words ? 

But he must not only go quite against the law of his 
kingdom to save you in this state, but against his oath. He 
hath sworn that those that continue ignorant and unbeliev- 
ing, impenitent and disobedient, shall not enter into his rest. 
Heb. 3 : 18. The covenant of grace is confirmed by an 
oath, and sealed by blood. Heb. 6 : 17 ; Matt. 26 : 28. But 
all must be made void, if you be saved, living and dying 
unsanctified. 

God will certainly show his hatred of sin, at the same 
time that he shoics his mercy to the 'penitent sinner. There- 
fore, he that rightly nameth the name of Christ, departs from 
iniquity, and denies all ungodliness ; and he that hopes for 
life through Christ, purifies himself, even as he is pure : 
otherwise Christ would be thought a favorer of sin. But 
he will make all men know that though he pardons sin, he 
will not cherish it. 

But it would be also against all the offices which Christ 
sustains in the economy of salvation : God hath exalted him 
to be a Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance and remis- 
sion of sins ; and he would act against both if he were to 
save men in their sins. It is the office of a Prince or a King, 



AM I A CHRISTIAN 1 



13 



to be a terror to evil doers, and a praise to them that do well. 
He is a minister of God, a revenger to execute wrath upon 
him that doeth evil. Now, if Christ were to favor the un- 
godly, continuing so, and take those to reign with him that 
would not that he should reign over them, this would be quite 
against his office. What king would take rebels in a state 
of open hostility into his court ? And as Christ would not 
be a Prince, so neither would he be a Saviour, if he were 
to do this ; for his salvation is divine : he is called " Jesus, 
because he saves his people from their sins :" so that if he 
were to save them in their sins, he would neither be a King 
nor a Saviour. 

Oh, then, what meanest thou, O sleeper ? Arise, call 
upon God, that thou perish not. Awake, O secure sinner, 
lest you be consumed in your iniquities. Say as the lepers, 
" If we sit here, we die." Verily, it is not more certain 
that you are now out of hell, than that you will very soon be 
in it, except you repent and be converted. You must either 
turn, or perish. How wilful will your destruction be, if 
you should yet harden yourself in your sinful state ! If you 
are a man, and not a senseless creature, stand still and con- 
sider whither you are going. If you have the reason and 
understanding of a human being, dare not run into the flames 
of hell with your eyes open, but bethink yourself, and seek 
to the Lord for repentance. What, a man, and yet go wil- 
fully into the pit, when beasts must be forced into danger ! 
What, endowed with reason, and yet trifle with death, and 
hell, and the vengeance of the Almighty ! Will you not 
hasten to escape from everlasting torments ? Let reason 
prevail with you. Is it a reasonable thing to contend with 
the infinitely great God, to harden yourself against his word ? 
Is it reasonable for the potsherds of the earth to strive with 
their Maker ? Reader, will you sit still, till the tide of God's 
wrath come upon you, and drown you in the ocean of ever- 
lasting misery ? Is it good for you to try whether God will 
vol. iv. 2* 



14 AM I A CHRISTIAN J 

be true to his word, and harden your heart, in vain conceit 
that all will be well with you, while you remain unsancti- 
fied ? O, distracted sinners ! What will they do in the day 
of visitation ? and to whom will they flee for help ? Isaiah 
10:3. How powerfully hath sin bewitched them ! How 
effectually hath the god of this world blinded them ! How 
strong is the delusion ! How obdurate their hearts ! Some- 
times I think the mercies of God will melt them, and his 
winning invitations will overcome them ; but I leave them 
as they were : sometimes, that the terrors of the Lord will 
prevail on them ; yet neither will these do the work. O 
Lord God, send help from above. For thy mercy's sake, 
and for thy dear Son's sake, have compassion on the souls 
of those that read these lines, and save them from everlast- 
ing burnings. 

Lest you should make a most dangerous and destructive 
mistake, and imagine that you are converted, when you are 
not, I would now lay before you, 

III. The marks of the unconverted. 

St. Paul gives us a dreadful calendar of sinners, to which 
I beseech you to attend with all diligence : " For this ye 
know, that no whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor covet- 
ous man, who is an idolater, hath any inheritance in the 
kingdom of Christ and of God. Let no man deceive you 
with vain words ; for because of these things cometh the 
wrath of God upon the children of disobedience." Eph. 
5 : 5, 6. " But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abom- 
inable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, 
and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the 
lake which burneth with fire and brimstone ; which is the 
second death." Revelation 21 : 8. " Know ye not that the 
unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God ? Be not 
deceived ; neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, 
nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor 



AM I A CHRISTIAN? J5 

thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extor- 
tioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God." 1 Cor. 6 : 9, 10. 
There are other unconverted, unholy persons, that do 
not carry their marks thus openly in their foreheads, but 
secretly in their hands. These often deceive themselves 
and others, and pass for Christians and good people, when 
they are still unsound at heart. And many pass undiscov- 
ered, till death and judgment bring all to light. Remember, 
my friend, many perish by some sin, that is not only hid 
from others, but even from themselves, owing to their not 
observing their own hearts. Some of the secret sins, by 
which persons are ruined, are these that follow : 

1. Ignorance is one of these sins. Oh, how very many 
doth this sin kill in the dark ! while they think they have 
good hearts, and are in the way to heaven. Whatever ex- 
cuses you may make for your ignorance, know that it is a 
soul-ruining evil. The God of truth declares that some, who 
called themselves his people, " were destroyed for lack of 
knowledge." Hosea 4:6. " For it is a people of no un- 
derstanding, therefore he that made them will not have 
mercy on them, and he that formed them will show them no 
favor." Isa. 27 : 11. Beware that this be not your case, 
and no longer make excuses for your ignorance. 

2. Secret reserves in giving the heart to Christ. Some 
will do much, but they will not be entirely devoted to him. 
They must have some sweet sin ; they have secret excep- 
tions, for life, or liberty, or possessions. 

3. Formality. Many rest in the outside of religion, in 
the external performance of duties ; and this often most 
effectually deceives them, and more certainly ruins them, 
than open wickedness ; as it was in the Pharisees' case. 
They hear, they fast, they pray, they give alms, and there- 
fore will not believe but their state is good. Luke 18 : 11, 
12. Whereas, resting in these outward things, and coming 
short of the power of religion, all their flattering hopes and 



X6 AM I A CHRISTIAN 1 

confident persuasions of being in the way to heaven will fail 
them after death. Matt. 7: 22,23. O dreadful case, when 
a man's religion shall serve only to harden him, and effect- 
ually to deceive his soul. 

4. Self -righteousness. When persons trust in their own 
righteousness, they thereby reject Jesus for their Saviour. 
O, my dear friend, you had need be very watchful here, for 
not only your sins, but a dependence upon your duties may 
ruin you : for your trusting in your fancied righteousness 
to satisfy God's infinite justice, and thus obtain pardon, is 
putting Christ out of his office, and making a saviour of your 
own duties and performances. 

5. The reigning love of the world is a sure evidence of 
an unconverted heart. Mark 10 : 22 ; John 2 : 15. This 
sin often lurks under a fair covert of forward profession. 
Such a power of deceit is there in it, that oftentimes, when 
every one else can see the man's worldly-mindedness, he 
sees it not himself; but has so many excuses and pre- 
tences for his eagerness after the world, that he blinds his 
own eyes, and perishes in his self-deceit. 

6. Resentment against those who are thought to have in- 
jured them. Too many, that would wish to be esteemed 
religious, bear malice in their hearts, and return evil for 
evil, directly against the rule of the Gospel, the pattern of 
Christ, and the nature of God. Such persons are in the 
gall of bitterness, and a state of misery. 

Reader, doth nothing of this touch you ? Oh, search 
and search again ; take your heart solemnly to task. Woe 
is from God against you, if you be found under the power 
of wilful ignorance, resting in formality, trusting in your- 
self, drowned in worldly-mindedness, or envenomed with 
malice : if either of these is your case, you are verily an 
unconverted person. 

7. Pride. If you love the praise of men more than the 
praise of God, it is certain that you are yet in your sins. 



AM I A CHRISTIAN 1 J 7 

If you have never seen and groaned under the pride of 
your heart, you are a rebel against God, instead of being 
converted to him. This sin reigns in the hearts of many 
that know it not, and are utter strangers to themselves. 
John 9 : 40. 

8. The prevailing love of pleasure. 2 Tim. 3 : 4. The 
person that liveth in pleasure is dead to God while he 
liveth, saith the Lord. This therefore is a very black 
mark. If you will give the flesh its liberty, if you will 
pamper and please it, instead of denying and restraining it ; 
if your delight is in gratifying your senses, whatever ap- 
pearance you may have of religion, you serve not the Lord 
Jesus, but are certainly an unconverted person. Rom. 16 : 
18 ; Rom. 8:8. They that are Christ's have crucified the 
flesh, and are careful to keep it under as their enemy. Gal. 
5: 24. 

Carnal security, or a presumptuous hope that you are in 
a safe state already, is very dangerous. Many cry peace 
and safety, when destruction is coming suddenly upon 
them. Many are willing, and even resolved upon the 
slightest grounds, to cherish in themselves a hope that their 
condition is good, and therefore do not seek for any change, 
and so perish in their sins. Are you at peace ? Upon 
what grounds ? Is it a Scripture peace ? Do you bear 
upon your soul, in your temper, in your conversation, and 
your course of life, the distinguishing marks of a true be- 
liever % If not, fear this peace more than any trouble ; 
and know, that a carnal peace does generally prove the 
most mortal enemy of the soul. 

And now, conscience, do thine office. Speak out, and 
speak home to him that heareth or readeth these lines. 
If thou findest any of these marks upon him, thou must 
pronounce him utterly unclean, utterly unholy. Take not 
a lie into thy mouth, speak not peace to him, to whom 
God speaketh no peace. Let not lust bribe thee, let not 



18 AM I A CHRISTIAN 1 

self-love nor carnal prejudice blind thee. Is the man con- 
verted, or is he not ? Does he allow himself in any way of 
sin, or does he not ? Does he truly love, and prize, and 
please, and delight in God above all things, or not ? Has 
he been thoroughly convinced of sin, been taken oft' from all 
dependence on himself, and brought off from his sins to give 
himself up entirely to the Lord Jesus Christ ? Or dost thou 
find him to this day under the power of ignorance, or in the 
mire of profaneness, or a stranger to prayer, a stranger to 
God, a neglecter of the word, and a lover of this present 
world ? Dost thou find his heart fermented wifli malice, or 
burning with lust, or going after his covetousness ? Then 
set him aside ; his portion is not with the saints ; he must 
be born again, he must be converted, and made a new crea- 
ture in Christ Jesus, or else he cannot enter heaven. 

So unspeakably dreadful is the case of every uncon- 
verted soul, that it might well be thought, if one could but 
get men convinced that they are yet unregenerate, the work 
were done. But such a spirit of sloth and slumber pos- 
sesses the unsanctified, that though they are convinced that 
they are unconverted, yet they are still careless, and, 
through worldly cares and business, or through sensual 
pleasures, corrupt lusts, and inordinate affections, the voice 
of conscience is drowned, and sinners go no farther than 
some cold wishes and general purposes of repenting and 
amending. I would therefore endeavor to show you, 

IV. The misery of an unconverted state. 

1. The infinite God is against you while you are unre- 
generate and unrenewed. And, believe it, it will be found 
a most dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God, 
when his wrath is justly incensed against you. There is 
no friend like God, and there is no enemy like God. As 
much as heaven is above the earth, so much more dreadful 
will it be to fall into the hands of the living, angry God, 



AM I A CHRISTIAN 1 J9 

than into any earthly trouble. God himself will ere long 
be your tormentor; your destruction shall come from the 
presence of the Lord. Tophet, the place of punishment, is 
deep and large ; the pile thereof is fire and much wood ; 
and the breath of the Lord like a stream of brimstone doth 
kindle it. Isa. 30 : 33. And if God be against you, who 
shall be for you ? If a man sin against the Lord, who shall 
entreat, for him ? 1 Sam. 2 : 25. Sinner, does it not go 
like a dagger to thine heart, to hear that God is thine ene- 
my ? Oh, whither wilt thou go ? Where wilt thou shelter 
thyself? There is no hope for thee, unless thou layest down 
thy weapons, and suest for pardon, and gettest Christ to 
stand thy friend, and make thy peace. Mercy and salva- 
tion are now offered to you through him. But if thou wilt 
not forsake thy sins, and turn thoroughly unto the Lord, the 
wrath of God abideth on thee, and he proclaims himself to 
be against thee by Ezekiel : " Therefore, thus saith the Lord 
God, Behold I, even I, am against thee." 

2. All his attributes are against thee. His justice is 
like a flaming sword unsheathed against thee. " If I whet 
my glittering sword, and my hand take hold on judgment, I 
will render vengeance to mine adversaries, and will reward 
them that hate me; I will make mine arrows drunk with 
blood." Deut. 32: 41, 42. Divine justice is very strict; 
it must have satisfaction to the utmost farthing ; it denounces 
indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, upon every 
soul that doeth evil. It curses " every one that continueth 
not in all things which are written in the book of the law to 
do them." Gal. 3 : 10. The justice of God to the unpar- 
doned sinner, that hath a sense of his misery, is more terri- 
ble than the sight of the judge and bench to the robber, or 
of the irons and gibbet to the guilty murderer. When infi- 
nite Justice sits upon life or death, O what dreadful work 
does it make with the wretched sinner! "Bind him hand 
and foot, and cast him into outer darkness : there shall be 



20 AM I A CHRISTIAN 1 

weeping and gnashing of teeth." Matt. 22 : 13. " Depart 
from me, depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire." Matt. 
25 : 41. Think of it — by this severe justice thou must be 
tried ; and as the Lord God liveth, this killing sentence 
thou shalt hear denounced against thyself, unless thou be 
speedily converted, and born again. 

The power of the infinitely great God is against thee. 
The glory of his power will be displayed in the wonderful 
" destruction of them that know not God, and that obey not 
the Gospel." 2 Thess. 1 : 8, 9. He will make his power 
known in them, by the greatness of the sufferings he will 
inflict upon them. Rom. 9 : 22. It were better thou hadst 
all the world up in arms against thee, than to have the 
almighty power of God engaged against thee. There is no 
escaping his hands, no breaking his prison. The thunder 
of his power who can understand ! Unhappy man that 
shall understand it by feeling it ! " If he will contend with 
him, he cannot answer him one of a thousand." " He is 
mighty in strength." " Who hath hardened himself against 
him, and hath prospered ?" And wilt thou rise in opposition 
to such an almighty enemy ? O consider this, " ye that 
forget God, lest he tear you in pieces, and there be none to 
deliver you." Psalm 50 : 22. " Woe to him that striveth 
with his Maker." Isaiah 45 : 9. 

Know, O sinner, to thy terror, that all the attributes of 
the infinite God are bound together, as in an oath, to de- 
stroy thee. Heb. 3:18. And what wilt thou do ? Whither 
wilt thou flee ? If the all-seeing God can find thee out, thou 
shalt not escape. If the true and faithful God will save his 
oath, thou must perish ; and if the almighty God hath power 
to torment thee, thou shalt be perfectly miserable both in 
body and soul, to all eternity, unless thou dost turn to the 
Lord with full purpose of heart. 

The guilt of all your sins lies like a mountain upon you. 
You feel it not, yet this it is which seals your misery upon 



AM I A CHRISTIAN? 21 

you. However light you may make of sin now, you will 
one day find that the guilt of unpardoned sin is an intolera- 
bly heavy burden. Oh ! what work did it make with the 
God-man Christ Jesus. It pressed the very blood out of his 
veins, and made his heart in the midst of his body even like 
melting wax. And if it did this in the green tree, in the 
holy and innocent Saviour, what will it do in the dry, in 
you, a sinful, guilty rebel against God, who are like dry 
stubble, fit fuel for the devouring fire ? Oh, consider your 
case in time. Can you think of that threat without trem- 
bling, " Ye shall die in your sins?" John 8 : 21. Oh, it 
were better for you to die in a jail, or a dungeon, than to die 
in your sins. If death, as it will certainly take away all 
your comforts, would but take away all your sins too, it 
would be a great relief. But your sins will all follow 
you, when all your friends leave you, and all your worldly 
enjoyments are taken from you. Your sins will not die 
with you, as a prisoner's other debts will ; but they will 
all go to judgment with you, there to be your accusers; 
and they will all go to hell with you, there to be your tor- 
mentors. Oh, look over your debts in time, then ; how 
much you are in the books of every one of God's command- 
ments ; how every one of his holy laws is ready to arrest 
you. Consider, then, what will you do, when they shall 
altogether fall upon you ? Hold open the eyes of your 
conscience to think deeply of this, until you despair of your- 
self, and are driven to Christ, and made to fly for refuge to 
lay hold of the hope set before you. 

Your raging lusts do miserably enslave you. While 
you are unconverted you are the very servant of sin ; it 
reigns over you, and holds you under its dominion, till you 
are brought within the bonds of God's covenant. Now, there 
is no tyrant so cruel as sin. Would it not pierce a man's 
heart, to see a number of poor creatures drudging and toil- 
ing, and all to carry faggots and fuel for their own burning ? 
vol. iv. 3 



22 AM 1 A CHRISTIAN 7 

Yet this is the employment of the drudges of sin. Even 
when they bless themselves in their unrighteous gains ; 
while they sing and swell in pleasures, they are but treas- 
uring up wrath and vengeance for themselves, and, as it 
were, casting in oil, to make the flame rage the more 
fiercely. Who would serve such a master, whose work 
is drudgery, and whose wages is death and destruction ? 
Rom. 6 : 23. 

Though conscience is now asleep, yet when death and 
judgment shall bring you to your right senses, then you 
will feel the raging smart and anguish of every wound. 
The convinced sinner is a sensible instance of the miserable 
bondage of sin. Conscience flies upon him, and tells him 
what the end of these things will be, and yet such a slave is 
he to his lusts, that he still goes on headlong, with his eyes 
open, till he falls into infinite and everlasting destruction. 
What thinkest thou, O man, O woman, of being in hell to all 
eternity ? " Can thy heart endure, or can thy hands be 
strong, in the day that I shall deal with thee, saith the Lord 
of hosts ?" Canst thou dwell with the devouring fire ? 
when thy whole body and soul shall be as perfectly possessed 
by God's burning vengeance, as the fiery sparkling iron 
when heated in the fiercest forge ? Thou art even crushed 
and ready to wish thyself dead, under the weight of his fin- 
ger ; how then wilt thou bear the weight of his almighty 
arm ? How wilt thou endure, when immortality shall be thy 
misery, and to die the death of a brute, and be swallowed 
up in the gulf of annihilation, would be such a happiness 
as a whole eternity of wishes and an ocean of tears shall 
never purchase ? 

Now thou canst put off the evil day, and canst laugh and 
be merry, and forget the terrors of the Lord ; but how wilt 
thou endure when God shall cast thee into torments, and 
make thee lie down in endless sorrow ? In a word, when 
"the smoke of thy torments shall ascend up for ever and 



AM I A CHRISTIAN 1 23 

ever," and thou shalt have no rest, day nor night, no peace 
in thy conscience, no ease in thy bones ; but thou shalt be 
an execration, and an astonishment, and a curse, and a 
reproach for evermore. O, sinner ! stop immediately, and 
consider this dreadful condition. Do not blind thine own 
eyes; do not wilfully deceive thyself; see thy deplorable 
misery, while thou mayest prevent it ; think what it is to be 
a vessel of wrath, into which the Lord will be pouring out 
his tormenting fury while he has a being. 

And is this true indeed ? Is this thy misery ? Yes, it is 
as true as that there is a God. It is better to open thine 
eyes and see it now, while thou mayest remedy it, than to 
blind and harden thyself, till, to thy eternal sorrow, thou 
shalt feel what thou wouldst not believe. And since it is 
true, dost thou mean to loiter and linger in such a case as 
this ? O let me knock up, and awaken this sleeper. Who 
dwells within the walls of this flesh ? Is there a soul here, 
a rational understanding ? Art thou a reasonable soul, and 
yet so far brutified as to forget thyself to be immortal, and 
fancy thyself to be as the beasts that perish ? O unhappy 
soul, that wast the glory of man, the companion of angels, 
and the image of God ; that wast God's representative in the 
world, and hadst the supremacy among all the creatures 
upon earth, and the dominion over thy Maker's works here ! 
Art thou now become a slave to sense, a servant to so base 
an idol as thine appetites, for no higher felicity than to heap 
together a little earth, no more suitable to thy spiritual, im- 
mortal nature, than sticks and dirt ? O, why dost thou not 
think where thou shalt be for ever ? Death is at hand, the 
Judge is even at the door. Yet a very little while, and time 
shall be no longer. And wilt thou run the hazard of con- 
tinuing in such a state, in which if thou shouldst be overtaken, 
thou wilt be irrecoverably miserable ? 

Arise at once and take thy flight ; there is but one door, 
that thou mayest flee by, and that is the strait door of con- 



24 AM I A CHRISTIAN ? 

version. Unless thou dost unfeignedly turn from all thy 
sins, and come unto Jesus Christ, and take him for thy 
Prophet, Priest, and King, and walk in him in holiness and 
newness of life, as the Lord liveth, it is not more certain that 
thou art now out of hell, than that thou shalt without fail be 
in it, but a few days or nights hence. O do not, then, con- 
tend with God. Repent and be converted, so none of this 
shall come upon thee. " Seek the Lord while he may be 
found, and call upon him while he is near. Let the wicked 
forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and 
let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon 
him ; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon." 
Isaiah 55 : 6, 7. 

Although what has been already said of the necessity of 
conversion, and of the miseries of the unconverted, might 
be thought sufficient to induce any considerate person to re- 
solve upon immediately returning to God, yet knowing that 
the heart of fallen man is deceitful above all things, and 
desperately wicked, I find it necessary to add thereto, 

V. Some farther motives to conversion. 

The God that made you, does most graciously invite 
you. His most kind and merciful nature encourages you to 
come to him. He is full of compassion, and gracious, long- 
suffering and plenteous in mercy. Psalm 86 : 15. This 
is a great argument to persuade sinners to return: "Turn 
to the Lord your God ; for he is gracious and merciful, 
slow to anger, and of great kindness." His encouraging 
calls and j>romises do invite you. Oh, what an earnest 
suitor is mercy to you ? How lovingly does it call after 
you ! " Return, backsliding sinner, saith the Lord, and 
I will not cause mine anger to fall upon you, for I am mer- 
ciful, saith the Lord, and I will not keep anger for ever, 
only acknowledge thine iniquity. Turn, O backsliding 
soul, and I will heal your backslidings." O melting, gra- 



AM I A CHRISTIAN1 25 

cious words ! And is not your heart broken by them ? O 
that to-day you would hear and obey his voice ! 

It is to be added for your encouragement, If you will 
now return to the Lord, he will immediately settle unspeak- 
able privileges upon you. He will redeem you from the 
power of all your most inveterate sins, from the power of 
the devil, and deliver you from this present evil world. 
Prosperity shall not hurt you, and adversity shall work for 
your good. He will in due time redeem you from the 
power of the grave, and make the king of terrors a messen- 
ger of peace to you. He will save you from the arrest of 
the law, and turn the curse into a blessing to you. He 
will not only deliver you from misery, but bestow upon 
you the richest blessings. He will bestow himself upon 
you ; he will be a friend and a father unto you ; he will be 
a sun and a shield : in a word, he will be a God unto you. 
And what can be said more? As to your body, he will 
withhold from you no manner of thing that is good, that is 
necessary and expedient for you. And as to your soul, he 
will pardon your sins, accept your person and services, 
hear and answer your prayers, give you a title to glory, 
and make you meet for.it by his grace and Spirit. 

VI. If you are now made sensible of your need of con- 
version, and are become anxious for it, I conclude all with 
adding some directions in order to your obtaining it. 

1. Get a proper sense of your sins. Till you are weary 
and heavy laden, and sick of sin, you will not come to 
Christ for ease and cure. Meditate, then, upon the number 
of your sins. David's heart failed him when he thought of 
this. Look backward : where was ever the place, when 
was ever the time, in which you have not sinned ? Look 
inward : what part or power can you find, in body or soul, 
but what is poisoned with sin ? What duty did you ever 
perform which was not corrupted with iniquity ? O how 

vol. iv. 3* 



26 



AM I A CHRISTIAN ? 



great is the number of your sins ! For your soul's sake, 
my friend, no longer make light of sin ; O study the nature 
of sin, till your heart is inclined to fear and loathe it. 
Meditate on the aggravations of your particular sins, how 
you have sinned against all God's warnings, and correc- 
tions, and mercies; against all your own prayers and prom- 
ises, and resolutions, and vows, and covenants of duty and 
obedience. Charge your heart home with these things, till 
it blushes for shame, and you no longer think well of your- 
self. 

Meditate on what your sin deserves. It cries to heaven 
for vengeance against you. Its due wages is death. It 
brings the curse of God upon your soul and body. The 
least sinful word or thought lays you under the infinite 
wrath of the Almighty God. O then what a load of wrath, 
what a weight of curses, what a horrible store of vengeance 
have all the millions of your sins deserved ? Above all 
sins, fix your mind upon the sin of your nature. Study 
how deep, how lasting, how universal your original pollu- 
tion is. It is this which makes you backward to all good, 
and prone to all evil. This hath brought blindness and 
pride, prejudice and unbelief, into your heart ; enmity, 
inconstancy, and obstinacy into your will ; disorder and ir- 
regularity into your affections ; and insensibility and un- 
faithfulness into your conscience : in a word, this has put 
every power of your soul out of order, and has made it, 
instead of a habitation of holiness, a very sink of iniquity. 
This has defiled and perverted all your members, and 
turned them into instruments of unrighteousness and ser- 
vants of sin. And will you any longer talk of your good 
heart ? O never leave meditating on the desperate conta- 
gion of your original corruption, till with the deepest shame 
and sorrow you smite upon your breast, and with Job, ab- 
hor yourself, and repent in dust and ashes. 

2. Strive to a feci your heart with a deep sense of your 



AM I A CHRISTIAN? 27 

present misery. Remember when you lie down, for aught 
you know, you may awake in torments ; and remember 
when you rise up, that perhaps before the next night you 
may make your bed in hell. And are you willing to con- 
tinue in such a fearful case ? to stand tottering upon the 
brink of the bottomless pit, and to live at the mercy of every 
accident and disease that may send you into everlasting 
misery? Suppose you saw a condemned peison hanging 
over Nebuchadnezzar's burning fiery furnace by nothing 
but a thread, which was ready to break every moment, 
would not your heart tremble for him ? Thou art the man. 
This is your very case, if you are yet unconverted. And 
what if the thread of your life should break — and you 
know not but it may the next night, or the next moment — 
where would you be then ? whither would you drop ? O 
study, then, your misery, till your heart cries out for Christ, 
as earnestly as ever a drowning man did for help, or a 
wounded man for a surgeon. 

3. Settle it deeply in your mind, that you cannot jwssibly 
recover yourself. Think not that your praying, reading, 
hearing, confessing, or even amending, will work the cure. 
You must indeed attend upon these, but if you depend on 
them you will perish. You are lost and ruined for ever y if 
you continue hoping to escape by any other than Christ, 
who is "the way, the truth, and the life." 

4. In the strength of the Lord immediately renounce all 
your sins. Jf you will yield yourself to the practice of any 
sin, you will be undone. It is in vain that you hope for 
salvation from Christ, except you depart from iniquity. 
Forsake your sins, or else you cannot possibly find mercy. 
Prov. 28 : 13. Give up the traitor, or you can have no 
peace with God. Keep not Delilah on your lap ; you must 
either part with your sins, or with your soul ; spare but 
one sin, and God will not spare you. Never make ex- 
cuses ; your sins must die, or you must die .for them. If 



28 AM I A CHRISTIAN ! 

you allow of one sin, though but a little, a secret one ; 
though you plead necessity, and have many excuses for 
it ; the life of your soul must go for the life of that sin — 
and will it not be dearly bought ? 

5. Receive the Lord Jesus Christ, as your Prophet, 
Priest, and King, as proposed to you in the Gospel. O my 
friend, you ha-ve by sin destroyed yourself, but Jesus is 
able, and willing, and ready, even now to help you. He 
freely offers to save you. I testify unto you therefore this 
day, that if you perish, it is not because there was not a 
Saviour provided for you, nor salvation offered to you, but 
because, like the Jews, you preferred a murderer before 
your Saviour, and your lusts before the Lord Jesus Christ. 
Though your sins be ever so many, and ever so great, and 
of ever so long continuance, yet if you do not wretchedly 
neglect the offer of God now made to you, you shall be par- 
doned, you shall be saved ; for the mouth of the Lord God 
hath spoken it. If you perish, it is because you would not 
come to Christ for salvation. 

But Oh, for your soul's sake, be wise at length, and be 
prevailed on to accept him as your All, your Saviour from 
sin and from misery. In the name of the Lord, and in the 
strength of his Spirit, renouncing all confidence in the flesh, 
yield yourself up to him unreservedly ; solemnly join your- 
self unto the Lord in covenant to be wholly his, and glorify 
him in your body, and in your spirit, which are his ; so 
shall it be well with you in time, and well with you to all 
eternity, through the same Jesus Christ, our only Lord and 
Saviour. Amen and Amen. 



No. 107. 

LITTLE HENRY 

AMD 

HIS BEARER. 



BT MRS SHERWOOD 




WAS born at Dinapore, in the 
East Indies. His father was an 
officer in the company's service, 
and was killed in attacking a 
mud fort belonging to a petty Ra- 
jah, a few months after the birth 
of his son . His mother also died 
i before he was a year old. Thus 
| ; little Henry was left an orphan 
^ when he was a very little babe ; 
but his dying mother, when tak- 
ing her last farewell of him, lifted up her eyes to heaven, and 
said, " O God, I leave my fatherless child with thee, claim- 
ing thy promise ; for in thee the fatherless find mercy." 
Jeremiah 49:11. 



2 LITTLE HENRY 

As soon as Henry's mamma was dead, a lady, who lived 
at that time in a large brick house near the river, between 
Patna and Dinapore, came and took little Henry, and gave 
him a room in her house, giving strict orders to her servants 
to provide him with every thing that he wanted. But as 
she was one of those fine ladies who will give their money 
(when they have any to spare) for the relief of distress, 
but have no idea how it is possible for any one to bestow 
all his goods to feed the poor, and yet want charity ; she 
thought that when she had received the child, and given her 
orders to her servants, she had done all that was necessary 
for him. She would not afterwards suffer Henry to give 
her the least trouble, nor would she endure the smallest in- 
convenience on his account ; and thus the poor child, being 
very small and unable to make known his wants, might 
have been cruelly neglected, had it not been for the atten- 
tion of a hearer* who had lived many years with his papa, 
and had taken care of Henry from the day that he was 
born. 

When he was a very little babe, Boosy — for that was the 
hearer's name — attended him night and day, warmed his 
pap, rocked his cot, dressed and undressed and washed 
him, and did every thing for him as tenderly as if he had 
been his own child. The first word that little Henry tried 
to say, was Boosy ; and when he was only ten months old, 
he used to put his arms round his neck and kiss him, or 
stroke his swarthy cheek with his little delicate hand. 

When Henry was carried to the lady's house, Boosy 
went with him ; and for some years the little child had no 
other friend than his hearer. Boosy never left his little 
master, except for two hours in the twenty-four, when he 
went to get his food. At night he slept on his mat at the 

* A servant whose work it is to assist in carrying a palanquin, 
in which persons in India ride, as in a carriage ; but who is fre- 
quently employed to take care of children. 



AND HIS BEARER. 3 

foot of the child's cot; and whenever Henry called, he 
was up in a moment, and had milk or toast-and-water 
ready to give him to drink. Early in the morning, before 
sunrise, he took him out in a little carriage which was 
provided for him, or carried him in his arms round the 
garden. When he brought him in, he bathed him and 
dressed him, and gave him his breakfast, and put him in 
his cot to sleep : and all the day long he played with him ; 
sometimes carrying him in his arms, or on his back, and 
sometimes letting him walk, or roll upon the carpet. Ev- 
ery body who came to the house noticed the kindness of 
Boosy to the child, and he got a present from many people 
for his goodness to Heniy. 

When Henry was two years old, he had a dreadful ill- 
ness ; so alarming indeed was it, that for many days it was 
thought he would die. He had afterwards a very severe 
illness when he was four years old, for he was never a 
very healthy child. During the height of these sicknesses, 
his bearer never left him ; nor would he take any rest, even 
by the side of his bed, till he thought the danger was over. 

These things considered, it cannot be a matter of won- 
der that this little boy, as he grew older, should love his 
bearer more than all the world besides ; for his bearer was 
his best friend, no one else taking any thought about him. 
He could not speak English, but he could talk with Boosy 
in his language as fast as possible ; and he knew every 
word, good or bad, which the natives spoke. He used to 
sit in the verandah* between his bearer's knees and chew 
paun,-\ and eat bazar% sweetmeats. He wore no shoes nor 
stockings ; but was dressed in pangammalis,^ and had silver 
bangles^ on his ankles. No one could have told by his 

* An open gallery or passage. 

f An intoxicating mixture of opium, sugar, etc. 

\ A market. § Trowsers. 

|| Ornaments generally worn around the wrists and ankles. 



4 LITTLE HEXRY 

behavior or manner of speaking that he was not a native ; 
but his pretty light hair and blue eyes at once showed his 
parentage. 

Thus his life passed till he was five years and a half 
old : for the lady in whose house he lived, although he was 
taught to call her mamma, paid him no kind of attention ; 
and it never occurred to her that it was right to give him 
any religious instructions. He used to see his hearer and 
the other natives performing worship, and carrying about 
their wooden gods; and he knew that his mamma sometimes 
went to church at Dinapore : so he believed that there were 
a great many gods, and that the God that his mamma went 
to pray to at Dinapore was no better than the gods of wood 
and stone and clay which his hearer worshipped. He also 
believed that the river Ganges was a goddess, and called 
Gunga ; and that the water of the river would take away 
sins. He believed, too, that the Mussulmans were as good 
as Christians, for his mamma's servant had told him so. 
Besides these, he was taught by the servants many other 
things which a little boy should not know : but the servants, 
being heathen, could not be expected to teach him any thing 
better ; and therefore they were not so much to be blamed 
as the lady who had undertaken the charge of Henry, who 
might have been ashamed to leave the child of Christian 
parents under the care of such persons. 

When Henry was five years old, a young lady, who was 
just arrived from England, came to reside for a while with 
his mamma. She was the daughter of a worthy clergyman 
in England, and had received from him a religious educa- 
tion. She had brought with her from home, a box of Bibles, 
and some pretty little children's books and pictures. When 
she saw poor little Henry sitting in the passage-way, as his 
custom was, between his hearer's knees, with many other 
native servants surrounding him, she loved him, and was 
very sorry for him : for, indeed, it is a dreadful thing for 



AND HIS BEARER. 5 

little children to be left among people who know not God. 
So she took some of the prettiest colored pictures she had 
and spread them on the floor of the room, the door of which 
happened to open into the passage-way near the place 
where the little boy usually sat. When Henry peeped in 
and saw the pictures, he was tempted by them to come into 
the room ; but at first he would not venture in without his 
hearer. Afterwards, when he got more accustomed to the 
lady, he was contented that his bearer should sit at the door, 
while he went in. And at last he quite lost all fear, and 
would go in by himself; nay, he never was more happy 
than when he was with this lady ; for she tried every means 
to gain his love, in order that she might lead him to receive 
such instructions as the time of her intended stay with his 
mamma would allow her to give him. 

She was very sorry when she found that he could not 
speak English ; however, she was resolved not to be 
checked by this difficulty. She taught him many English 
words by showing him things represented in the colored pic- 
tures, telling him their English names ; so that in a short 
time he could ask for any thing he wanted in English. She 
then taught him his letters in one of the little books she had 
brought from home, and from his letters she proceeded to 
spelling : and so diligent was she, that before he was six 
years old he could spell any words, however difficult, and 
could speak English quite readily. 

While this young lady was taking pains, from day to 

day, to teach little Henry to read, she endeavored by word 

of mouth to make him acquainted with such parts of the 

Christian religion as even the youngest ought to know ; and 

without the knowledge of which no one can be a Christian : 

and she did not like to wait until Henry could read his 

Bible, before she would instruct him in subjects of so 

much importance. 

The first lesson of this kind which she strove to teach 
VOL. iv. 4 



Q LITTLE HENRY 

him, was. that there was only one true God, and that he 
made all things, namely, the glorious heaven, to which 
those persons go who have been made the children of God 
on earth ; and the dreadful hell, prepared for those who die 
in their sins ; the world, and all things in it ; the sun, the 
moon, the stars, and all the heavenly bodies. And she was 
going to teach him the following words from Colossians 1 : 
16 : " For by him were all things created that are in heaven 
and that are in earth" — but no sooner did little Henry un- 
derstand that she meant to teach him that there is but one 
God, than he got very angry, and told her that she did not 
speak a true word ; for his mamma had a God, and his 
bearer had a god, and there were a great many gods ; and 
he ran out into the passage-way and told his bearer what the 
young lady had said ; and down he sat between his bearer's 
knees, and would not come to her again that day, although 
she brought out her finest pictures and a new book, on pur- 
pose to tempt him. 

The young lady did not fail to pray very earnestly for 
little Henry that night, when she was withdrawn to her 
room, and her door shut. And her Father, on whom she 
called in secret, heard her prayer ; for the next day little 
Henry came smiling into the room, having quite forgotten 
his fit of ill-humor ; and she was now enabled to talk to 
him with advantage on the same subject. And she made 
him kneel down, and pray to God to give him sense to 
understand the truth. She had also provided herself with 
one of the Hindoo gods made of baked earth ; and she 
bade him look at it, and examine it well : she then threw 
it down upon the floor, and it was broken into an hundred 
pieces. Then she said, " Henry, what can this god do for 
you ? it cannot help itself. Call to it, and ask it to get up. 
You see it cannot move." And that day the little boy was 
convinced by her arguments. 

The next discourse which the young lady had with 



AND HIS BEARER. 7 

Henry was upon the nature of God. She taught him that 
God is a Spirit : that he is everywhere ; that he can do 
every thing ; that he can see every thing ; that he can hear 
every thing ; that he knows even the inmost thoughts of our 
hearts ; that he loves that which is good, and hates that 
which is evil ; that he never had a beginning, and never 
would have an end. 

Henry now began to take pleasure in hearing of God, 
and asked many questions about him. He next learned 
that God made the world in six clays, and rested from his 
work on the seventh ; and that he made man and woman 
innocent at first. He then was taught how our forefather 
Adam was tempted, with Eve his wife, to eat the forbidden 
fruit : and how by this means sin entering into the world, 
and the nature of Adam becoming sinful, all we his chil- 
dren, being born in his likeness, are sinful also. 

Henry here asked what sin is. 

" Sin, my child," answered the lady, " is whatever dis- 
pleases God. If your mamma were to desire you to come 
into her room, or to do something for her, and you were 
to refuse, would she not, have reason to be displeased with 
you?" 

"Yes; I suppose so." 

" Or if you ask Boosy to fan you, or to carry you in 
your palanquin, and Boosy does something quite different ; 
or if you desire him to carry you one way, and he carries 
you another ; would he not do wrong ?" 

" Yes, to be sure." 

" Well, then, whatever you do contrary to the commands 
of God, displeases him, and is sin." 

But the lady still found great difficulty in making Henry 
understand the nature of sin ; for he had been so neglected, 
that he did not know right from wrong. He did not con- 
sider a lie as sinful ; nor feel ashamed of stealing, unless 
it was found out. He thought, also, that if any body hurt 



Q LITTLE HENRY 

him, it was right to hurt them in return. After several 
days, however, she made the subject clear to him ; and then 
further explained how sin has corrupted all our hearts : 
and she made him repeat the following words till he could 
say them quite well : " The Lord looked down from heaven 
upon the children of men, to see if there were any that did 
understand, and seek God. They are all gone aside, they 
are altogether become filthy ; there is none that doeth good, 
no, not one." Psalm 14 : 2, 3. 

She next made the little boy understand that eternal 
death, or everlasting punishment, is the consequence of 
sin ; and he soon could repeat two or three verses to prove 
this : one was, " The unrighteous shall not inherit the 
kingdom of God," 1 Cor. 6:9; and another, " They shall 
look upon the carcasses of the men that have transgressed 
against me ; for their worm shall not die, neither shall 
their fire be quenched ; and they shall be an abhorring 
unto all flesh." Isaiah 66 : 24. 

And now the lady had brought Henry to know that he 
and all the world were sinners, and that the punishment 
of sin is eternal death ; and that it was not in his power 
to save himself, nor of any thing on the earth to wash him 
from his sins ; and she had brought him several times to 
ask her with great earnestness what he must do to be 
saved, and how his sins could be forgiven, and his heart 
freed from evil tempers — her next lesson, therefore, was, 
to explain to him what the Lord Jesus Christ had done for 
him ; how " God was manifest in the flesh, justified in the 
Spirit, seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles, believed 
on in the world, received up into glory," 1 Tim. 3 : 16 ; 
and how " we have redemption through his blood, he having 
made peace for us through the blood of his cross." Coloss. 
1 : 14, 20. 

Little Henry was particularly pleased whenever he heard 
of our Saviour : and, by divine grace, his heart seemed to 



AND HIS BEARER. 



9 



be wonderfully filled with love for his Redeemer ; and he 
was so afraid of offending him, that he became careful of 
every word he said, and of every thing he did ; and he was 
always asking the young lady if this was right, and if that 
was right ; and if God would be angry with him if he did 
this or that ; so that in a short time his whole behavior was 
altered. He never said a bad word, and was vexed when 
he heard any other person do it. He spoke mildly and civ- 
illy to every body. He would return the salam* of the 
poorest coolie^ in the market. If any body had given him 
a rupee,% he would not spend it in sweetmeats or playthings ; 
but he would change it into pice§ and give it to the fakeers\\ 
who were blind or lame, or such as seemed to be in real 
distress, as far as it would go. 

One day Henry came into the lady's room, and found 
her opening a box of books. "Come," said she, " Henry, 
help me to unpack these books, and to carry them to my 
bookcase." Now, while they were thus busy, and little 
Henry much pleased to think that he could make himself 
useful, the lady said, " These books have different kinds 
of covers, and some are larger than others, but they all 
contain the same words, and are the book of God. If you 
read one of these books, and keep the sayings written in 
it, it will bring you to heaven ; it will bring you to where 
your beloved Redeemer is ; to the throne of the Lamb of 
God, who was slain for your sins." 

" O, I wish," said Henry, " that I had one of these 
books ! I will give you all my playthings, ma'am, and my 
little carriage, for one of them." 

The lady smiled, and said, " No, my dear, keep your 

# Health ; salutation, f A kind of low caste of men, who have 
no trade, but work at any kind of employment. 

I A coin. § Pence. 

|| Beggars ; a religious order of men, something like monks or 
dervises. 

VOL. iv. 4* 



IQ LITTLE HENRY 

playthings, and your little carriage too : you shall have any 
one of these books you like best." 

Henry thanked the lady with all his heart, and called 
Boosy in to give his advice whether he should choose a 
book with a purple morocco cover, or one with a red one. 
When he had fixed upon one, he begged a bit of silk of 
the lady, and carried it to the tailor to make him a bag for 
his new Bible : and that same evening he came to the lady 
to beg her to teach him to read it. 

So that day he began : and he was several days over the 
first chapter of Genesis ; but the next chapter was easier, 
and the next easier still ; till very soon he was able to read 
any part of the Bible without hesitation. 

With what joy and gratitude to God did the young lady 
see the effect of her pious labors ! She had, in the space 
of a year and a half, brought a little orphan from the grossest 
state of heathen darkness and ignorance to a competent 
knowledge of those doctrines of the Christian religion which 
are chiefly necessary to salvation. She had put into his 
hand the book of God, and had taught him to read it : and 
God had, in an especial manner, answered all her prayers 
for the dear child. 

The time was now coming on very fast, when she must 
leave little Henry ; and the thoughts of this parting were 
very painful to her. Some days before she set out on 
her journey, she called him into her room, and questioned 
him concerning the things which she had taught him ; direct- 
ing him, as often as he could, to give his answers from 
the Bible. Her first question was, " How many Gods are 
there ?" 

Henry. " There is one God ; and there is none other 
but he." Mark 12: 32. 

Lady. Do we not believe that there are three Persons 
in this one God ? 

Henry. " There are three that bear record in heaven : 



AND HIS BEARER. H 

the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost ; and these three 
are one." 1 John, 5:7. 

Lady. What do you mean by the Word ? 

Henry. The Word is the Lord Jesus Christ. 

Lady. Do you know that from the Bible ? 

Henry. Yes ; for St. John says, in the first chapter 
of his Gospel, " In the beginning was the Word, and the 
Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in 
the world, and the world was made by him, and the world 
knew him not." 

Lady. Did God make man good at first 1 

Henry. Yes ; for in the first chapter of the Bible, the 
last verse, it is written, " God saw every thing that he had 
made, and behold, it was very good." 

Lady. Are men very good now ? Can you find me 
one person who deserves to be called good ? 

Henry. I need not look into the Bible to answer that 
question. I need but just get into the palanquin, and go 
into the market, and show you the people there : I am sure 
I could not find one good person in all the market. 

Lady. But I think, Henry, you might spare yourself 
the trouble of going into the market to see how bad human 
creatures are ; could you not find proofs of that nearer 
home ? 

Henry. What, our servants, you mean ? Or, perhaps, 
the ladies in the hall with my mamma ? They laughed at 
the Bible, at breakfast ; I knew what they meant very well ; 
and my mamma laughed, too : I am sure nobody can say 
that they are good. 

Lady. No, my dear ; those poor ladies are not good : 
it would be misleading you to say they are. But as we 
cannot make them better by speaking ill of them in their 
absence, it would be better not to mention them at all, 
unless it were in prayer to God that he would turn their 
hearts. But to return to my question — You need not go so 



12 LITTLE HENRY 

far as the hall for an answer to it. There is a little boy in 
this very room,, called Henry : can he be said to be a good 
boy ? A very few months ago, that little boy used to tell 
lies every day : and only yesterday I saw him in a passion, 
because the coachman would not let him get on the back of 
one of the coach-horses ; and I think, but I am not sure, 
that he gave the coachman a blow with his hand. 

Henry. I know it was very wicked ; but I had no stick 
in my hand, and therefore I hope I did not hurt him. I hope 
God will give me grace never to do so again. I gave the 
coachman all that I had left of my rupee, this morning; 
and I told him I was very sorry. 

Lady. I mentioned it, my dear, that you might know 
where to look for an answer to my question. 

Henry. Oh, I know that I am not good. I have done 
many, many naughty things, which nobody knows of; no, 
not even Boosy. And God only can know the naughtiness 
of my heart. 

Lady. Then you think yourself a great sinner. 

Henry. A very great one. 

Lady. Where do sinners go when they die ? 

Henry. " The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all 
the nations that forget God."' Psalm 9 : 17. 

Lady. If all the wicked people are turned into hell, 
how can you escape ? 

Henry. If I believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, I shall 
be saved. Stay one moment and I will show the verse. 
" Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be 
saved." Acts 16: 31. 

Lady. What! if you believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, 
shall you go to heaven with all your sins ? Can sinful 
creatures be in heaven ? 

Henry. No; to be sure not. God cannot live with 
sinners. He is "of purer eyes than to behold evil." Ha- 
bakkuk 1 : 13. But if I believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, 



AND HIS BEARER. 



13 



He will take away my sin ; for His " blood cleanseth from 
all sin," 1 John, 1:7; and he will give me a new heart, 
and make me a new creature, and I shall purify myself, as 
he is pure. 1 John, 3 : 3. 

Now the lady was pleased with little Henry's answers ; 
and she thanked God in her heart for having so blessed her 
labors with the poor little boy. But she did not praise him, 
lest he should become proud : and she well knew that " God 
resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble." James 
4:6. So she refrained from commending him; but she 
said, " What do you mean, my dear, by being made quite 
new again ?" 

Henry. Before I knew the Lord Jesus Christ, I used 
to think of nothing but naughty things. I loved myself 
more than any body else. I loved eating fruit and sweet- 
meats ; and was so greedy of them, that I would have told 
a hundred lies, I do think, for one mouthful of them. Then 
I was passionate and proud. I used to be so pleased when 
any body bowed to me, and said, "Little master." And 
you cannot think how cruel I was to all kinds of little crea- 
tures I could get hold of, even the poor cockroaches : I used 
to kill them just for my own pleasure. But now I do think 
my heart is beginning to change a little, I mean a very little, 
for I gave all my last sweetmeats to the sweeper's boy. 
But still I know that my heart is far from being clean yet ; 
but God can make it white and clean when he pleases. 

Lady. You must pray every day, and oftentimes in 
the day, and in the night, when you are awake, my dear 
child ; that God will send his Holy Spirit into your heart, 
to make it clean and pure, and to lead and direct you in all 
you do. Blessed are those, my dear child, who. love the 
Lord Jesus Christ : for unto them " the Spirit of truth " shall 
be revealed ; and it " shall dwell with them, and be in 
them." John 14 : 17. 

She then shut the door of the room ; and she and the 



14 LITTLE HEXRY 

little boy knelt down together, and prayed to God that he 
would, for his dear Son's sake, " create a clean heart in " 
the child, "and renew a right spirit within him." Psalm 
51 : 10. When the young lady arose from her knees, she 
kissed little Henry, and told him, not without many tears, 
that she must soon go away from him. 

When Henry heard this news, for some moments he 
could not speak ; at length he cried out, " What shall I do, 
when you are gone ! I shall have nobody to speak to but 
my bearer, for my mamma does not love me ; and I shall 
spend all my time with the natives. I shall never more 
hear any body talk of God. Oh, I very much fear that I 
shall become wicked again." 

" My poor child," said the lady, " do not doubt the 
power of God. When our Saviour was going to leave his 
disciples, he said, ' I will not leave you orphans ;* I will 
come to you.' John 14 : 18. And do you think, my child, 
that after the blessed Lord God has made himself known 
unto you as a dear son, that he will leave you comfortless ? 
Think how good he was to call you from the paths of de- 
struction, and from the way of hell. You knew not so much 
as his holy name, and were living altogether among the 
heathen. It was by his providence that I came here; that 
I remained here so long ; that I loved you, and endeavored 
to teach you ; and that I had a Bible to give you. ' Faithful 
is he,' my beloved child, ' who called you. He will preserve 
your whole spirit and soul and body blameless unto the 
coming of the Lord Jesus.' 1 Thess. 5 : 23, 24. She then 
sung a verse of a hymn to him ; which he often repeated, 
and would try to sing when she was far away from him. 

Jesus sought me when a stranger, 
Wandering from the fold of God ; 

He, to save my soul from danger, 
Interpos'd his precious blood.f 

* The word is orphans in the original. 

} Sung to the tune of the Sicilian Mariner's Hymn. 



AND HIS BEARER. j5 

Now it would take more time than I have to spare, to 
repeat the several conversations which this young lady had 
with little Henry before she went away. He cried sadly 
the day she went. He followed her down to the river-side ; 
for she was going to Berhampore, where she was soon after- 
wards married to a very pious young man of the name of 
Baron. 

Henry went on board the boat, to take leave of her. 
She kissed him many times before they parted ; and gave 
Boosy, who was with him, four pieces of money, that he 
might continue to behave well to his little master. The 
last words almost that she said to Henry were these : " You 
must try, my dear child, with the grace of God, to make 
Boosy a Christian ; that he may be no longer numbered 
among the heathen, but may be counted among the sons of 
God." 

When the boat was ready to sail, little Henry took his 
last leave of the lady, and came on shore ; where he stood 
under the shade of a braminee fig-tree,* watching the boat 
as it sailed down the broad stream of the Ganges, till it was 
hidden by the winding shore. Then Boosy, taking him up 
in his arms, brought him back to his mamma's house : and 
from that time he was as much neglected as he had been 
before this good young lady came ; with this difference only 
— and that indeed was a blessing for which I doubt not he 
will thank God to all eternity — that he was now able to read 
the book of God ; whereas, before, he knew not even God's 
holy name. 

Sometimes his mamma would let him eat his luncheon 
with her ; but, as she always employed herself at table — 
when not actually eating — in smoking her hookah,-\ and as 

* A tree that takes root downward from its branches. 

f A kind of pipe, the smoke of which is drawn through water, 
and the motion of the air through the water causes a bubbling 
noise. 



IQ LITTLE HENRY 

most of her visitors did the same, the luncheon time was 
very stupid to the little boy ; for instead of pleasant and 
useful discourse, there was in general nothing to be heard 
at these meals but the rattling of plates and knives and 
forks, the creaking of a large fan suspended from the ceil- 
ing, and the gurgling of water in the pipe ; except his 
mamma — which not seldom happened — occasioned a little 
variety by scolding the servants, and calling them names in 
their own language. 

So poor little Henry found no better companion than 
his bearer; and he never was more pleased than when 
he was sitting by him in the gallery, reading his Bible to 
himself. 

And now the young lady's last words returned to his 
mind, namely, " You must try to make Boosy a Christian." 
But he did not know how to begin this work : it seemed to 
him, that the heart of poor Boosy could only be changed by 
the immediate interference of God ; so fond was he of his 
wooden gods and foolish ceremonies, and so much was he 
afraid of offending his confessor. And in this respect Henry 
judged rightly; for no one can come to God without the 
help of God ; yet he has pointed out the means by which 
we must endeavor to bring our fellow-creatures to him ; 
and we must, in faith and humility, use these means, pray- 
ing for the divine blessing to render them effectual. 

The first step which Henry took towards this work, was 
to pray for Boosy. After some thought, he made a prayer, 
which was much to this purpose : " O Lord God, hear the 
humble prayer of a poor little sinful child. Give me power, 
O God, for thy dear Son's sake, who died for us upon the 
cross, to turn the heart of my poor bearer from his wooden 
gods, and to lead him to the cross of Jesus Christ." This 
prayer he never failed to repeat every night, and many 
times a day : and from time to time he used to talk to 
Boosy, and repeat to him many things which the young 



AND HIS BEARER. 



17 



lady had taught him. But although Boosy heard him with 
good-humor, yet he did not seem to pay much heed to what 
the child said, for he would argue to this purpose : " There 
are many brooks and rivers of water, but they all run into 
the sea at last ; so there are a great many religions, but 
they all lead to heaven : there is the Mussulman's way to 
heaven, and the Hindoo's way, and the Christian's way : 
and one way is as good as another." He asserted, also, 
that if he were to commit the greatest sin, and were to go 
immediately afterwards and wash in the Ganges, he should 
be quite innocent. And a great many other foolish things 
he had to say to the same purpose, so that he sometimes 
quite out-talked the child. But Henry was so earnest in 
the cause he had undertaken, that although he might be 
silenced at one time, yet he would often, after having said 
his prayer, and consulted his Bible, begin the attack again. 
He would sometimes get close to him, and look in his face, 
and say, " Poor Boosy ! Poor Boosy ! you are going the 
wrong way, and will not let me set you right : there is but 
one way to heaven ; our Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, is 
the way to heaven, and ' no man cometh unto God but by 
him.' " John 14:6. Then he would try to explain who the 
Lord Jesus Christ is : how he came down to the earth ; that 
he took man's nature upon him ; suffered and died upon the 
cross for the sins of men ; was buried and rose again on the 
third day, and ascended into heaven ; and is now sitting at 
the right hand of God, from whence he will come to judge 
the quick and the dead. 

In this manner the little boy proceeded from day to day, 
but Boosy seemed to pay him little or no attention ; nay, he 
would sometimes laugh at him, and ask him why he was so 
earnest about a thing of so little consequence ! However, 
to do Boosy justice, he never was ill-humored or disrespect- 
ful to his little master. 

Now it happened, about this time, that Henry's mamma 
vol. iv. 5 



1Q LITTLE HENRY 

had occasion to go to Calcutta ; and, as she went by water, 
she took Henry and his bearer in the boat with her. Henry 
had not been well, and she thought the change of air might 
do him good. It was at the end of the rains ; at that season 
of the year when India is most green and beautiful, although 
not most healthy. When the boat came to anchor in the 
evening, Henry used to take a walk with his bearer ; and 
sometimes they would ramble among the fields and villages 
for more than a mile from the river. Henry had all his 
life been confined to one spot ; so, you may be sure, he was 
well pleased to see so many different countries, and asked 
many questions about the things which he saw. And often, 
during these rambles, he used to have an argument with 
Boosy concerning the great Creator of all things : and 
Henry would say to his bearer, that the great God, who 
made all things, could not be like the gods which he be- 
lieved in, which, according to his accounts of them were 
more wicked and foolish than the worst men. 

Once, in particular — it was in one of those lovely places 
near the Rajamahal hills — Henry and his bearer went to 
walk. Henry's mamma had during the clay been very 
cross to him, and the poor little fellow did not feel well, 
although he did not complain ; but he was glad when he 
got out of the boat. The sun was just setting, and a cool 
breeze blew over the water, with which the little boy being 
refreshed, climbed without difficulty to the top of a little 
hill where was a tomb. Here they sat down ; and Henry 
could not but admire the beautiful prospect which was be- 
fore them. On their left hand was the broad stream of the 
Ganges, winding round the curved shore, till it was lost 
behind the Rajamahal hills. The boat, gaily painted, 
anchored just below them, and with it many smaller boats, 
with thatched and sloping roofs. The boatmen and native 
servants, having finished their day's work, were preparing 
their food, in distinct parties, according to their several 



AND HIS BEARER. 19 

castes, upon the banks of the river; some grinding their 
spices, some lighting their little fires, gome washing their 
brass vessels, and others sitting in a circle upon the ground 
smoking their cocoa-nut pipes. Before them, on the right 
hand, was a beautiful country abounding with corn-fields, 
topes of trees, thatched cottages with their little bamboo 
porches, plantain, and palm-trees ; beyond which the Ra- 
jamahal hills were seen, some bare to their summits, and 
others covered with brushwood, which even now afford a 
shelter to tigers, rhinoceroses, and wild hogs. 

Henry sat silent a long time. At last he said, "Boosy, 
this is a good country : that is, it would be a very good 
country if the people were Christians. Then they would 
not be so idle as they now are ; and they would agree to- 
gether, and clear the brushwood and build churches to wor- 
ship God in. It will be pleasant to see the people, when 
they are Christians, all going on a Sabbath morning to 
some pretty church, built among those hills, and to see 
them in an evening sitting at the door of their houses read- 
ing the shaster* — I do not mean your shaster, but our shas- 
ter— God's book." 

Boosy answered, that he knew there would be a time 
when all the world would be of one religion, and when 
there would be no caste ; but he did not know when that 
would be, and he was sure he should not live to see it. 

" There is a country now,"' said Henry, "where there 
are no castes ; and where we all shall be like dear brothers. 
It is a better country than this : there are no evil beasts ; 
there is no more hunger, no more thirst ; there the waters 
are sure ; there the sun does not scorch by day, nor the 
moon smite by night. It is a country to which I some- 
times think and hope I shall go very soon ; I wish, Boosy, 
you would be persuaded either to go with me, or to follow 
me." 

* The Hindoo religious books. 



20 LITTLE HENRY 

" What \" said Boosy, " is little master going to Eng- 
land V And then he said he hoped not ; for he could 
never follow him. 

Henry then explained to him, that he did not mean 
England, but heaven. " Sometimes I think," said he, 
" when I feel the pain which I did this morning, that I shall 
not live long ; I think I shall die soon, Boosy. O, I wish, 
I wish I could persuade you to love the Lord Jesus Christ !" 
And then Henry, getting up, went to Boosy, and sat down 
upon his knee, and begged him to be a Christian. " Dear 
Boosy," said he, "good Boosy, do try to be a Christian." 
But poor little Henry's attempts were yet quite ineffectual. 

In little more than a month's time from their leaving 
Dinapore, they reached Calcutta, and were received into 
the house of a worthy gentleman of the name of Smith. 

When Henry's mamma was settled in Mr. Smith's 
house she found less inclination, if possible, than ever, to 
pay any attention to Henry. According to the custom of 
India, she must pay the first visit to all her acquaintance in 
Calcutta. Her dresses, too, having all been made at Dina- 
pore, did not agree with the last European fashions which 
were come out : these were all to be altered, and new ones 
bought ; and it was a good deal of trouble to direct the tai- 
lor to do this properly. Her hair was not dressed in the 
fashion : and her ayah* was very stupid ; it was many 
days before she could forget the old way and learn the 
new one. So poor Henry was quite forgotten in all this 
bustle ; and although he was for several days very ill, and 
complained to his bearer that his side gave him great pain, 
yet his mamma never knew it. 

Mr. and Mrs. Smith once or twice remarked, when they 
looked at Henry, that the child was very pale, and that his 
eyes were heavy : but his mamma answered, " O, it's 

* A waiting-maid. 



AND HIS BEARER. 21 

nothing ; the child is well enough ; children in India, you 
know, have that look." 

It happened one afternoon, as Mr. and Mrs. Smith and 
Henry's mamma were in the drawing-room after luncheon, 
while the ladies were giving their opinion upon a magazine 
which contained an account of the last European fashion of 
carriages and dresses, etc. — for I am sorry to say that Mrs. 
Smith, although she had the best example in her husband, 
had still to learn not to love the world — Mr. Smith half 
angry with them, and yet not knowing whether he should 
presume to give them a check, was walking up and down 
the room with rather a hasty step ; when his eye, as he 
passed the door, caught little Henry sitting on the mat at 
the head of the stairs, between his bearer's knees, with his 
Bible in his hand. His back being turned towards the 
drawing-room door, Mr. Smith had an opportunity of ob- 
serving what he was about, without being seen : he accord- 
ingly stood still, and listened ; and he heard the gentle voice 
of Henry, as he tried to interpret the sacred book to his 
bearer in the bearer's own language ! 

Mr. Smith at first could scarcely believe what he saw 
and heard ; but, at last, being quite sure he was not 
dreaming, he turned hastily towards the ladies, exclaiming, 
" Twenty-five years have I been in India, and never have 
I seen any thing like this. Heaven be praised ! truly it is 
written, ' Out of' the mouths of babes and sucklings thou 
hast perfected praise.' Matt. 21 : 16. For shame ! for 
i shame ! Mrs. Smith, will you never lay aside your toys and 
gewgaws ? Do give me that book, and I will let the cook 
have it to light his fire with. Here are two persons, who 
have been nearly fifty years in the world, sitting together 
talking of their finery and painted toys ; while a little crea- 
ture, who eight years ago had not breathed the breath of 
life, is endeavoring to impart divine knowledge to the hea- 
then. ' But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world 
VOL. IV. 5* 



22 LITTLE HENRY 

to confound the wise ; and God hath chosen the weak things 
of the world to confound the things which are mighty.' " 
1 Cor. 1 : 27. 

" My dear," cried Mrs. Smith, " surely you forget your- 
self! What can you mean ? Toys and finery — my dear, 
my dear, you are very rude !" 

" Rude !" said Henry's mamma, " rude indeed ! Mr. 
Smith — and pray, sir, what do you mean by saying, ' fifty 
years V Do you suppose that I am fifty years old ? Ex- 
traordinary indeed !" 

"I beg pardon," said Mr. Smith. "I did not mean to 
offend — but there is that little boy trying to explain the 
Bible to his bearer." 

"But, surely," said Henry's mamma, "you do not 
think that I am fifty years of age ? — you are mistaken by 
twenty years." 

Mrs. Smith. O ! my dear madam, you must excuse 
my husband. Whenever he is a little angry with me, he 
tells me that I am getting old. But I am so used to it that 
I never mind it. 

Mr. Smith. Well, my dear ; leave me, if you please, 
to speak for myself. I am not a man that disguises the 
truth. Whether I speak or not, time runs on, death and 
eternity approach. 1 do not see why it should be a matter 
of politeness to throw dust into each other's eyes. But 
enough of this, and too much. I want to know the meaning 
of what I but now saw ; a little English child, seven years 
of age, endeavoring to explain the Bible to his bearer. I 
did not even know that the child could read. 

" O," said Henry's mamma, " this matter is easily ex- 
plained. I had a young lady at my house at Patna, some 
time since, who taught the child to read : for this I was 
obliged to her. But she was not satisfied with that alone ! 
she made an enthusiast, a downright canting enthusiast of 
the boy. I never knew it till it was too late. 



AND HIS BEARER. 23 

Mr. Smtth. An enthusiast? What do you mean, 
madam ? 

" Indeed," said Henry's mamma, "the child has never 
been himself since. Captain D of the native in- 
fantry, when they were quartered at Dinapore, used to 
have such sport with him ! He taught him, when he was 
but two years old, to call the dogs and the horses, and to 
swear at the servants in English. But I shall offend Mr. 
Smith again," she added ; " I suspect him a little of being 
a religious enthusiast himself. Am I right, Mrs. Smith?" 
and she laughed at her own wit. But Mrs. Smith looked 
grave ; and Mr. Smith lifted up. his eyes to heaven, saying, 
" May God Almighty turn your heart !" 

" O, Mr. Smith," said Henry's mamma, " you take the 
matter too seriously : I was only speaking in jest." 

" I shall put that to the trial, madam," said Mr. Smith. 
" If you really feel no ill-will against religion, and people 
who call themselves religious, you will not refuse to let me 
consider Henry as my pupil while you remain in my house, 
which I hope will be as long as you can make it convenient. 
You have known me some years — I will not say how many, 
lest you should be angry again — and you will make allow- 
ances for my plain dealing." 

" Well," said Henry's mamma, " we know you are an 
oddity ; take your own way, and let me take mine." So 
she got up to dress for the evening airing on the course : 
and thus this strange conversation ended in good-humor; 
for she was not, upon the whole, an ill-tempered woman. 

The same evening, his mamma being gone out, Mr. 
Smith called Henry into his own room ; and learned from 
him all that he could tell of his own history, and of the 
young lady who taught him to read his Bible, and had ad- 
vised him to try to make Boosy a Christian. I will relate 
to you the last part of this discourse which passed between 
Mr. Smith and Henry. 



24 LITTLE HENRY 

Mr. Smith. Do you think that Boosy's heart is at all 
turned towards God ? 

Henry. No, I do not think that it is ; although for the 
last half year I have been constantly talking to him about 
God ; but he still will have it that his own idols are true 
gods. • 

Mr. Smith. It is almost dangerous, my dear little boy, 
for a child like you to dispute with a heathen : for although 
you are in the right, and he in the wrong, yet Satan, who 
is the father of lies, may put words into his mouth which 
may puzzle you ; so that your faith may be shaken, while 
his remains unchanged. 

Henry. Oh, sir, must I give up the hope of Boosy's 
being made a Christian ? Poor Boosy ! he has taken care 
of me ever since I was born. 

Mr. Smith. But suppose, my dear boy, that I could 
put you in a better way of converting Boosy ; a safe way to 
yourself, and a better for him ? Can Boosy read ? 

Henry. Only a very little, I believe. 

Mr. Smith. Then you must learn to read for him. 

Henry. How, sir ? 

Mr. Smith. If I could get for you some of the most 
important chapters in the Bible, such as the first chapters 
of Genesis, which speak of the creation of the world and the 
fall of man, with the first promise of the Saviour, and some 
parts of the Gospel, translated into Boosy's language, would 
you try to learn to read them to him ? I will teach you the 
letters, or characters, as they are called, in which they will 
be written. 

Henry. O, I will learn them with joy. 

Mr. Smith. Well, my boy, come every morning into 
my study, and I will teach you the Persian characters ; for 
those are what will be used in the copy of the chapters I 
shall put into your hands. Some time or other, the whole 
Bible will be translated in this manner. 



AND HIS BEARER. 25 

Henry. Will the words be Persian, sir? I know 
Boosy does not understand Persian. 

Mr. Smith. No, my dear ; the words will be the same 
as those you speak every day with the natives. When you 
have as much of the Bible as I can get prepared for you 
in this manner, you must read it to your bearer every day, 
praying continually that God will bless his holy word to 
him. And never fear, my dear, but that the word of God 
will do its work ; " for as the rain cometh down, and the 
snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth 
the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may 
give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater ; so shall 
my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth : it shall not 
return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I 
please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it." 
Isaiah 55 : 10, 11. " But do not, my dear boy," added Mr. 
Smith, " argue and dispute with your bearer about religion ; 
you are not able. Only read the Bible to him, and pray 
for him continually, leaving the rest with God." 

But not to make my story too long ; while Henry's 
mamma remained at Calcutta, which was more than a 
year, Henry received a lesson every day from Mr. Smith 
in his study ; and Mr. Smith taught him the Persian char- 
acters, and provided him with as many chapters in the Bible 
in Hindostanee as he could get properly prepared in so short 
a time : these he had bound in red morocco, and presented 
them to Henry, not without asking the blessing of God upon 
them. 

How delighted was Henry when he received the book, 
and found that he could read it easily ! He was in his 
place on the mat between Boosy's knees in a minute, and 
you might have heard him reading from one end of the 
house to the other, for he could not contain himself for 
joy. Nor was he contented with reading himself, he must 
make Boosy learn to read it too. And this was brought 



26 LITTLE HENRY 

about much sooner than you would have supposed it pos- 
sible ; for as Henry learned the Persian letters from day to 
day of Mr. Smith, he had been accustomed afterwards to 
write them on a slate, and make Boosy copy them as they 
sat together ; and so by degrees he taught them all to his 
hearer before he was in possession of the Hindostanee copy 
of the chapters. 

" Now, my boy," said Mr. Smith, " you are in the safe 
way of giving instruction in an ancient path cast up by 
God. Jer. 18 : 15. Do not trust to the words of your own 
wisdom, but to the word of God. Hold fast to the Scripture, 
dear boy, and you will be safe. And be not impatient, if 
the seed you sow should not spring up immediately : some- 
thing tells me I shall see Boosy a Christian before I die : or 
if I do not see that day, he that outlives me will." 

Now the time arrived, when Henry's mamma was to 
leave Calcutta. Indeed, she had stayed much longer there 
than she had at first proposed ; but there were so many 
amusements going forward ; so much gay company ; so 
many fashionable dresses to purchase ; that she could not 
find in her heart to leave them, although she was heartily 
tired of Mr. Smith's company. She respected him, indeed, 
as an old friend and worthy man ; but he had such par- 
ticular ways, she said, that sometimes she had difficulty to 
put up with them. 

She proposed, as she went up the country, to stop at 
Berhampore, to see Mrs. Baron. When Henry heard of 
this, he was greatly pleased ; yet when he came to take 
leave of Mr. Smith, he cried very much. 

As they went up the river, Henry took every opportu- 
nity of reading his chapters to his bearer, when his mamma 
could not hear him : and he had many opportunities early 
in the morning, and in the afternoon when his mamma was 
asleep, as she always slept for an hour after luncheon. 
And he proceeded very well indeed, Boosy daily improving, 



AND HIS BEARER. 27 

at least in the knowledge of the Bible, till, the weather sud- 
denly becoming excessively hot, Henry was seized with a 
return of violent pain in his side, and other very bad symp- 
toms. He became paler and thinner, and could not eat. 
His mamma, having no company to divert her, soon took 
notice of the change in the child, and began to be fright- 
ened ; and so was his bearer. So they made all the haste 
they could to Berhampore, that they might procure advioe 
from the doctors there, and get into a cool house ; for the 
boat was excessively hot : but notwithstanding all the haste 
which they made, there was a great change in the poor little 
boy before they reached Berhampore. 

When they were come within a day's journey of the 
place, they sent a servant forward to Mrs. Baron's ; so 
that, when the boat anchored next day near the canton- 
ments, Mrs. Baron herself was waiting on the shore with 
palanquins ready to carry them to her house. As soon as 
the board was fixed from the boat to the bank of the river, 
she jumped out of her palanquin, and was in the boat in a 
minute, with little Henry in her arms. " O, my dear boy !" 
she said, " my dear, dear boy !" She could say no more, 
so great was her joy ; but when she looked at him and saw 
how very ill he appeared, her joy was presently damped ; 
and she said, in her haste, to his mamma, " Dear madam, 
what is the matter with Henry ? he looks very ill." 

"Yes," said his mamma, "I am sorry to say that he is 
very ill : we must lose no time in getting advice for him." 

" Do not cry, dear Mrs. Baron," said little Henry, see- 
ing the tears running down her cheeks ; " we must all die, 
you know we must, and death is very sweet to those who 
love the Lord Jesus Christ." 

" O, my child," said his mamma, " why do you talk of 
dying ? You will live to be a judge yet, and we shall see 
you with seven silver sticks before your palanquin.'' 

" I do not wish it, mamma," said Henry. 



28 LITTLE HENRY 

The more Mrs. Baron looked at Henry, the more she 
was affected. For some moments she could not speak, or 
command her feelings at all : but after having drank a little 
water she became more composed, and proposed that they 
should all immediately remove to her house. And when 
she found herself shut up in her palanquin, she prayed ear- 
nestly to God, that whether the sweet child lived or died, he 
might not be taken from. her in this sickness; but that she 
might, with the help of God, administer holy nourishment to 
his immortal soul, and comfort to his little weak body. 

When they were arrived at Mrs. Baron's house, she 
caused Henry to be laid on a sofa by day in the sitting- 
room, and at night in a room close by her own. The chief 
surgeon of the station was immediately sent for, and every 
thing was done for little Henry that the tenderest love 
could suggest. 

Berhampore happened at that time to be very full ; and 
Henry's mamma, finding many of her old acquaintance 
there, was presently so deeply engaged in paying and re- 
ceiving visits, that she seemed again almost entirely to 
forget Henry, and all her concern about him ; comforting 
herself, when she was going to a great dinner or ball, that 
Mrs. Baron would be with him, and he would be well 
taken care of. But it is a poor excuse to make for our 
neglect of duty, and one that I fear will not stand at the 
day of judgment, to say that there are others that will do it 
as well for us. 

Notwithstanding all the surgeon could do, and all the 
care of Mrs. Baron, Henry's illness increased upon him; 
and every one had reason to think that the dear little fel- 
low's time on earth would soon come to an end. Mr. and 
Mrs. Baron were by turns his almost constant nurses : 
when one left him, the other generally took the place by 
his couch. It was very interesting to see a fine lively young 
man, like Mr. Baron, attending a little sick child ; some- 



AND HIS BEARER. 29 

times administering to him his food or medicine, and some- 
times reading the Bible to him — but Mr. Baron feared God. 

When Henry first came to Berhampore, he was able to 
take the air in an evening in a palanquin, and could walk 
about the house ; and two or three times he read a chapter 
in the Hindostanee Bible to Boosy : but he was soon too 
weak to read, and his airings became shorter and shorter. 
He was at last obliged to give them quite up, and to take en- 
tirely to his couch and bed, where he remained until his death. 

When Boosy saw that his little master's end was draw- 
ing on, he was very sorrowful, and could hardly be persuaded 
to leave him night or day, even to get his food. He did 
every thing he could think of to please him, and more, as 
he afterwards said, to please his dying master, than his 
God : he began to read his chapters with some diligence ; 
and little Henry would lie on his couch, listening to Boosy 
as he read (imperfectly indeed) the word of God in Hin- 
dostanee^ Often he would stop him to explain to him what 
he was reading ; and very beautiful sometimes were the 
remarks which he made, and better suited to the under- 
standing of his bearer than those of an older or more learned 
person would have been. 

The last time that his bearer read to him, Mrs. Baron 
sitting by him, he suddenly stopped him, saying, " Ah, 
Boosy, if I had never read the Bible, and did not believe 
in it, what an unhappy creature should I now be ! for in a 
very short time I shall 'go down to the grave to come up 
no more,' Job 7:9; that is, until my body is raised at the 
last day. When I was out last, I saw a very pretty bury- 
ing-ground with many trees about it. I knew that I should 
soon lie there ; I mean that my body would : but I was not 
afraid, because I love my Lord Jesus Christ, and I know 
that he will go down with me unto the grave ; I shall sleep 
with him, and ' I shall be satisfied when I awake with his 
likeness.'" Psalm 17 : 15. He then turned to Mrs. Baron, 
vol. rv. 6 



30 LITTLE HENRY 

and said, " ' I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he 
shall stand at the latter day upon the earth ; and though 
after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh 
shall I see God.' Job 19: 25, 26. O, kind Mrs. Baron! 
who, when I was a poor sinful child, brought me to the 
knowledge of my dear Redeemer ; anointing me with sweet 
ointment — even his precious blood — for my burial, which 
was soon to follow." 

" Dear child !" said Mrs. Baron, hardly able to preserve 
her composure, " dear child ! give the glory to God." 

" Yes, I will glorify him for ever and ever," cried the 
poor little boy ; and raised himself up in his couch, joining 
his small and taper fingers together : " yes, I will praise 
him, I will love him. I was a grievous sinner ; every im- 
agination of the thought of my heart was evil continually ! 
I hated all good things ; I hated even my Maker : but he 
sought me out ; he washed me from my sins in his own 
blood ; he gave me a new heart ; he has clothed me with 
the garments of salvation, and hath put on me the robe of 
righteousness ; he ' hath abolished death, and brought life 
and immortality to light.'" 2 Tim. 1 : 10. Then turning 
to his bearer, he said, " O my poor bearer! what will become 
of you, ' if you neglect so great salvation V " Hebrews 2 : 3. 
" O Lord Jesus Christ," he added, " turn the heart of my 
poor bearer /" This short prayer, which little Henry made 
in Hindostanee, his bearer repeated, scarcely knowing what 
he was doing. And this, as he afterwards told Mr. Smith, 
was the first prayer he had ever made to the true God — 
the first time he had ever called upon his holy name. 

Having done speaking, little Henry laid his head down 
on his pillow, and closed his eyes. His spirit was full of 
joy indeed, but his flesh was weak ; and he lay some hours 
in a kind of slumber. When he awoke, he called Mrs. 
Baron, and begged her to sing the verse of the hymn he 
loved so much, "Jesus sought me," etc., which she had 



AND HIS BEARER. 3 \ 

taught him at Dinapore. He smiled while she was singing, 
but did not speak. 

That same evening, Boosy being left alone with his little 
master, and seeing that he was wakeful and inclined to 
talk, said, " I have been thinking all day that I am a sinner, 
and always have been one; and I begin to believe. that my 
sins are such as Gunga cannot wash away. I wish I could 
believe in the Lord Jesus Christ !" 

When Henry heard this, he strove to raise himself up, 
but was unable, on account of his extreme weakness ; yet 
his eyes sparkled with joy ; he endeavored to speak, but 
could not ; and at last he burst into tears. He soon, how- 
ever, became more composed, and pointing to his bearer to 
sit down on the floor by his couch, he said, "Boosy, what 
you have now said makes me very happy ; I am very, very 
happy to hear you call yourself a sinner, and such an one 
as Gunga cannot make clean. It is Jesus Christ who has 
made this known to you ; he has called you to come unto 
him. Faithful is he that calleth you. I shall yet see you, 
my poor bearer, ' in the general assembly and church of the 
first-born.' Hebrews 12 : 23. You were kind to me, when 
my own father and mother were dead. The first thing I 
can remember, is being carried by you to the Mango tope, 
near my mamma's house at Patna. Nobody loved me then 
but you; and could I go to heaven, and leave you behind 
me in the way to hell ? I could not bear to think of it ! 
Thank God ! I knew he would hear my prayer ; but I 
thought that perhaps you would not really become a Chris- 
tian till I was gone. When I am dead, Boosy," added the 
little boy, " do you go to Mr. Smith at Calcutta. I cannot 
write to him, or else I would ; but you shall take him one 
lock of my hair — I will get Mrs. Baron to cut it off and put 
it in a paper — and tell him that I sent it. You must say 

that Henry L , that died at Berhampore, sent it with 

this request, that good Mr. Smith would take care of his 



32 LITTLE HE.NRY 

poor hearer, when he has lost caste for becoming a Christian." 
Boosy would have told Henry that he was not quite deter- 
mined to be a Christian, and that he could not think of losing 
caste ; but Henry, guessing what he was going to say, put 
his hand upon his mouth. " Stop ! stop !" he said ; " do 
not say words which will make God angry, and which you 
will be sorry for by and by : for I know you will die a 
Christian. God has begun a good work in you, and I am 
certain that he will finish it." 

While Henry was talking to his bearer Mrs. Baron had 
come into the room : but, not wishing to interrupt him, she 
had stood behind his couch ; but now she came forward. 
As soon as he saw her, he begged her to take off his cap, 
and cut off some of his hair, as several of his friends wished 
for some. She thought that she would endeavor to comply 
with his request. But when she took off his cap, and his 
beautiful hair fell about his pale, sweet face; when she con- 
sidered how soon the time would be when the eye that hath 
seen him shall see him no more ; she could not restrain her 
feelings ; but throwing down the scissors, and putting her 
arm round him, " O my child ! my dear, dear child !" she 
said, " I cannot bear it ! I cannot part with you yet !" 

The poor little boy was affected : but he gently reproved 
her, saying, " ' If you love me, you will rejoice, because I go 
to my Father.' " John 14 : 28. 

There was a considerable change in the child during the 
night : and all the next day till evening he lay in a kind of 
slumber ; and when he was roused to take his medicine or 
nourishment, he seemed not to know where he was, or who 
was with him. In the evening he suddenly revived, and 
asked for his mamma. He had seldom asked for her before. 
She was in the house, for she was not so hard-hearted — 
thoughtless as she was — as to go into gay company at this 
time, when the child's death might be hourly expected. 
She trembled much when she heard that he asked for her. 



AND HIS BEARER. 33 

She was conscious, perhaps, that she had not fulfilled her 
duty to him. He received her affectionately, when she 
went up to his bedside, and begged that every body would 
go out of the room, saying that he had something very par- 
ticular to speak about. He talked to her for some time, but 
nobody knows the particulars of their conversation ; though 
it is believed that the care of her immortal soul was the 
subject of the last discourse which this dear little boy held 
with her. She came out of his room with her eyes swelled 
with crying, and his little well-worn Bible in her hand — 
which he had probably given her, as it always lay on the 
bed by him — and shutting herself in her room, she remain- 
ed without seeing any one, till the news was brought that 
all was over. From that time she never gave her mind so 
entirely to the world as she had formerly done ; but became 
a more serious character, and daily read little Henry's Bible. 

But now to return to little Henry. As there are but few 
persons who love to meditate upon the scenes of death, and 
too many are only able to view the gloomy side of them, 
instead of following, by the eye of faith, the glorious prog- 
ress of the departing saint, I will hasten to the end of my 
story. The next day, at twelve o'clock, being Sunday, he 
was delivered from this evil world, and received into glory. 
His passage was calm, although not without some mortal 
pangs. " May we die the death of the righteous, and may 
our last end be like his." Num. 23 : 10. 

Mr. and Mrs. Baron and his bearer attended him to the 
last moment, and Mr. Baron followed him to the grave. 

Some time after his death his 'mamma caused a monu- 
ment to be built over his grave, on which was inscribed 
his name, Henry L****** 5 and his age, which at the time 
of his death was eight years and seven months. Under- 
neath was a part of his favorite verse, from 1st Thessalo- 
nians, 5, altering only one word : " Faithful is he that called 

lee 
6< 



34 



LITTLE HENRY 



this verse, from James 5 : 20 : " He which converteth a sin- 
ner from the error of his way shall save a soul from death, 
and shall hide a multitude of sins." 

When I first visited Berhampore, I went to see little 
Henry's monument. It was then white and fair, and the 
inscription very plain ; but I am told that the damp of the 
climate has so defaced the inscription, and blackened the 
whole monument, that it cannot be distinguished from the 
tombs which surround it. But this is of little consequence, 
as all who remember Henry L have long ago left Ber- 
hampore ; and we are assured, that this dear child has him- 
self received " an inheritance that fadeth not away." 1 Pet. 
1:4. " The world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but 
he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever." 1 John, 2 : 17. 

Every person who reads this story will, I think, be anx- 
ious to know what became of Boosy. Immediately after 
the funeral of his little master, having received his wages, 
with a handsome present, he carried the lock of hair, which 
Mrs. Baron sealed up carefully, with a letter from her to 
Mr. Smith. He was received into Mr. Smith's family, and 
removed with him to a distant part of India ; where shortly 
after, he renounced caste, and declared himself a Christian. 
After due examination, he was baptized, and continued till 
his death, which happened not long after, a sincere Chris- 
tian. It was on the occasion of the baptism of Boosy, to 
whom the Christian name of John was given, that the last 
verse was added to the monument of little Henry. 

From Mrs. Baron and Mr. Smith, I gathered most of the 
anecdotes relative to the history of Henry L . 

Little children in India, remember Henry L , and 

"go, and do likewise." Luke 10 : 37. For " they that be 
wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament : and 
they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever 
and ever." Dan. 12 : 3. 



AND HIS BEARER. 35 

LITTLE CHILDREN IN AMERICA, 

Think on Henry L , and go and do likewise. He 

was born among ignorant heathen, those who worshipped 
the rivers, the stones, and the images they had made. You 
live in a Christian land, where the true God, he who dwells 
in the heavens, and who knows every thing you say and do, 
is adored. Little Henry was an orphan ; he had a kind 
friend to watch over and protect him ; a compassionate 
stranger informed him about religion and the way to heaven, 
and gave him a Bible, the book of God. You have parents 
and instructors to tell you of right and wrong, how to love 
God and keep his commandments, and you are early taught 
to read his word. Did, then, this little child hearken to what 
was told him, and read God's holy book ? Did he strive 
also to cause his poor bearer to leave his false gods, and turn 
from them to love and serve the one only true God ? When, 
therefore, your parents and friends would restrain you from 
what is wrong, and prompt you to the exercise of what is 
right ; when they would urge upon you the necessity of 
religion, and of reading that book which contains the words 
of eternal life ; or whensoever you yourselves have an op- 
portunity of reproving others around you, who are living 
without God in the world, and who regard not his holy com- 
mandments, think how Henry L would have done, and 

go and do likewise. 

My young friends, Henry was only one of the many 
destitute children in that heathen land. Thousands are 
there now, who have no kind lady to instruct them, and 
who I fear will never be thus favored, and hear of Christ 
and God. You perceive what pleasure it gave him to be 
told of these things, and how glad he was to receive a 
Bible. Think what he would have done, and how dreadful 
must have been his situation, when sick and dying, had he 
not met with the compassionate lady. 



36 LITTLE HENRY AND HIS BEARER. 

Now you have heard of Missionaries. These are pious 
and benevolent persons, who leave their beloved friends 
and their native shores to go to those distant countries, and 
carry Bibles to such poor children as little Henry, and tell 
them about religion. Should you not like to send a Bible 
to those destitute children 1 or to do something to let them 
know that there is a God ? Suppose you were in little 
Henry's country, and some kind persons should send one 
to instruct you and bring you good books \ would you not 
feel very grateful to them 1 

You are small now, and much is not to be expected of 
you. But remember, should every one do but little, yet, 
in the whole, much would be done. There are those who 
are willing to leave their country to make known to the 
heathen the existence of God, and the way of salvation by 
his Son Jesus Christ, and convey to them his holy word ; 
and they wait only for means to enable them to go. Let 
then every one, who, in reading this little Tract, felt pity 
towards Henry in his forsaken state, and rejoiced when he 
found a friend to instruct and comfort him, do something 
towards sending them. 

Remember also, dear children, that although you are 
now young and dependent upon others, you are daily grow- 
ing older. Your parents and friends will soon be gone, and 
you will stand in their places ; property will be at your own 
disposal, and you will have the direction of whatever con- 
cerns the church and your country. In after life, therefore, 
whenever any measure is proposed for the benefit of the 
heathen, whenever your assistance is asked to promote in 

any way this important cause, think how little Henry L 

of Dinapore would have done, and go and do likewise. Ver- 
ily, I say unto you, you shall not lose your reward. 

O" An incidental confirmation of this narrative, from Mr. Money, 
an English gentleman, late a resident in India, may be found on the 
cover. 



No. 108. 



TRUE PROPHECIES. 




SEE PAGE 11. 



Every person is eager to know what shall happen to 
himself and to his connections in future, and what events 
shall occur in the world ; and there are many events of a 
most interesting and important nature, which any wise man 
may foretell. I shall therefore endeavor to look into futu- 
rity, for the purpose of stating what shall befall some of the 
readers of this Tract. 



I see a person whom God in his providence has blest 
with a good constitution, good health, and a comfortable 
subsistence in life. Such a person's circumstances are al- 
most enviable ; for he is exempted from the cares of riches 



2 TRUE PROPHECIES. 

and the troubles of poverty. But I see that this person is 
thankless for the good which he enjoys ; he seldom bows 
his knees before God, morning or evening ; he never thinks 
it worth his while to reverence God's Sabbath, or to obey 
his commands, by attending on public religious worship. 
Providence has blest him with a kind of independence in 
the world, and he foolishly and wickedly lives as if he were 
independent of God himself. 

I have, therefore, to prophesy to thee, man, that safe, 
quiet, easy, and independent as thy circumstances seem to 
be, if thou livest and actest as thou hast done, thou mayest 
expect a sad reverse, when it shall please God to deal 
righteously with thee. What saith the Scriptures ? " Man 
knoweth not his time ; as the fishes are taken in an evil 
net, and as the birds are caught in the snare, so are the 
sons of men snared in an evil time, when it falleth suddenly 
upon them." Eccles. 9 : 12. Thy evil time may soon 
come. Thou art ensnaring thyself by thine ingratitude and 
disobedience to God, who hath given thee so many bless- 
ings ; and if thou goest on to provoke him, he may even 
"curse thy blessings;" thy change may be sudden, and 
thy destruction terrible ! " Give glory, therefore, to the 
Lord thy God," by fearing and serving him, " before he 
cause darkness, and before thy feet stumble upon the dark 
mountains ; and while thou lookest for light, he turn it into 
the shadow of death." Jer. 13 : 16. 



Who is this that I see coming out of the ale-house, with 
his face red, not as it ought to be, with shame, but with 
drunkenness 1 His confused head is utterly unfit for any 
business ; his tottering steps are directed towards another 
ale-house ; and hour after hour will pass, before he enters 



TRUE PROPHECIES. 3 

his own habitation, that he may there sleep away his intem- 
perance ! Poor man ! his pockets are empty ; he will be 
unable to work to-morrow, and his habit of drinking, will 
make him more and more averse to honest labor ! 

Without any hazard of mistake, I have a prophecy con- 
cerning this man : That if he continue in this shameful and 
awful course, he will soon bring his family to poverty, and 
himself to the grave ! Ah ! has the sight of his wife and 
children in tears for his misconduct, no effect on him ? 
Have their sad forebodings, and their fears of speedy ruin, 
often, very often expressed, made no impression on his 
mind ? Does the prospect of a jail and of an opening grave 
for himself, and of the workhouse for his wife and children, 
bring upon him no misgivings that his case is desperate ; 
no repentance, no reformation of conduct ? Let him hear, 
therefore, what the Scriptures say : " The drunkard and 
the glutton shall come to poverty." " At the last," drunk- 
enness " biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder !" 
Prov. 23 : 21-32. " Be not deceived ; drunkards shall not 
inherit the kingdom of God." 1 Cor. 6 : 9, 10. This is a 
description of thy case ; and this must be thy portion, O 
drunkard, unless thou repent. 



This is the Sabbath. The laws of God and the laws of 
the land ordain that it be kept holy ; and various places 
are opened for the worship of God, and the instruction 
and gratification of all who love his service and obey his 
commands. But, with great pain, I see a number of chil- 
dren playing in the streets and in the fields, and hear them 
shouting and revelling, in a manner disgraceful to them- 
selves and their parents, and dishonorable to Jesus Christ, 
who is " Lord of the Sabbath." 



4 TRUE PROPHECIES. 

I have a prophecy that concerns both them and their 
parents. If these children be not restrained from such evil 
courses ; if their parents do not set them a pious example ; 
if they be not sent, or do not accompany their parents, to 
public worship ; and if they attend no Sabbath-school that 
may be in the neighborhood, I see nothing but guilt and 
misery before them in the present life : and oh, what must 
be their portion in the life to come ! That child, it is likely, 
will be a drunken, idle fellow, and will bring his father and 
his mother to shame. That other may be a thief; and his 
parents may live to see him come to the gallows ! He 
may be the grief of his father, and bitterness to the mother 
who bare him. Prov. 17: 25. Another of them may pro- 
voke the special anger of God, for the daring abuse of his 
own day, and the neglect of his own worship. For, " God 
is angry with the wicked every day," Psalm 7:11; but if, 
on his own day, his special and merciful commands are 
slighted and despised, it may be expected that he will " break 
such rebels with a rod of iron, and dash them in pieces like 
a potter's vessel." Psalm 2:9. Be wise and obedient, 
therefore, ye children, and repent, lest God suddenly take 
you away with a stroke ; lest ye live not out half your 
days ; lest ye be destroyed for the iniquity of your child- 
hood and youth ! And ye parents, instruct your children, 
and set before them a good example, and they shall give 
you rest. Prov. 29 : 17. Otherwise, " your eyes shall see 
their destruction, when they drink of the wrath of the Al- 
mighty." 



That man and that woman are greatly alarmed at the 
idea of spirits and apparitions ; they dread to be alone, or 
to go through the churchyard, in the dark ; the whispering 



TRUE PROPHECIES. g 

of the evening breeze, and the rustling of the shaking leaf, 
startle them with terror. 

Ah, I can prophesy to these, respecting what they should 
fear; though, with regard to spirits and apparitions, they 
have nothing to fear. They have reason to be afraid ; for 
God is not in all their thoughts, nor acknowledged in all 
their ways ; they never think of being disembodied spirits 
themselves, and how they will be able to stand before 
him who is the " God of the spirits of all flesh;" they are 
afraid of hearing or seeing any thing from the world of 
spirits, because they know it would bring nothing but ter- 
ror to them. A spirit from the place of torment might tell 
them, " Soon thou must become like one of us !" And a 
spirit from heaven might say, "Between us and you there 
will be a great gulf fixed." I therefore counsel thee to dis- 
miss all groundless fears and apprehensions, and to rever- 
ence and fear Him " who is able to destroy both body and 
soul in hell." Matt. 10: 28. Endeavor to obtain just 
thoughts of his majesty, power, and glory. Betake thyself 
to his favor and mercy, through Jesus Christ ; commit thy 
body and soul into his gracious hands ; consider thyself 
always in his presence " who compasseth thy path and thy 
lying down, and is acquainted with all thy ways." Psalm 
139: 3. Love, serve, and glorify him; and he will give 
his angels charge to keep thee in all thy ways ; and when 
thy body shall return to the dust, they will bear thy spirit 
to the innumerable company of angels, and to the spirits of 
the just made perfect, in the heavenly world, where thou 
wilt be happy with them for ever. 



I see in that man's house a Bible covered with dust ; and 

which, I fear, has not been used for a great length of time. 
VOL. iv. 7 



fl TRUE PROPHECIES. 

I have a prophecy concerning thee, O man, from that 
book which thou treatest with so much contempt. " Whoso 
despiseth the word, shall be destroyed." Prov. 13 : 13. 
" He that turneth away his ear from hearing the law, even 
his prayer shall be abomination." Prov. 28 : 9. God has 
written to thee the wondrous things of his law, and the 
gracious declarations and promises of his Gospel. He has 
spoken to thee by patriarchs, prophets, and apostles ; and 
directly from heaven by his Son. He has counselled thee, 
reproved thee, warned thee, and invited thee ; but all in 
vain. By thy conduct thou " puttest all these things from 
thee, and judgest thyself unworthy of eternal life." There 
remaineth, therefore, for thee, while thou continuest thus 
to think and act, nothing but eternal death ! For God's 
word shall not return unto him void ; it shall not be frus- 
trated by thy contempt and disobedience ; thou shalt be 
judged by it at the last day ; and every threatening con- 
tained in it will be executed upon thy guilty and miserable 
soul for ever ! Oh, then, search the Scriptures ; for they 
contain the words of eternal life ; they testify of Jesus, 
the Saviour of sinners ; they point out the way of mercy 
through him, and they are able to make thee wise unto sal- 
vation. 



But who is that person with such a demure countenance, 
and, in appearance, of a very different character from any 
I have yet described ? He says his prayers every morning 
and evening, and goes to the house of God every Sabbath. 
This is well ; and he takes care to let every body know it : 
this were well too, if he intended to excite others to do good 
by his example ; but he does it that he may obtain the 
praises of men, and that he may gratify his spiritual pride, 



TRUE PROPHECIES. 7 

by setting himself so much above the level of his neighbors. 
He thanks God that he is not as other men are : his mean- 
ing is, that he is not naturally so bad as other men ; and 
also, that he has made himself a great deal better than they 
are. He has no confessions to make to God of the depravity 
of his nature, the deceitfulness of his heart, or any wicked- 
ness of his life. He does not feel it necessary to do this ; 
and is even above doing it : this would make him appear to 
be no better than some of his neighbors, who, in his estima- 
tion, are notorious sinners. It suits his views and dispositions 
better, to tell God how good he is, and what good he does; 
and thus to make it an act of justice in God to notice and 
reward such a righteous and meritorious person as he thinks 
himself to be. 

For this person I have a sure prophecy ! " Thine heart 
is not right in the sight of God !" Thy sentiments, the pride 
of thy heart, and the self- righteousness of thy soul, oppose 
themselves to the free " grace of God," by which alone thou 
canst be saved, and to the very purpose for which Christ 
came into the world ; for he came " to seek and to save 
those that are lost." " Except thy righteousness exceed 
that of the Scribes and Pharisees, thou canst, in no wise, 
enter into the kingdom of heaven." Matt. 5 : 20. I tell 
thee, from the mouth of our Saviour himself, that the poor 
sinner, whose sense of depravity and guilt was so great 
"that he would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, 
but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a 
sinner " — even this man returned from prayer, to his house, 
justified, rather than the self-righteous Pharisee : such as 
thou seemest to be. " For every one that exalteth himself, 
shall be abased ; and he that humbleth himself, shall be ex- 
alted." Luke 18 : 9-14. Except, therefore, thou come 



9 TRUE PROPHECIES. 

to God as a poor, guilty, miserable, but repenting sinner, 
to be saved by his grace and mercy alone, through Jesus 
Christ, and to be sanctified by the Holy Spirit, thou wilt 
finally fall into dreadful and eternal condemnation. Con- 
sider this ; and may God give thee understanding in all 
things ! 



I see a man, who, although he possesses a rational, in- 
telligent, accountable, and immortal spirit, and is endowed 
with powers and capacities for exercising himself in love 
and obedience to God in the present state, and for perfect 
holiness and happiness in the world to come ; yet he is 
insensible of the infinite value of his soul ; of the condition 
into which it has been brought by depravity and guilt ; of 
the tender mercy of God in the gift of Jesus Christ, for the 
redemption and salvation of sinners ; and of the necessity 
of conversion to God, by the influence of the Holy Spirit. 
I see him active and intelligent in all concerns of a worldly 
nature ; but ignorant, indolent, and even dead, with regard 
to the knowledge of God revealed in his word ; to the life 
of God, to be enjoyed in the soul ; and to that cheerful and 
constant obedience which should be exhibited in his con- 
duct. In this man it is, spiritually, " as if the pulse of life 
stood still ;" but 'tis an " awful pause — prophetic of an end !" 

How long it may please God to permit such a person to 
live on the bounty of his providence, while he is both in- 
sensible and ungrateful ; to have the word of God in his 
hands, and the means and ordinances of grace to enjoy, 
while he derives no true knowledge from the former, and 
utterly neglects the latter; or how long this fatal stillness 
of soul may continue, unattended by evident tokens of di- 
vine displeasure — I cannot say. But I can truly prophesy, 



TRUE PROPHECIES. g 

that, sooner or later, the time will come, when, unless this 
person is mercifully alarmed, and effectually quickened, by 
the Word and Spirit of God, he will experience a most aw- 
ful change ; and, instead of apparent ease, comfort, and 
enjoyment, will feel exquisite pain, sorrow, and anguish. 
The immortality of his soul ; his accountableness to God, 
as his Maker and Judge ; the depravity and guilt of his 
nature ; the mercy of God, in the redemption of sinners by 
Jesus Christ ; the gracious invitations and the awful threat- 
enings of the word of God, and the necessity of conversion 
to God by the influence of the Holy Spirit — all these, and 
many more essential and eternal truths, will be impressed 
on his mind, with a conviction which it will not be possible 
to evade, and with terror which he will not be able to en- 
dure. The providence of God may also begin to frown upon 
him : God may look at him, and trouble him ; so that he 
may be forced to say, Let me flee from the face of the Lord, 
for he is fighting against me. Exod. 14 : 25. Let such a 
man, therefore, remember his ways and his doings, wherein 
he hath sinned, and loathe himself in his own sight, for all 
the evils which he hath committed. Ezek. 20 : 43. And 
when, by self-examination, by reading the word of God, and 
by humble and earnest prayer, he is enlightened to see his 
danger, and influenced to seek for an interest in the salva- 
tion of Christ, let him present himself as " a living sacrifice, 
holy and acceptable to God." Let him be no longer " con- 
formed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing 
of his mind ; that he may prove what is that good, and 
acceptable, and perfect will of God." Rom. 12 : 1, 2. 



Look at that man : with what self-complacency and 
confidence he is giving his opinion to the company who are 



VOL. IV 



10 TRUE PROPHECIES. 

listening to him, on a sermon which they have just heard 
respecting conversion and the new birth. How full he is of 
levity and profane ridicule ; and how earnestly he is en- 
deavoring to excite these unsuitable and unholy dispositions 
in those who are hearing him ! I pity and am shocked at 
this person in my very heart. He is throwing about fire- 
brands, arrows, and death, quite in sport. He is deceived 
himself, in a concern on which his eternal happiness de- 
pends ; and he is endeavoring to seal this awful deception 
on others. 

I have, therefore, a most awful prophecy concerning 
such a deluded and wicked man. " Verily, verily," saith 
Jesus Christ himself, "except a man be born again, he can- 
not see the kingdom of God." John 3:3. " If a man," 
saith St. Paul, " be in Christ, he is a new creature." 1 Cor. 
5: 17. If thou be a man that believest the word of God, 
here is surely enough to satisfy thee, that thou must be 
either converted or condemned ; that thou must be born 
again, or be excluded from the kingdom of heaven ; and 
these sacred declarations ought to excite thee to the most 
earnest and serious examination of thy state in the sight of 
God. 

But I can truly tell thee, that the reason why thou 
wilt not believe, with thy heart, these declarations of Scrip- 
ture, is, that thy depraved and sinful dispositions are utterly 
averse to the holiness of the state which conversion and re- 
generation plainly describe ; and thou art thinking of God 
as if he were such a one as thyself; as if he had no greater 
hatred to sin, or love to holiness, than thou hast ; and as if 
he would punish the guilty no further than they themselves 
would pronounce reasonable. I prophesy to thee, that thou 
art calling thy Maker to the bar of thine own judgment ; 



TRUE PROPHECIES. 

that thou art presuming thyself to be wiser and more right- 
eous than he is ; that thou art disbelieving the truth of God's 
word, which plainly shows thee thy depravity and guilt ; 
that thou art despising and rejecting the only means of thy 
recovery to the favor and image of God, and for the salva- 
tion of thy soul. 

I assuredly tell thee, that in misunderstanding and mis- 
representing the doctrines which Jesus Christ taught, when 
he said, " Except ye be converted, and be born again, ye 
cannot see or enter into the kingdom of God," thou art 
awfully deceiving thyself; that, in disbelieving these mo- 
mentous truths, thou art rejecting his divine authority, 
sinning greatly against God, and ruining thy own soul. I 
therefore earnestly advise thee to lay these things to heart ; 
to read God's holy word, with ardent prayer for the teach- 
ing of his blessed Spirit ; to humble thyself before him ; and 
to desist from the levity and ridicule which thou art so fond 
of exercising on subjects connected with Divine truth, and 
with the salvation of thy soul ; lest thou be numbered with 
those miserable victims to whom it will be said, " Behold, 
ye despisers, and wonder, and perish !" Acts 13: 41. 



At the door of that mansion I perceive the carriages are 
waiting, which have brought physicians to consult on the 
diseased and dangerous case of its rich but dying inhabi- 
tant ! I have formerly seen the door, and even the street, 
crowded with the equipage of visitors, who have assembled 
in this house to partake of the splendid entertainment ; to 
surround the fascinating card-table ; and to enjoy the festive 
dance. But, ah, what a reverse ! The noise of the tabret 
and harp hath ceased, and where luxury and festivity lately 
revelled, all is now silent, gloomy, and sorrowful. This 



12 TRIE PROPHECIES. 

man had long tried what health and riches would procure, 
without religion : now he is to experience whether sickness 
and pain can be borne without it. He has lived without 
God, and without hope ; now he is about to learn what it is 
to die without Divine support and consolation. I see him 
on his bed, restless, turning from side to side ; earnestly 
soliciting the utmost efforts of medical skill ; anxiously 
watching the countenances of his attendants ; and, in the 
trembling balance of hope and fear, weighing every expres- 
sion that falls from their lips ! Ah ! he has had his good 
things; but he has neither received them gratefully, nor 
used them wisely. He has walked in the ways of his heart, 
and in the sight of his eyes ; and for all these things God 
is bringing him into judgment. He now would think it 
comparative happiness to be dispossessed of his wealth, if 
he could but obtain a continuance in life ; but as riches 
have been misapplied and abused, and life has been for- 
feited by depravity and guilt, both, as to himself, will ter- 
minate together. 

I prophesy of this state, that it is the most deplorable 
and awful into which a human being can possibly fall ; 
that it is attended with feelings of agony which the heart 
of man cannot support ; and that it is connected with fore- 
bodings of everlasting destruction, which implant in the con- 
science the never-dying worm, and enkindle in the soul the 
inextinguishable flame. " The Lord of this servant has 
come in a day when he looked not for him, and at an hour 
when he was not aware !" Luke 12 : 46. There has been 
no use of the means of grace ; no prayer ; no watchfulness ; 
no holy obedience ! The world has been his treasure, and 
has had his heart. He has put religion away from him, and 
has thus counted himself unworthy of eternal life. And 



TRUE PROPHECIES. J 3 

now nothing remains but a " certain fearful looking for of 
judgment and fiery indignation." Heb. 12 : 27. Ah, that 
deep groan was the last effort of expiring agony ! He has 
given up the ghost, and where is he ! " O my soul, come 
not thou into their secret ; unto their assembly, mine honor, 
be not thou united." 



Another scene opens, a far different scene, in which the 
bitterness of domestic sorrow is corrected by the consola- 
tions of the Gospel. Around that bed stand the sorrowing 
wife and the weeping children of a poor, industrious, and 
pious cottager; who, while life is just expiring, has a smile 
of sweet serenity on his countenance, the language of hum- 
ble confidence on his lips, and the sure hope and antici- 
pation of heaven in his heart. The providence of God 
towards him hardly ever exceeded, although it never fell 
short of that promise, " Bread shall be given thee, and thy 
water shall be sure," Isaiah 33 : 16 ; but the grace of God 
made him rich in faith, and an heir of eternal glory. The 
world has scarcely looked upon him, or known him ; but 
the eyes of the Lord, which are ever on the righteous, 
have been constantly fixed on him, and his ears have been 
opened to this poor man's prayer. Many have been the 
privations and afflictions which he has endured ; and he 
has appeared to struggle with them, without any human 
interference to assist and support him ; but He who hath 
said, " Blessed is the man that endureth temptation," hath 
laid underneath him everlasting arms ; these have secretly, 
but effectually, strengthened and comforted him ; and he is 
now brought to the very close of every mortal suffering. 
O what a contrast must there be between the apparent con- 
dition of this poor man, and his real state, in the sight of 



14 



TRUE PROPHECIES. 



angels, " who are sent forth to minister to the heirs of sal- 
vation !" 

I can, without any presumption, prophesy, that, as soon 
as his heart shall have heaved its last sigh, sorrow will 
have fled away for ever, and death will be swallowed up 
in victory ! In the light of Divine truth, I see this poor but 
pious man passing through the valley and shadow of death, 
under the guardian care of the great and good Shepherd, 
whose rod repels every enemy, and whose staff affords all 
needful comfort and support. I see him anxiously, but 
hopefully, standing on the verge of dissolution ; and, as the 
light of heaven breaks through the dark clouds of mortality, 
he beholds Jesus " standing on the right hand of God," 
ready to receive his departing soul. I see the afflicted 
widow, and the fatherless children, the only witnesses of 
the last struggle and the expiring sigh ; — but beyond this, 
I behold the immortal and happy spirit carried by angels 
into Abraham's bosom. I see the late humble, and almost 
unknown inhabitant of earth, recognized and welcomed by 
the spirits of the just made perfect as a brother, and by 
angels as a friend. And, above all, I behold him entered 
into the eternal joy of his Divine Lord and Saviour ! 

" Let me die the death of the righteous ; and let my last 
end be like his." 



I pass from the consideration of some of the various 
states and pursuits of mankind, to the earth itself, and to 
the whole of its inhabitants. I place myself, in imagina- 
tion, on an eminence, from which I see all its beauty and 
glory, and all its vanity and guilt. I see the natural world 
exhibiting wonderful proofs of the wisdom, the power, and 
the goodness of God. The sun enlightens and invigorates 



TRUE PROPHECIES. 15 

it ; the rain refreshes and fertilizes it ; the cattle are graz- 
ing on a thousand hills ; the pastures are clothed with 
flocks ; the vallies are covered over with corn ; the great 
and wide sea is filled with things innumerable, both small- 
and great ; and all is subservient to the support, the com- 
fort, and the benefit of man. But, while with admiration I 
perceive all this goodness and glory, I am constrained tp 
deplore the curse that sin hath entailed upon the whole 
creation, which evidently groaneth and travaileth in pain, 
waiting to be delivered from this bondage of corruption. 
Rom. 8 : 21, 22. I see the irrational creation suffering, in 
innumerable ways, by the exercise of man's wanton pleas- 
ures, or his merciless cruelty. I see storms and tempests 
bursting on the world, laying waste its fertility, and de- 
stroying its beauty. I see earthquakes, with dreadful con- 
vulsions, tearing the earth in pieces, and ingulfing its 
inhabitants in sudden and awful ruin. I behold thousands 
of the human race hourly starting into life, and thousands 
hourly subjected to the just and immutable decree of that 
glorious Being " who turneth man to destruction." I see 
the world lying in darkness and in the shadow of death, 
notwithstanding the light of truth, immortality, and glory, 
which is revealed in the Gospel. I hear the joyful sound 
of salvation by grace, proclaimed by the ambassadors of 
Christ ; but I perceive men turning a deaf ear to it ; re- 
fusing all its merciful invitations, and despising all its tre- 
mendous warnings. 

With such scenes before me, my soul is affected and 
sorrowful ; yet I am revived at the consideration, that God 
has a people in the world, whom he hath called by his 
grace, and renewed by his Spirit ; and the language of my 
heart is, " Remember me, O Lord, with the favor which 



16 TRUE PROPHECIES. 

thou bearest unto thy people ; O visit me with thy salva- 
tion. " Psalm 106 : 4. But what shall the-end of all these 
things be ? Will the earth endure for ever ? Will day 
,and night, seed-time and harvest, summer and winter, never 
cease their gracious successions ? Will the judgments of 
God on his rebellious creatures be always confined to their 
present state of existence ? Are there no gracious rewards 
for the righteous, and no just punishments for the wicked, 
beyond the grave, to which they all are hastening 1 

Hear, O reader, my last and sure prophecy! It is 
taken from the records of inspired truth ; it concerns thee 
intimately and eternally; lay it therefore to thine heart. 
" The day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night ; in 
the which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, 
and the elements shall melt with fervent heat ; the earth 
also, and the works that are therein, shall be burnt up.'"' 
2 Pet. 3 : 10. " The hour is coming, in the which all that 
are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth ; 
they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life ; and 
they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damna- 
tion." John 5 : 28, 29. "And these shall go away into 
everlasting punishment, but the righteous into life eternal." 
Matt. 25 : 46. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 109. 

JAMES COVEY. 

BY REV. JOHN GRIFFIN, 

OF POKTSFA, EKGLATSTO. 




PRATT relates an affecting 
anecdote of a sailor on board 
the ship Venerable, in the ac- 
tion off Camperdown. He re- 
ceived the account from Dr. 
Duncan, who assisted in bind- 
ng up the wounds and ampu- 
tating the limbs of the unfor- 
tunate sufferers. A mariner, 
! j says the doctor, of the name 
of Covey, was brought down to 
the surgery, deprived of both his legs ; and it was necessary, 
some hours after, to amputate still higher. " I suppose," said 
Covey, with an oath, " these scissors will finish the business ot 
the ball, master mate." "Indeed, my brave fellow," cried 
the surgeon, " there is some fear of it." " Well, never mind," 
said Covey, " I have lost my legs, and mayhap lose my life ; 
but we have beat the Dutch, so I'll e'en have another cheer 
for it : Huzza, Huzza !" 

vol. iv. 8 



2 JAMES COVEY. 

Covey was a good seaman, and noticed among his ship- 
mates for his intrepidity ; but he was preeminent in sin. 
About a fortnight before the action, he was alarmed by a 
dream which made him tremble. The thoughts of his sins, 
of God, and of death, harassed his mind, and filled him with 
gloomy forebodings of what awaited him in this world and 
the next, till the sight of the Dutch fleet, and the conver- 
sation of the men with each other concerning the heroic 
achievements they should perform, dispelled the gloomy 
subject. 

As the two fleets were coming into action, the noble 
Admiral, to save the lives of his men, ordered them to lie 
flat on the deck, till, being nearer the enemy, their firing 
might do more execution. Covey, having lost all the im- 
pressions of his former reflections, heaped, in rapid succes- 
sion, the most dreadful imprecations on the eyes, and limbs, 
and souls, of what he called his cowardly shipmates, for 
lying down. He refused to obey the order, till, fearing the 
authority of an officer not far from him, he in part complied, 
by leaning over a cask which stood near, till the word of 
command was given to fire. At the moment of rising, a 
bar-shot carried away one of his legs and the greater part 
of the other ; but so instantaneous was the stroke, that, 
though he was sensible of a jar in his limbs, he knew not 
that he had lost a leg till his stump came to the deck, and 
he fell. His legs were amputated ; and he was soon put 
into Haslar hospital, from which he at length came out, ca- 
pable of walking by the means of two wooden legs and two 
crutches ; but his spirits were sorely dejected, from fearing 
that, as his sins had brought upon him the judgments of God 
in the loss of his limbs, they would bring it upon him in the 
loss of his reason and the loss of his soul. 

Having heard of Orange-street Chapel, Portsea, he 
came on the first Sabbath evening after his leaving the 
hospital. The text that evening was, " And they come to 
Jesus, and see him that was possessed with the devil, and 
had the legion, sitting, and clothed, and in his right mind." 
Mark 5 : 15. The minister represented this demoniac as a 



JAMES COVEY. 3 

fit emblem of sinners in general, especially of those who 
live without rule and order, drunkards, blasphemers, and 
injurious to themselves and others; and his sitting at the 
feet of Jesus, clothed, and in his right mind, as an engaging 
representation of the sinner converted to God by the Gospel, 
made sensible of the evil of sin, the value of his soul, and 
the necessity of salvation through a crucified Redeemer ; 
enjoying peace of mind, having fellowship with Christ and 
his people, submitting to the authority of the Scriptures, and 
receiving instructions from Christ, the friend of sinners. 
Covey listened with attention and surprise ; wondered how 
the minister should know him among so many hundred peo- 
ple ; or who could have told him his character and state of 
mind. His astonishment was still more increased, when he 
found him describe, as he thought, the whole of his life, and 
even his secret sins. He could not account for it, why a 
minister should make a sermon all about him, a poor, wood- 
en-legged sailor. His sins being brought afresh to his mind, 
filled him with horrors tenfold more gloomy than before. 
Despair for some minutes took a firm hold on his spirits ; and 
he thought he was now going out of his mind, should die, 
and be lost ; till the minister declared Jesus Christ was as 
willing to save the vilest of sinners, as he was to relieve this 
poor creature possessed of the devil ; and that a man was 
restored to his right mind, when he believed in him. He 
now began to think he had been out of his mind all his life, 
and that to love and serve Jesus Christ would be a restora- 
tion to his right senses again. While hearing of the aston- 
ishing love of Jesus Christ to sinners, hope took the place of 
despair, and joy of grief and horror ! Those eyes which 
had not shed a tear when he lost his legs, nor when the 
shattered parts of his limbs were amputated, now wept in 
copious streams of mingled joy and sorrow ! 

Some weeks after this, he called and related to me the 
whole of his history and experience ; and, something more 
than twelve months after, he was received a member of our 
church, having given satisfactory evidence of being a genu- 
ine and consistent Christian. 



4 JAMES COVEY. 

A few weeks since, hearing he was ill, I went to visit 
him. When I entered his room, he said, "Come in, thou 
man of God ! I have been longing to see you and tell you 
the happy state of my mind. I believe I shall soon die ; but 
death has now no terrors in it. The sting of death is sin, 
but thanks be to God, he has given me victory through Jesus 
Christ. O, what has Jesus done for me, one of the vilest 
sinners of the human race !" A little before he died, when 
he thought himself within a few hours of dissolution, he said, 
" I have often thought it was a hard thing to die, but now I 
find it a very easy thing to die. The presence of Christ 
makes it easy. The joy I feel from a sense of the love of 
God to sinners, from the thought of being with the Saviour, 
of being free from a sinful heart, and enjoying the presence 
of God for ever, is more than I can express ! O, how dif- 
ferent my thoughts of God, and of myself, and of another 
world, from what they were when I lost my limbs on board 
the Venerable ! It was a precious loss to me ! If I had not 
lost my legs, I should perhaps have lost my soul !" 

With elevated and clasped hands, and with eyes glisten- 
ing with earnestness through the tears which flowed down 
his face, he said, " O, my dear minister, I pray you, when 
I am dead, to preach a funeral sermon for a poor sailor ; and 
tell others, especially sailors, who are as ignorant and wicked 
as I was, that since poor blaspheming Covey found mercy 
with God, through faith in the blood of Christ, none that seek 
it need to despair ! You know better than I do what to say 
to them ! But, O be in earnest with them ; and may the 
Lord grant that my wicked neighbors and fellow-sailors may 
find mercy, as well as Covey !" He said much more ; but 
his last words were, " Hallelujah ! Hallelujah !" I wish Dr. 
Duncan and Mr. Pratt had witnessed the last dying hours 
of this once ignorant and blasphemous sinner ; they would 
have seen what a pleasing change was effected by the meek 
and efficacious grace of our compassionate Redeemer. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 110. 

THE 



CONVERSION OF JOHN PRICE. 



Hannah Price had been instructed in a Sabbath-school. 
The serious impressions made upon her mind were soon 
visible, and led to her saving conversion to God. This was 
an important event as it regarded herself; but the benefi- 
cial influence of her introduction to the Sabbath-school did 
not stop here. Her father, though in his earlier years he 
had received the advantages of a good common education, 
had become the companion of the most profligate men in 
his native village, and, by insensible degrees, the worst 
of them all. The ale-house usually received at night the 
earnings of the day ; or if any remained after the guilty 
revels of the week, they were spent on the Lord's day in 
the same haunt of vice. His wife never reproached him, 
and only endeavored to lure him from such society, and 
such practices, by the comforts of home. But his home 
was the scene of his greatest misery ; for there he had 
time to reflect, and there he was surrounded by his wife 
and children whom he was daily injuring. 

He had long pursued this wicked course, when one Sab- 
bath evening, after drinking and gambling all day, and 
having lost the earnings of the week, he returned from his 
companions, and scarcely knowing what he did, took the 
road homewards. One of them called on him to return ; 
entreated him to have one more game, and added, " You 
will be sure to win it all back, you know." 

He stopped — " Why, if I could get it back," said he to 
himself. " Come, come," said his companion, " one more 
game, only one." 

" No," said Price, " I've lost all my money, and so I 
can't, if I would." But at that moment it occurred to him 
that his quarter's rent, except what was to be made up out 
of his last week's work, had been put up in a cupboard in 
the kitchen at home ; and if he could get that, he should be 
sure to win back all he had lost. The money was to be 
paid the next day ; and hardened as he was, he trembled 
vol. iv. 8* 



2 CONVERSION OF JOHN PRICE. 

at what he was going to do, and was terrified lest his wife 
and children should see him. 

He approached the house, then ventured to look in at 
the window, and perceiving no one, he entered the kitchen, 
and went hastily to the cupboard. It was locked : and he 
felt a momentary relief in the thought that he could not get 
the money. But again he said to himself, " I shall be sure 
to win ;" and hastened softly up stairs to look for the key, 
thinking he knew where his wife had put it. As he passed 
the room in which his children slept, he thought he heard a 
slight noise ; and listening, he heard sobs, and then a voice. 
It was poor little Hannah, praying that her father might 
see the error of his ways ; that God would change his heart, 
and make him a comfort to her mother, and to them all. 
Her sighs and tears seemed almost to impede her utterance ; 
and when he heard her call him her dear father, and felt 
how ill he had deserved such a name, he could scarcely 
forbear groaning aloud, in the anguish of his feelings. He 
forgot the key, crept to his bedroom, and fell on his knees. 
He uttered not one word, but the language of the heart is 
audible in the ears of mercy ; and that evening, for the first 
time, it might have been said of him, " Behold he prayeth." 

After some time he went down stairs, where Hannah 
was rocking her little sister to sleep. She started with as- 
tonishment. For many months, and even for years, she 
did not remember seeing her father at home on a Sabbath 
evening. He went to the children and kissed them both. 
This was a mark of affection they did not often receive, and 
Hannah was as much pleased as she was surprised. 

" Dear father," she said, " mother, will be so glad to see 
you at home, and we shall be so comfortable ! You will 
not go out again to-night, will you, father?" 

"No, dear," he replied. And as she went to lay the 
babe on the bed he heard her say to herself, " Father called 
me dear." 

The return of his wife and boys from public worship, 
Price had been dreading. He knew not how to endure their 
looks of amazement : but it was soon over. The children 
at first looked fearfully at each other, as though their usual 
Sabbath evening's pleasure was over ; for they always sat 
up later, and told their mother all that had happened at the 
Sabbath-school, and what thev could remember of the ser- 



CONVERSION OF JOHN PRICE. 3 

mons they had heard during the day. Hannah had pre- 
pared supper, and there was a nice fire and a clean hearth. 
Price felt at that moment, that if his own character were 
what it ought to be, he should indeed be happy. 

" Father," said Hannah, as she entered the room, " here 
is a nice new-laid egg. It is my own, and you shall have 
it, father." 

Price could not speak, but he kissed his child, and he 
saw the tears in her eyes. He thought it was the nicest 
egg he had ever tasted. When supper was over, Hannah 
said, " Father, you have not heard me read a long time." 

" Well," said he, " will you read something to me out 
of your reward book at the Sabbath-school ?" He knew 
that this was the Bible, but had not courage to say so. 

IJannah was almost perplexed. She looked first at her 
father, and then at her mother. Two hours ago, the sight 
of a Bible in her hands would have insured oaths which 
she shuddered to hear. 

" Come, dear," said her father, " why don't you fetch 
it?" 

Hannah obeyed, though not without trembling. She 
read the 51st Psalm. Price hid his face and wept. The 
first part seemed made on purpose for him. He restrained 
his feelings sufficiently to say, " Thank you, dear, you are 
very much improved. Read something else." 

She turned to the 103d Psalm. " Surely God made her 
choose those two," thought Price. His wife beheld with 
astonishment the conduct of heHiusband, and the emotions 
which appeared to agitate him. 

" Hannah, my dear," said she, " you had better be tak- 
ing the boys to bed." Their mother kissed them, and told 
them they had been good boys ; and then they turned to 
Hannah, as if to ask if they should go to their father. 
" Come, dears," said she, " wish father good night." He 
kissed them, and they left the room. 

" You'll have some additional refreshment, John ?" said 
his wife. " You've had no beer to-night." 

" Oh," said he, " I hope I shall never taste beer again." 

W T ith unutterable joy she started from her seat, and 
throwing her arms around his neck, burst into tears. For 
some minutes they wept together. Price tried to speak, but 
could not. At length recovering some degree of compo- 



4 CONVERSION OF JOHN PRICE. 

sure, he seated himself beside her, and hiding his face, told 
her all the occurrences of the evening. 

" Can you ever forgive such a wretch ?" said he : " Oh, 
Hannah, can you ?" 

" Forgive you ! my dear husband," she replied : " I 
never loved you half so well, nor ever was half so happy 
before. Don't ask me to forgive you ; ask God to forgive 
you, and he will." And then she talked to him of the infi- 
nite mercy of God, through Jesus Christ, and again begged 
him not to ask pardon of her, but of Him. 

" 1 have, I have," said he ; " but till I heard what our 
dear child read, I did not think he could ever forgive such 
a wicked sinner as I am." 

" It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, 
that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, even 
the chief" said his wife. 

" Does the Bible say all that ? Does it say the chief?" 
he asked. " Indeed it does," she answered. " Then that 
must mean me," said he. 

" Let us kneel down together, my dear John," said his 
wife, " and ask God to fulfil his promise to you." " I can- 
not pray," said he. 

She took his hand, and made him kneel down beside 
her; and in the language of faith and affection, she com- 
mended him to the mercy of that God who had long been 
her Father and Friend. After thus engaging in prayer, 
the mind of her husband became more composed ; and he 
expressed the hope that he should never lose the remem- 
brance of this evening. 

The change was as permanent as it had been remarka- 
ble. From this time his old companions were forsaken, and 
the ale-house abandoned. To the former he only spoke, to 
entreat them to turn from their wickedness ; and the latter 
he never entered but once, and then it was with his wife, 
to pay the landlord a debt he had contracted, for some win- 
dows broken in an affray with one of his depraved associ- 
ates in a state of intoxication. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 111. 



THE 



SINNER DIRECTED TO THE SAVIOUR. 



BY REV. JOHN FLAVEL. 




Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world ! 
John 1 : 29. 

These are the words of John the Baptist; and they 
were spoken in . consequence of the question which was 
asked of him by the Jews : " Who art thou V' The humble 
prophet confessed, " I am not the Christ;" and on the next 
day, seeing Jesus coming to him, he exclaimed, " Behold 
the Lamb of God, " which taketh away the sin of the 
world !" 

Since the Redeemer left the world, he is not to be seen 
with an eye of flesh ; but believing on him is seeing him by 



2 THE SIN.NER DIRECTED 

the eye of faith ; and every one who thus seeth the Son, and 
believeth on him, shall have everlasting life. John 6 : 40. 

Jesus Christ himself hath pronounced a blessing on those 
" who have not seen, and yet have believed." John 20 : 29. 
And this blessedness is well described by the Apostle Peter, 
when he saith, " Whom having not seen, ye love ; in whom, 
though now ye see him not, yet, believing, ye rejoice with 
joy unspeakable, and full of glory." 1 Pet. 1:8. It is a 
disparagement to so glorious an object as Christ, to behold 
him, and not wonder; to see, and not love him. Certainly, 
the admiration, love, delight, and joy of our hearts, are all at 
the command of faith : let us therefore consider what ex- 
cellencies are in Christ, for the eye of the believer to behold 
and admire. 

1. " God was in Christ." 2 Cor. 5 : 19. He was " God 
manifest in the flesh." 1 Tim. 3 : 16. A God incarnate is 
the world's wonder. Here are infinite and finite joined in 
one. The Creator and creature united in one person. It 
is an argument of weakness to admire little things : and of 
stupidity, not to admire great things. Many miracles were 
wrought by Christ in the flesh ; but the greatest of all mira- 
cles was, that he " was made flesh, and dwelt among us." 
John 1 : 14. 

2. "Christ is the wisdom of God," 1 Cor. 1 : 24 ; yea, 
" in Him are hid all the treasures of wisdom and know- 
ledge." Coloss. 2 : 3. Never did the Divine wisdom display 
its glorious beams in the eyes of men and angels, in any 
work since the beginning of time, as it hath done in the 
appointment of Christ to be the Lamb of God, a sacrifice for 
sin. Behold the Lamb of God! and in him behold the un- 
searchable wisdom of God, in recovering sinners who believe 
in him, from all the danger of sin ; and yet making sin more 



TO THE SAVIOUR. 3 

dreadful to them, by way of their recovery from it, than ever 
it could be made by any other consideration. Behold the 
depth of infinite wisdom, in suiting the sinner's remedy to 
the cause of his disease. The disease was the pride of man ; 
the remedy was the humiliation of the Son of God. Man 
affected to be as God — that ruined him : God was mani- 
fested in the flesh, and ibund in fashion as a man — that 
saved him. O profound wisdom ! which, from the loss and 
ruin of our primitive glory — which was the undoing of us, 
soul and body — takes the occasion of raising us up to a far 
better state, and settles us in it, with a much better security 
than the former. 

3. The love of God is in Christ. Behold the Lamb of 
God ! and in him behold the love of God, in the highest and 
most triumphant discovery that ever was, or can be, made 
in this world. " Herein is love, not that we loved God, but 
that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for 
our sins." 1 John 4: 10. O here, here is the love of God 
to sinners ! God manifests love to us, in our daily provisions, 
protections, deliverances, and comforts. That we have 
health, when others groan under pains ; therein is love : 
that we have bread to eat, when others are ready to perish ; 
therein is love : O, but to have Christ to be a propitiation 
for us, when the angels that fell were left in their fallen 
state; therein was love indeed ! All the love that breaks 
out in the variety of providences in this world, in our health 
and estate, in our relations and comforts, is nothing, com- 
pared with this love : herein is love indeed ! 

4. The tender mercies of God over poor sinners, are in 
Christ. As Christ is the mercy promised, Luke 1 : 72 — 
the capital mercy — so he is the channel, through which all 
the streams of God's mercy flow freely to the sons of men, 



4 THE SINNER DIRECTED 

Jude 21. The mercy of God to eternal life, or his saving 
mercies, are only dispensed to us through Jesus Christ. 
Behold the Lamb of God ! a Lamb prepared by the aston- 
ishing mercy of God, a sacrifice for us when no sacrifice 
was appointed for fallen angels. This is the Lamb of God, 
to which, under the Jewish dispensation, all legal sacrifices 
had respect, and from which they derived all their virtue 
and value. The paschal lamb, and the lamb for daily 
sacrifice, were but the types and shadows of this Lamb 
of God. Behold the person appointed by God for a sacri- 
fice to take away sin ! Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was 
crucified for us. He shed his precious blood and offered up 
his life, a sacrifice to God, of a sweet-smelling savor, " that 
whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have 
everlasting life." John 3 : 16. Look ! as the sprinkling 
of the blood of the paschal lamb upon the door-posts of 
the Israelites, was that which preserved them from the 
destroying angel ; so the blood of Christ, the Lamb of 
God, typified by that blood, saves all who believe on him 
from the wrath to come. Thus Christ, the Son of God, 
prevents the destroying angel from executing the fierce- 
ness of his Father's anger, and preserves them as his people, 
that they may enter into the land of Canaan, the everlasting 
rest. But who can open the unsearchable riches of Christ, 
or recount his wonderful excellencies ? Angels and the 
spirits of just men made perfect behold and admire him for 
evermore ! Heaven would be no heaven for them, if they 
could not behold Christ there, sitting as a King, in his per- 
fect beauty, on his holy hill of Zion. 

But let us rather proceed to improve this subject, than 
endeavor further to unfold it \ for new wonders will appear 



TO THE SAVIOUR. 5 

in Christ, if we behold him, through the countless ages of 
eternity. 

1 . O sinner ! if you are sensible of a stony, hard heart, 
which cannot relent and mourn for all the wrong done to 
Jesus Christ by sin ; if your affections are benumbed and 
stupefied, so that no considerations you can urge upon your 
own heart, are able to cause a relenting pang for sin ; to 
you I would direct the words which we have now been con- 
templating, as the most effectual means to melt your heart. 
Look hither : Behold the Lamb of God / Consider, believe, 
and apply what is here represented ; and thy heart is hard 
indeed, if it relent not upon such a view of Christ. It is 
said, Zech. 12 : 10, " They shall look upon me whom they 
have pierced, and they shall mourn for Him, as one mourn- 
eth for his only son, and shall be in bitterness for him, as 
one that is in bitterness for his first-born." 

Behold the Son of God, brought " as a lamb to the 
slaughter" for thee, a vile, polluted sinner! Behold the 
invaluable blood of this sacrifice shed for thee ! Bring thy 
thoughts close to this subject ; think who it is that was made 
a Lamb for sacrifice ; for whom he endured all his un- 
speakable sufferings ; how meekly and willingly he endured 
all the wrath of God and men, standing in his perfect inno- 
cency, to be slain for thee. 

Behold ! he was made sin for thee, who had no sin, that 

thou, who hadst no righteousness, mightest be made the 

righteousness of God in him ! 2 Cor. 5 : 21. Oh, who ever 

loved thee as Christ hath done ? Who would endure that 

misery that Christ endured for thy sake ? Would thy father, 

or the wife of thy bosom, or thy friend, that is as thy own 

soul, be content to feel that for thee, though but for one hour, 

which Christ felt when " his sweat was, as it were, great 
VOL. iv. 9 



6 THE BINNEB DIRECTED 

drops of blood falling down to the ground ?" Luke 22 : 44. 
Nay, thou wouldst thyself never taste such a cup, for the 
saving of thy own child, as Christ drank off to the very last 
dregs, when he cried, " My God ! My God ! Why hast thou 
forsaken me V Behold how he loved thee ! Surely, if the 
rocks rent asunder at his sufferings, thy heart is harder 
than a rock, if it melt not at such a sight as this. Fix thine 
eyes awhile here, and thine eye will affect thine heart. 

2. O sinner, are you making too light of sin, and are 
you easily overcome by every temptation to the commission 
of it ? O come hither : Behold the Lamb of God, and you 
cannot possibly have slight thoughts of sin after such a 
sight of Christ. See here the price of sin ! Behold what it 
cost the Son of God to atone for it ! Did he come into the 
world as a lamb, bound with the band of an irreversible 
decree, to die for sin ? Did he come from the bosom of his 
Father to be thy ransom, and that at the price of his own 
life ? Did the hand of Divine Justice shed the heart-blood 
of this immaculate Lamb, to satisfy for the wrongs thy sins 
have done to God ; and yet canst thou look upon sin as a 
light matter ? God forbid ! Thy sin actually cost the blood 
of Christ ; one drop whereof is more valuable than all hu- 
man blood ; and yet, wilt thou not deny thy lusts, nor resist 
a temptation for his sake ? Behold the Lamb of God slain 
for thy sin, and thou canst never have slight thoughts of sin 
any more. 

3. Are you drooping and discouraged in your spirits, 
because of your manifold and aggravated iniquities ; and 
sinking into despair from being overwhelmed with the bur- 
den and weight of your sins ? These words are a sovereign 
cordial to revive your hearts and hopes : Behold the Lamb 
of God, that taketh away the sin of the world ! If the blood 



TO THE SAVIOUR. 7 

of the Lamb can take away the sin of the world, it can take 
away thy sin, though there be a world of sin in thee. For 
do but consider Christ, as appointed, from eternity, to be 
our propitiation : " Him hath God the Father sealed." Con- 
sider him as sacrificed in our room in the fulness of time. 
"Christ our passover is sacrificed for us." 1 Cor. 5: 7. 
Consider him as accepted by the Father with the greatest 
content and pleasure, even " as a sweet-smelling savor." 
Ephes. 5:2. Consider him as publicly justified and dis- 
charged by God, the creditor, at his resurrection. 1 Tim. 
3 : 16, and John 16 : 10. And, lastly, consider him as 
now in heaven, where he appears in the presence of God 
for us, as a lamb that had been slain, Rev. 5 : 6, bearing 
the very marks of his death, and presenting them before 
God, as the most effectual and moving plea to procure par- 
don and mercy for his people. Let these things, I say, be 
duly pondered, and nothing will be found more effectual to 
relieve your mind under the desponding sense of your sin. 
4. Are you faint-hearted, and ready to shrink away 
from any sufferings for Christ, as unable to bear and en- 
dure any thing for his sake ? Behold the Lamb of God ! 
Did Christ suffer such grievous things for you, and cannot 
you suffer small matters for him ? Alas ! what is the 
wrath of man, to the wrath of the great and terrible God ? 
Besides, Christ was an innocent Lamb, and deserved not to 
suffer the least degree of penal evil upon his own account ; 
but you have deserved hell, and yet shrink under the suf- 
fering of a moment. Did he suffer so much for you, and 
can you suffer nothing for him ? Surely he, in suffering 
for you, hath left you an example " that ye should follow 
his steps." 1 Pet. 2: 21. Are our sufferings compared, 
in kind or degree, to the sufferings of Christ ? Or our 



8 THE SINNER DIRECTED TO THE SAVIOUR. 

blood compared, in dignity, to the blood of Christ ? Re- 
member, " if you are planted in the likeness of his death, 
you shall be also in the likeness of his resurrection," Rom. 
6 : 5, that, like Christ, you may endure the cross, and de- 
spise the shame, for the joy that is set before you. 

5. Are you impatient under your personal trials and 
troubles, apt to grieve under common afflictions, or to swell 
with revenge under injuries from the hands of men? Be- 
hold the Lamb of God ! " As a lamb before her shearers is 
dumb, so he opened .not his mouth." Isaiah 53 : 7. And 
can you bear nothing without complaining ? How meek 
was Christ the Lamb, when he suffered most vile things 
from the hands of sinners ; and art thou a lion for fierce- 
ness ? He suffered patiently, and deserved it not ; you 
suffer impatiently, and have deserved what you suffer. O 
that you would learn to be more like Christ, in all your 
trials and afflictions ! 

6. Are you staggering at the promises, through unbe- 
lief? Can you not rely upon the word of promise, because 
your unbelieving heart fills you with unworthy suspicions 
of the power, faithfulness, or willingness of God to perform 
it for you ? Behold the Lamb of God / Are not " all the 
promises of God yea and amen " in Jesus Christ, to all that 
believe in him ? 2 Cor. 1 : 20. Or is there any thing put 
into any promise of greater value than the blood of the 
Lamb, that was shed to purchase it ? Or is not the giving 
of Christ to die for us, the accomplishment of the greatest 
promise that ever God made to us ? And after the fulfil- 
ment thereof, what ground remains for you to doubt the ful- 
filling of lesser promises ? For, if God " spared not his own 
Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with 
him also freely give us all things?" Rom. 8 : 32. 



.\o. 113. 

SAMUEL BAESTOW; 

OR, 

THE CONSISTENT CHRISTIAN. 



Samuel Barstow was born in Exeter, a parish of Leb- 
anon, Connecticut, April 8, 1760 ; but from the age of about 
ten, he resided in Columbia, formerly a part of the same 
township, until his death, February 27, 1846. Nothing in 
his childhood or early youth deserves especial notice. 

His conversion. At seventeen, or about sixty-nine years 
before his death, at a time when there was no special atten- 
tion to religion, he was awakened to see the spirituality of 
God's holy law, and feel its condemning power. He saw 
the aggravations and deformity of his sin, and felt the plague 
of his wicked heart. He applied himself to the use of the 
means of grace, till he thought, that by his prayers, and 
tears, and efforts, he had a claim on divine mercy, and re- 
garded himself as unjustly treated, because God did not 
afford, him the relief that he anticipated, and still left him 
in bondage, exposed to his dreadful wrath. 

He continued fighting against God, and was driven from 
one self-righteous refuge after another, till one day, deeply 
burdened with a sense of guilt and awful exposure, con- 
vinced that it would be just in God to cast him off for ever, 
but still unreconciled, he went into the woods to pray to his 
offended Sovereign. He resolved that he would continue to 
beg for mercy as long as he lived. " Feeling like a prisoner 
surrounded with enemies, from whom there was no escape, 
and nothing to be done but to throw down the weapons of 
his rebellion and sue for mercy," he kneeled in prayer. 
While thus engaged these words reached his heart : "Ye 
believe in God, believe also in me ;" and " a stream of love 
like the rays of the sun seemed to flow into his soul." All 
nature appeared changed. The birds were praising God, 
and the trees were bowing in adoration before him. He 
returned home singing the fifty-first psalm, 

" Show pity, Lord ; O Lord, forgive ; 
Let a repenting rebel live." 
vol. iv. 9* 



2 SAMUEL BARSTOVV. 

He opened the Bible. It was a new hook to him, and 
very precious. His psalm-book was alike new. The ninety- 
second psalm arrested his attention, as peculiarly meeting 
the feelings of his heart. He sung, 

" Sweet is the work, my God, my King." 

And often, since, has he sung those, his favorite stanzas, en- 
tering into the spirit of the words with the greatest liveliness 
and animation, almost as if ready to soar away to " that 
eternal world of joy." 

Notwithstanding this sudden and delightful change, he 
neglected to make a public profession of religion, but rather 
concealed his feelings, and for about four years walked in 
darkness. He was then again brought into deep spiritual 
distress, when, kneeling beside a log in the dark woods in 
prayer to God, and in humiliation and penitential confession, 
he experienced afresh the manifestation of his love. Then 
light broke in upon him — light which was seldom darkened . 
When twenty-one years old he united with the church. 
From that time, though occasionally tried with seasons of 
doubt and temptation, he enjoyed a very uniform religious 
experience, and habitually exhibited, in a remarkable de- 
gree, living and active piety. He was an esteemed officer 
of the church during the space of forty-six years. 

His consistency. In all his conduct there was a har- 
mony with himself. He was lively and cheerful in his 
disposition, and through life remarkably illustrated the prin- 
ciple, " Not slothful in business ; fervent in spirit, serving the 
Lord." He looked well to his flocks and his herds ; he pro- 
vided for his own, and managed his affairs with discretion, as 
the word enjoins ; but a sense of dependence upon his Father 
in heaven, delivered him from the bondage that attends upon 
haste to be rich. When informed of the loss of a thousand 
dollars, he blessed God that he had a treasure safe from all 
failures and losses, and sung the twenty-third psalm, 

" The Lord my Shepherd is," etc. 

In his customary employments he aimed to obey Christ, 
and to do all to the glory of God. When business pressed 
he would leave it to enjoy Christian communion and inter- 
course, and indulge his ardor of devotion in prayer and praise, 
or in listening to the word with joy, or teaching diligently 



SAMUEL BARSTOW. 3 

the things of the Lord. He always appeared to be engaged 
in religion ; yet he would have been the last to claim that 
he had attained, or was already perfect : he was acquainted 
with himself, and felt that, as a sinner, he constantly needed 
the grace of God. He was a man ; but in the family, in 
the field, in secular business, and in religious affairs, he gave 
evidence of being a regenerated man. He had his failings, 
but every one who knew him would have been glad to pos- 
sess his character and prospects, when called to die. 

Religious conversation. He was fond of reading relig- 
ious books, especially the biography of eminent Christians ; 
but there was one book he prized as " the book of books." 
Its contents were to him sweeter than honey, and of more 
intrinsic value than gold and silver. From his youth to his 
death, the Bible was the man of his counsel, and his light. 
This he studied. He became intimately acquainted with its 
truths. He loved to meditate upon the great doctrines of 
grace — the plan of salvation for lost sinners, by the atone- 
ment and mediation of the Son of God, through the sove- 
reign mercy of the covenant-keeping God of the elect. He 
was deeply impressed with a sense of human weakness and 
dependence on account of sin, and exalted the supremacy of 
God. Upon these subjects his mind and heart dwelt with 
intense interest, and he delighted to make them the theme 
of conversation. This was especially true on the holy Sab- 
bath, which he would not profane by conversation on worldly 
themes ; and every day, in his intercourse with others, at 
home or elsewhere, it was not his fault if religion was not 
the engrossing topic. Many a time has he begun to speak 
on spiritual things, and been deeply pained, that those 
bearing the name of Christian had not a word to say, had 
no experience to disclose — no fact to narrate — no text "to 
repeat — no doctrine to magnify — nothing to offer in regard 
to Christ and his religion ; and he has spoken of this one- 
sided conversation as hard work, when, if there were mutual 
interchange of sentiments, it would be delightful. To him 
spiritual converse was an important means of improvement, 
of usefulness, and enjoyment. 

Personal efforts. In this respect he was always re- 
markable, and thus he secured the confidence of all who 
knew hirn ; so that when occasion required, they could freely 
unbosom their feelings to him. When sinners have become 



4 BAMUEL BARSTOW. 

awakened, there was none to whom they would so soon 
resort as to Samuel Barstow. He was regarded as a good 
man, full of the Holy Ghost and of faith ; and his acquaint- 
ance with the Bible and his own heart, and the experience 
of his own sinfulness and danger, prepared him kindly to 
seek the deliverance of poor sinners from hell, into which 
he saw them just ready to plunge for ever. Often has he 
been so deeply exercised on the subject of religion — so anx- 
ious for a revival — so concerned for the conversion of sinners, 
as not to give sleep to his eyes, nor slumber to his eyelids. 
He could literally appropriate the language of Psalm 77, 
" Thou holdest mine eyes waking ; I am so troubled that I 
cannot speak." " Will the Lord cast oft' for ever ?" etc. ' He 
was anxious for the children and youth in the Sabbath- 
school. How earnestly did he warn them. How did he 
entreat them to escape from hell, and fly to Jesus, and not 
put it off. How fervently did he pray for them. 

Frequently have the awakened accompanied him on his 
way home, for the benefit of his conversation and prayers. 
For the same purpose they have repaired to his house ; and 
no matter how busily he might be engaged in pressing labor, 
he would promptly leave it to serve his Saviour in the wel- 
fare of souls. In the hurry of haying, one burdened with 
sin sought his sympathy and aid in striving to enter into 
the kingdom of God. He dropped his work — conversed 
a while, and then went into the woods and bowed with him 
in prayer. When travelling alone and far from home, he 
has been strongly impressed that the Lord had something 
for him to do, and has dismounted and entered the house of 
a stranger to speak of things pertaining to the kingdom of 
God. In the public-house where he has tarried a night, he 
has sought the highest good of those who entertained him. 
And in such instances, after intervening years, he has had 
the satisfaction to learn that he was the humble instrument 
of bringing souls to Christ. He once sought an opportunity 
to speak to a person who rudely avoided him, and her 
treatment of him was apparently overruled for her saving 
benefit. Being a delegate with his pastor to a neighboring 
church, he pressed the consideration of religion upon his host 
with such honest faithfulness, that his pastor rebuked him ; 
but the Lord rewarded him with the hopeful conversion of 
that man, and honored him as the instrument of saving a 



SAMUEL BARSTOW. 5 

soul from death, and hiding a multitude of sins. That man 
is now a highly respected officer of a neighboring church. 
Multitudes can bear witness to his direct personal efforts for 
their highest good, in sickness or in health, in a state of in- 
difference or alarm. 

Associated agency. His deep sense of personal respon- 
sibility prepared him for this, at the same time that it stim- 
ulated .him to individual efforts. For social prayer-meetings, 
religious conferences, church visitation, and the like, he was 
always ready. During the revival in 1782, he regularly 
attended a meeting at a private house, conducted by the 
brethren of the church on Sabbath evening. Unfavorable 
weather did not prevent his attendance. He used to go 
across the lots for two miles, and would sometimes stumble 
over the stones and fences ; " but," said he, "I did'nt mind 
it ; I had a sense of the love of God, and was as happy as 
I could be." 

In 1801, he was one of three brethren who commenced 
a weekly prayer-meeting in his own district on Thursday 
evening. They longed for a revival of religion, and re- 
solved to seek it in the appointed way. They began to 
inquire of the Lord for it ; and while they were yet speak- 
ing, the Lord heard and answered them. The meetings 
were full, Christians awoke to prayerful efforts, and sinners 
inquired, " What shall we do ?" There was an extensive 
and powerful revival of religion of long continuance, and 
many were added to the Lord. For years this meeting was 
a point of religious attraction. 

In 1816 similar persevering labors were greatly blessed. 
The Spirit was poured out, and many passed from death to 
life, and were led to subscribe with their own hand unto the 
Lord. And in every outpouring of the Spirit, he occupied 
the same position. His deep concern for souls, his hearty 
exhortations, his entreaties, his prayers and tears, the regu- 
larity and constancy of his attendance upon the meetings, 
even at his advanced age in 1841, will not soon be forgotten. 
He had passed the period of fourscore years, when their 
strength is labor and sorrow. Still, he wished to be a fel- 
low-helper to the truth, and consented to act as one of a 
committee to go from house to house, and converse and pray 
with families. 

In times of special interest, his presence was sought by- 



6 BAMUEL BARriToW. 

neighboring pastors and churches, in their social meetings 
and religious visits. And he was always ready to go any- 
where, if he could be of service in such a season. His friends 
sometimes thought him too regardless of his temporal inter- 
ests, but he was habitually so impressed with the importance 
of eternal things, as not to allow his worldly business to 
detain him from the place where he expected to meet his 
Saviour, and experience his love, or restrain him from coop- 
erating in efforts for the advancement of religion. He valued 
the Lord's harvest more than his own, and in the midst of 
haying and harvest he would devote his own time to the 
service of the Lord. He has been known, in the most busy 
season, to release a hired man from his field, and clothe him 
in his son's apparel, that he might accompany him to the 
religious meeting. Who can doubt that he is now with 
those who " turn many to righteousness," and " shall shine 
as the stars for ever and ever ?" 

The Lord's steicard. " The blessing of the Lord, it 
maketh rich," and "a faithful soul shall abound with bless- 
ings." So it was in the experience of Samuel Barstow. 
He commenced life without property, settled upon a stony 
farm, that promised but slow progress in the way to wealth ; 
and he soon had a family of several children. But he spent 
little for ornament and equipage, was active, industrious, 
and economical, and the Lord prospered him. 

He formed his habits of giving when donations to be- 
nevolent objects were comparatively few and small ; and 
the streams of his liberality encountered obstructions calcu- 
lated to diminish their amomit ; but he always conscien- 
tiously acknowledged the Lord's claim upon his property. 
He was a liberal supporter of the Gospel. He felt, that for 
the glory of God and the welfare of society, the institutions 
of religion must be sustained. He sent not the unfortunate 
and distressed away from his door, with the cold wish, "De- 
part in peace ; be ye warmed and filled." He would bestow 
some substantial token of kind sincerity. His faith wrought 
with his works, and by works was his faith made perfect. 

All the various departments of benevolence shared his 
aid. He would generally give to any important object $5 
or $10 at least. Sometimes he would take his money out 
of town, and direct some trusty friend to apply it, so that it 
should not be traced back to him. Sometimes he placed 



SAMUEL BARSTOW. 7 

money in the hands of his pastor, and laid him under an 
injunction of secrecy as to the source from which it came. 
He has been known to give to different objects more than 
$100 in a year, and at his death left a legacy of $500 to a 
valuable institution. He observed during his last years, that 
he did not know why the Lord continued him in life unless 
to afford him an opportunity to bestow his property upon 
useful objects, and that he expected to give in charity as 
long as he lived. There was nothing parsimonious ; no 
grudging, no calculating the least amount that would save 
his credit. If absent when collections have been taken up, 
he has wished to be informed, "so as not to lose the privi- 
lege of lending something to the Lord." " He trusted his 
promise to pay." " In the Lord's bank it was safe" 

His death. He was never harassed with the fear of 
death. He kept the object before his mind, and cultivated 
habitual preparation for it. From time to time, he felt a 
longing to depart and be with Christ. When his children 
were all at home, and he had every attraction to life, he once 
supposed himself lying at death's door, but the expectation 
made him happy. He longed to be with Jesus. A few 
years later, he was attacked with a violent disease. He 
thought it would set him free from the body of sin and 
death, and that soon he should reach his heavenly home. 
To his delighted mind, " the room seemed to be full of the 
love of God." In his joyfulness, he forgot his pain. "When 
its progress was restrained, and he discovered that he was 
still to live, he was submissive to the divine will, but with 
a feeling of disappointment. He was always ready to con- 
verse freely upon the subject of death, and would say, 
" Death has lost its terror." He spoke familiarly of having 
his dwelling in the grave, and to enforce remarks in the 
Sabbath-school, he would say, pointing to the graveyard, 
" I shall soon be down yonder." 

His composure and hope resulted from no supposed good- 
ness in himself, or value in his services. His dependence 
was upon Christ alone. His hope of acceptance rested in 
his blood, in his righteousness. He obeyed from love, and 
his good works were only the proofs of the grace of God at 
work in his corrupt heart. He repeatedly quoted Lemuel 
Haynes' epitaph, as the appropriate one for himself. " Here 
lies the dust of a poor, hell-deserving sinner, who ventured 



8 SAMUEL BARSTOW. 

into eternity trusting wholly on the merits of Christ for sal- 
vation." His eye of faith rested on Christ Jesus and him 
crucified. And how ardently did he love him. He was the 
great attraction in heaven. To depart and be with him was 
his chief, his crowning desire. But he expected to meet in 
the upper world saints of every age, particularly brethren 
who he doubted not had passed from the church in Colum- 
bia, to the church triumphant above. " I shall see broth- 
er and ," giving their names, and expecting to 

recognize them and rejoice with them before the throne. 

When his limbs were swollen, and he was much op- 
pressed in breathing, he said, " I don't want you to pray 
that I may live." He thought it was his last sickness, and 
that there was no need of employing a physician, except 
from regard to the wishes of friends. He lingered beyond 
his expectations, examined himself with severe scrutiny, 
was afraid of entertaining wrong feelings, and enjoyed a 
comfortable assurance of hope. Prayer and religious con- 
versation afforded him great satisfaction. He would some- 
times propose prayer , before an interview closed, as the very 
first thing, so that it might not be forgotten or driven into 
a corner. He wished to hear any interesting intelligence 
respecting the church, took delight in talking about scenes 
in the revivals in past years, and longed to have God revive 
his work again. 

Just before the solemn change, he said, " I am willing 
to stay as long, and sutler as much pain, as may please 
the Lord. But I long to go. I feel that for every brother 
on earth I have fifteen in heaven, and I long to be with 
them. I love them, but I love the Saviour more. Precious, 
precious Sari our !" He died tranquilly. By faith he was 
united to Christ, as a branch and a member. He depended 
upon him alone. He desired to be with him, and esteemed 
every thing else as comparatively of little value. TVas not 
the text selected for his funeral truly appropriate ? "I 
heard a voice from heaven, saying unto me, Write, Blessed 
are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth : Yea, 
saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors ; and 
their works do follow them." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 113. 

QUESTIONS AND COUNSEL. 



BY REV. ASHBEL GREEN, D.D. 

FOR THOSE WHO HOPE THAT A WORK OF SAVING GRACE HAS 
BEEN WROUGHT UPON THEIR HEARTS. 

Questions. 1. Have you seen yourself to be, by na- 
ture and by practice, a lost and helpless sinner ? Have you 
not only seen the sinfulness of particular acts of transgres- 
sion, but also that your heart is the seat and fountain of sin ; 
that in you, naturally, there is no good thing ? Has a view 
of this led you to despair of help from yourself — to see 
that you must be altogether indebted to Christ for salvation, 
and to the gracious aid of the Holy Spirit for strength and 
ability rightly to perform any duty % 

2. On wha>t has your hope of acceptance with God been 
founded ? On your reformation ? on your sorrow for your 
sins ? on your prayers ? on your tears ? on your good works 
and religious observances 1 or has it been on Christ alone, 
as your all in all ? Has Christ ever appeared very precious 
to you ? Do you mourn that he does not appear more so ? 
Have you sometimes felt great freedom to commit your soul 
to him ? In doing this — if you have done it — has it been, not 
only to be delivered from the punishment due to your sins, 
but also from the power, pollution, dominion, and existence 
of sin in your soul ? 

3. As far as you know yourself, do you hate, and desire 
to be delivered from all sin — without any exception of a 
favorite lust ? Do you pray much to be delivered from sin ? 
Do you watch against it, and against temptation to it ? Do 
you strive against it, and in some degree get the victory over 
it 1 Have you so repented of it as to have your soul really 
set against it 1 

4. Have you counted the cost of following Christ, or of 
being truly religious ? That it will cut you off from vain 
amusement, from the indulgence of your lusts, and from a 
sinful conformity to the world ? That it may expose you 
to ridicule and contempt ; possibly to more serious perse- 
cution ? In the view of all these things, are you willing to 
take up the cross, and to follow Christ, whithersoever he shall 

vol. iv. 10 



2 QUESTIONS AND COUNSEL. 

lead you ? Is it your solemn purpose, in reliance on his 
grace and aid, to cleave to him, and to his cause and people, 
to the end of life ? 

5. Do you love holiness ? Do you earnestly desire to 
be more and more conformed to God, and to his holy law ; 
to bear more and more the likeness of your Redeemer ? Do 
you seek, and sometimes find communion with your God 
and Saviour ? 

6. Are you resolved, in God's strength, to endeavor con- 
scientiously to perform your whole duty — to God, to your 
neighbor, and to yourself? 

7. Do you make conscience of secret prayer daily ? Do 
you not sometimes feel a backwardness to this duty ? Do 
you at other times feel a great delight in it ? Have you a 
set time, and place, and order of exercises, for performing 
this duty ? 

8. Do you daily read a portion of the Holy Scriptures 
in a devout manner ? Do you love to read the Bible ? Do 
you ever perceive a sweetness in the truths of Holy Scrip- 
ture ? Do you find them adapted to your necessities, and 
see, at times, a wonderful beauty, excellence, and glory, in 
God's word ? Do you make it the man of your counsel, and 
endeavor to have both your heart and life conformed to its 
doctrines and requisitions ? 

9. Have you ever attempted to covenant with God ; 
to give yourself away to him, solemnly and irrevocably, 
hoping for acceptance through Christ alone ; and taking 
God, in Christ, as the covenant God, and satisfying portion 
of your soul ? 

10. Does the glory of God ever appear to you as the 
first, greatest, and best of all objects ? 

1 1 . Do you feel a love to mankind, such as you did not 
formerly feel ? Have you a great desire that the souls of 
men should be saved, by being brought to a genuine faith 
and trust in the Redeemer ? Do you love God's people with 
a peculiar attachment, because they bear their Saviour's 
image, and because they love and pursue the objects, and 
delight in the exercises, which are most pleasing and delight- 
ful to yourself? 

12. Do you feel it to be very important to adorn religion 
by a holy, exemplary, amiable, and blameless walk and con- 
versation ? Do you fear to bring a reproach on the cause 



QUESTIONS AND COUNSEL. 3 

of Christ ? Does this appear to you extremely dreadful ? 
Are you afraid of backsliding, and of being left to return to 
a state of carelessness and indifference in religion ? 

13. Do you desire and endeavor to grow in grace and 
in the knowledge of Christ your Saviour, more and more ? 
Are you willing to sit at his feet as a little child, and to 
submit your reason and understanding implicitly to his 
teaching ; imploring his Spirit to guide you into all neces- 
sary truth, to save you from all fatal errors, to enable you 
to receive the truth in the love of it, and to transform you, 
more and more, into a likeness to himself? 



Counsel. 1. Remember that these questions are in- 
tended to point your attention to subjects of inquiry the most 
important. Do not, therefore, content yourself with a care- 
less or cursory reading of them. Read and deliberate, and 
examine yourself closely on the questions under each head ; 
and let your heart be lifted up to God, while you are con- 
sidering each particular question, in earnest desire that he 
may show you the very truth. You cannot ordinarily go 
over all these questions at one time. Divide them, therefore, 
and take one part at one time, and another at another. But 
try to get over the whole in the course of a week ; and do 
this every week for some months. When you find yourself 
doubtful or deficient in any point, let it not discourage you ; 
but note down that point in writing, and bend the attention 
of your mind to it, and labor and pray till you shall have 
made the attainment which will enable you to answer clearly. 

2. Remember that secret prayer, reading the word of 
God, watchfulness, and self-examination, are the great means 
of preserving comfort in religion, and of growing in grace. 
In proportion as you are exact and faithful in these, such, 
usually, will be your inward peace, and the safety of your 
state. Unite them all together, and never cease to practise 
them while you live. 

3. Besides the Bible, have constantly in reading, at your 
leisure hours, some author of known piety and excellence. 
Read Baxter's Saints' Rest, Doddridge's Works, etc. 

4. Do not suppose that any evidence of a gracious state, 
which at present you may think you possess, will release 
you from the necessity of maintaining a constant vigilance 
in time to come ; nor from repeated examinations and trials 



4 QUESTIONS AND COUNSEL. 

of yourself even to the end of life. Many marks and evi- 
dences of a gracious state are set down by pious writers. 
But they must all come to this : to ascertain what is your 
prevalent temper and character ; whether, on the whole, you 
are increasing in sanctification, or not ? If you are, you 
may be comforted ; if not, you have cause to be alarmed. 
It is only he that endureth to the end that shall be saved. 

5. I think it of very great importance to warn you not 
to imagine that true religion is confined to the closet, or to the 
church ; even though you apprehend that you have great 
comfort and freedom there. Freedom and comfort there, 
are, indeed, most desirable ; but true religion reaches to 
every thing. It alters and sweetens the temper. It goes 
into every duty, relation, station, and situation of life. If 
you have true religion, you will have a better spirit, you 
will be better sons, better scholars, better friends, better 
members of society, and more exemplary in the discharge 
of every duty, as the sure consequence of this invaluable 
possession. And if your religion does not produce these 
effects, although you may talk of inward comforts, and even 
of raptures, you have great reason to fear that the whole is 
a delusion, and that the root of the matter is not in you. 
" Herein," said the Saviour, " is my Father glorified, that 
ye bear much fruit ; so shall ye be my disciples." 

6. Be careful to avoid a gloomy, and to cherish a cheer- 
ful temper. Be habitually cheerful ; but avoid levity. Mirth 
and laughter are not always sinful ; but let your indulgence 
in them be clearly innocent, not very frequent, and never 
of long continuance. Be very humble. Be not talkative. 
Before experienced Christians be a hearer, rather than a 
talker. Try, in every way, however, to promote religion 
among your relatives and friends. Win them to it by your 
amiable temper and exemplary deportment. " Flee youth- 
ful lusts." Shun every excitement to them. Guard against 
dissipation : it extinguishes piety. Be not disconcerted by 
ridicule and reproach. Your Saviour bore much of these 
for you. Think of this, and be ashamed of nothing so much 
as of being ashamed of him. Trust in his protection, live 
to his praise, and you will spend an eternity in his blissful 
presence. 

PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 114. 

SERIOUS 
THOUGHTS ON ETEENITY. 



Eternity ! What is it 1 Who can explain it 1 Who 
can comprehend it 1 Eternity is duration without limits. 
Properly speaking, that only is eternal which has neither 
beginning nor end. In this sense, God alone is eternal. 
There never was a time when he was not. His exist- 
ence is not capable of being measured by any period of 
time ever so often repeated and multiplied. " He is the 
same from everlasting to everlasting. He was, and is, 
and is to come : the high and lofty One, who inhabiteth 
eternity." There are some creatures which have both a 
beginning and an end : as the whole brute creation. 
There are others which have had a beginning, but shall 
have no end : such are angels, and the spirits of men. 
But 0, how deeply does it concern a creature born to 
live for ever, to make himself acquainted with that fu 
ture state to which he is hastening ; and what subject 
is more suited to restrain the licentiousness of this 
thoughtless, luxurious age, than that of eternity ! Let a 
few minutes, then, be devoted to the serious perusal of 
the following pages ; and may they be read with a mind 
disposed to offer up to God such desires as these : 

" God, the fountain of wisdom and goodness, assist 
me to read this little book with a serious, attentive mind; 
let me not satisfy myself with barely commending the 
important truths which it contains, but teach me to 
make a devout application of them. May I read them 
as addressed to my conscience ; and, as far as they 
agree with thy holy word, may I receive and submit to 
them as an oracle of God. May they afford me present 

vol. iv. 10* 



2 SERIOUS THOUGHTS ON ETERNITY. 

instruction and benefit; and thus tend, by thy grace, 
through Jesus Christ, to fit me for the enjoyment of 
eternal glory." 

The soul of man is immortal. This is a principle on 
which all the divine dispensations are founded. The sa- 
cred writers do not set themselves directly to prove it, 
yet it is abundantly asserted in the book of God. Our 
Saviour maintains the future existence of the soul, from 
God's calling himself the God of Abraham, Isaac, and 
Jacob, many years after their death ; n for God," saith 
he, f< is not the God of the dead, but of the living ; for 
all live unto him." The same Divine Teacher asserts, 
that though men may kill the body, they cannot kill the 
soul ; but if the soul died with the body, or ceased to 
think and act after death, they might kill the soul as 
well as the body. The apostles speak of being unclothed : 
putting off the body, or the tent in which the soul re- 
sides. They speak of giving up the ghost, (or spirit ;) 
of the spirits of wicked men being in prison ; and of the 
spirits of just men being made perfect. 

The Scriptures also speak of two future states: a 
state of happiness in heaven, and a state of misery in 
hell ; and affirm that each of these is eternal. Holy 
souls, when removed from this world, are admitted into 
heaven, which is undoubtedly a state of glory and hap- 
piness ; and the principal stress laid on this is, that it is 
an eternal state. Thus we frequently read of eternal 
life ; eternal redemption ; and eternal glory. The house 
to which good men shall be removed, is eternal in the 
heavens. The kingdom which they shall possess, is an 
everlasting kingdom. Their happiness is called an eter- 
nal weight of glory, and it is said they shall be for ever 
with the Lord. 

The misery of hell is also eternal. Those who lived 
in rebellion against God and disobedience to the Gospel, 
and died impenitent and unrenewed, are removed to n 



SERIOUS THOUGHTS ON ETERNITY. b 

state of misery and torment. Our Lord, speaking of it, 
calls it " the fire that never shall be quenched ;" and this 
he repeats no less than four times. St. Paul says, that 
the wicked " shall be punished with everlasting destruc- 
tion." Jude speaks of the inhabitants of Sodom as " suf- 
fering the vengeance of eternal fire." Our Lord, also, 
describing the day of judgment, says, " The wicked shall 
go away into everlasting punishment." 

How astonishing, then, is the folly and the madness of 
mankind ! One would imagine, from their conduct, that 
they expect either to die like the brutes, or else that 
God has no wrath for them to fear, and no mercy for 
them to desire. Look into the lives of men in general, 
and you will see that visible and temporal things appear 
to them the most important, unseen and eternal things 
the most trifling. They are eager to provide for their 
frail dying bodies, and to heap up wealth which they 
cannot carry with them ; but take little or no care of the 
nobler part of their nature, their never-dying souls. They 
are every day laying up for years to come, but take no 
thought for eternity. They are diligent in trading, but 
negligent in praying. Their shop-books are duly posted, 
but they seldom consult the book of God. Some who 
have lived sixty or seventy years, and know that eternity 
cannot be far off, have perhaps never spent one serious 
hour in inquiring into the state of their souls, and what 
preparation is necessary for eternity. There are others, 
less busy about temporal concerns, but equally careless 
about eternal ones. They waste that precious time in 
unnecessary sleep or recreation, which was given to 
them to improve for eternity. They contrive a thousand 
methods to kill time, (as they ignorantly speak,) and are 
thankful to any one for an expedient to pass it off. 
They waste God's sacred time, as well as their own, and 
will not devote even the short interval of a Sabbath to 
consider the things that make for their eternal happi- 



■i: SERIOUS THOUGHTS ON ETERNITV. 

ncss. M The life everlasting " is indeed an article of 
their creed, but is strangely forgotten and lost sight of. 
The warnings of conscience, the admonitions of friends, 
the addresses and prayers of ministers, have no abiding 
effect on their mind. Thus they go on, in a round of 
folly and impenitence, till their foot slippeth in some 
dreadful moment, and they are lost for ever ! 

One of the Fathers, with great beauty and propriety, 
calls death " the gate of eternity." The death of a hu- 
man creature is his passing out of time into eternity ; 
and what event can be more solemn 1 Yet, this is so 
common, that we seldom make any serious reflections 
on it ; and we talk of it with as much indifference as of 
any common article of news. With regard to death it- 
self, there is one event to the righteous and to the wick- 
ed : but ! what a vast difference immediately succeeds ! 
To each, their time of trial is ended, and their eternal 
state is begun. The righteous man puts off the body 
with all its cares, temptations, and sorrows ; his soul as- 
cends to God, and enters upon everlasting rest, security, 
and joy. What a glorious and delightful change ! The 
sinner likewise changes his temporal for eternal things : 
but it is for torment and misery. " When a wicked man 
dieth," saith Solomon, " his expectation shall perish, and 
the hope of unjust men perisheth." His last breath and 
his last hope expire together. He shall never hear preach- 
ing or praying any more ; never receive one more invi- 
tation of mercy. He is brought to the bar of God, to 
give an account of the time, the means, and the advan- 
tages he has enjoyed, and to receive his doom. This is 
the portion of a wicked man ! And is it not then an aw- 
ful thing to die 1 You will think so when the king of ter- 
rors seizes you. A man of humor, in his gay hours, 
wrote and published a history of those who had died 
jesting ; but he solemnly retracted it in writing on his 
death-bed ; for he found that death was no jesting mat- 



SERIOUS THOUGHTS ON ETERNITY. 

ter. " Ah ! eternity ! eternity /" said a graceless wretch, 
when dying, and looking dismally at those about him — 
and there he stopped : he said no more ; more he could 
not say ; more he needed not to say. Ponder upon this 
example ; and if you dread such a death, do not lead 
such a life. 

When you hear of the death of others, how proper 
and useful a reflection would this be, M They are gone 
into eternity /" When you hear the solemn sound of a 
tolling bell, think, " Another soul is gone into eternity!" 
When you see the funeral of a neighbor, think, " His 
time is ended ; he has arrived at his eternal home, and 
is fixed in an unchangeable state." " Man giveth up the 
ghost," saith Job, " and where is he V What is become 
of him whom, but a few days ago, we saw and convers- 
ed with! In what place, with what company, is he 
now 1 While I am thus reflecting, what does he see, and 
feel, and think 1 And how soon will the same thing be said 
concerning me also : M He is dead !" that solemn, aw- 
ful clay, that shall finish my course ; that infinitely import- 
ant day when I must enter upon eternity ! Surely these 
just and natural reflections should make me serious, as 
they did a very eminent courtier and statesman in Queen 
Elizabeth's time, (Secretary Walsingham,) whose me- 
morable words cannot fail to make some impression on 
every reader. This great man having retired from the 
busy world into the privacy of the country, some of his 
gay companions rallied him on his becoming religious, 
and told him he was melancholy. tf No," said he, " I 
am not melancholy, but I am serious ; and 'tis fit J 
should be so." Ah! my friends, while we laugh, all 
things are serious round about us. God is serious, who 
exerciseth patience toward us : Christ is serious, who 
shed his blood for us : the Holy Spirit is serious, in striv- 
ing against the obstinacy of our hearts : the Holy Scrip- 
tures bring to our ears the most serious things in the 



6 SERIOUS THOUGHTS 01* ETERNITY. 

world : the whole creation is serious in serving God 
and us : all that are in heaven or hell are serious. How 
then can we be gay 1 

Let us then maintain a steadfast regard to eternity, 
wherever we are, and whatever we do. Were we deli- 
berately to compare temporal and eternal things, we 
could never imagine that providing for the present life 
was worthy so many hours' thought and labor every day, 
and eternity scarce worthy of half a thought in many 
hours, and perhaps not one fixed serious thought in many 
days. Proper thoughts of eternity will restrain our im- 
moderate fondness for the things of time ; they will show 
us that the riches, honors, and pleasures of this life are 
all temporary, fading, and deceitful. They will teach us 
to follow even our lawful worldly business with mode- 
ration, by reminding us that we have more important 
affairs to attend to. They will abate our fondness for 
the distinctions of the world, which are so generally 
prized. The honors of this world cannot silence a cla- 
morous conscience, much less can they suspend their 
possessor's eternal doom. A great man had an extraor- 
dinary mark of distinction sent him by his prince, as he 
lay on his death-bed. "Alas!" said he, looking coldly 
upon it, " this is of immense value in this country j but 
I am just going to a country where it will be of no ser- 
vice to me." 

In like manner, considerations of eternity will restrain 
your fondness for the diversions and amusements of life. 
You will have better things to mind, nobler objects to 
pursue. A lady, who had spent the evening at cards and 
in gay company, returning at night, found her servant 
maid reading a religious book : she looked over her 
shoulder and said, " Poor, melancholy soul ! what plea- 
sure can you find in poring so long over that book !" 
That night the lady could not sleep, but lay sighing and 
weeping : her servant repeatedly asked her what was 



SERIOUS THOUGHTS ON ETERNITk'. 7 

the matter 1 At length she burst into a flood of tears, 
and said, " O ! it was one word I saw in your book that 
troubles me ; there I saw that word eternity ! O, how 
happy should I be, if I were prepared for eternity /" 
The consequence of this impression was, that she laid 
aside her cards, forsook her gay company, and set her- 
self seriously to prepare for another world. That emi- 
nent man, Mr. Philip Henry, when he felt the most acute 
pain in a fit of the stone, said, " 'I am tormented,' but, 
blessed be God, not 'in this flame.' I am on fire, but, 
blessed be God, it is not the fire of hell." 

A regard to eternity would make us serious and live- 
ly in all the duties of religion. A celebrated painter 
among the ancients, being asked why he took so much 
pains about his pictures, answered, " I am painting for 
eternity." This thought — " I am reading, I am hearing 
for eternity" would put life and vigor into all our reli- 
gious exercises. 

Serious thoughts of eternity will render the Gospel of 
Jesus Christ unspeakably precious. They will lead us 
to receive those humbling truths which are so opposite 
to the pride of worldly men. Why is it that the ap- 
proach of death and eternity fills the mind with fear and 
apprehension 1 It is because we are sinners ; and there- 
fore "judgment is come upon all men to condemnation." 
And indeed it is "a fearful thing to fall into the hands 
of the living God." When these terrors of the Lord 
have taken hold of the conscience, how refreshing is it 
to hear that the word of God reveals a free, full, and 
everlasting salvation ! It publishes pardon and eternal 
life as the gift of God, through the obedience and death 
of his Son Jesus Christ ; without which there could 
have been no forgiveness of sin, no admission into eter- 
nal happiness. It is therefore only through faith in his 
blood, that we can hope for the justification of our per- 
sons. It is only through the power of his grace, that 



O SERIOUS THOUGHTS ON ETERNITY. 

wo can attain a meetness for the inheritance above. 
Thus shall we excite and cherish the most grateful and 
affectionate emotions of the heart towards our Lord 
Jesus Christ, and God, even our Father, " who hath 
loved us, and given us everlasting consolation, and good 
hope through grace j" and, in proportion to the solidity 
and liveliness of that hope, it will fill us with joy un- 
speakable and full of glory. 

And now, candid reader, permit me to request that 
you would most seriously and carefully review this sub- 
ject, and ask yourself: "0 my soul, art thou prepared 
for eternity ?" Prepared, or not, eternity is at hand. 
Let me entreat this small favor of you, to retire this 
very day, and spend a little time in thinking upon eter- 
nity. Ponder in your mind what it is to live in a state 
of endless happiness, or endless misery. If you will do 
this, I shall have a cheerful hope that one quarter of an 
hour, so spent daily, may be the most profitable you 
ever spent in all your life j and that God will make the 
meditation useful to your soul, and the beginning of 
eternal felicity. If I thought an apology necessary for 
dwelling so long on eternity, and being so earnest in this 
address, that apology should be no more than the an- 
swer which a pious man once made to this question 
from his friend, "Why do you spend so much time in 
reading, meditation, and prayer V The good man lifted 
up his eyes and hands to heaven, and said, with great 
solemnity — "for ever ! for ever ! for ever V 



PUELISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



JVo. llo 

THE 



DECAY OF SPIRITUAL AFFECTIONS. 



BY REV. DR. JOHN OWEN. 



Some there are, yea, many, who, at the time of making 
a profession of their conversion to God, have a great appear- 
ance of vigorous, active spiritual affections : yea, it is so 
with most who are really converted. 

In some, this vigor of spiritual affections is from the real 
power of grace exerting its efficacy on their hearts. In 
others, it is from other causes. The change that is made, 
whatever it be, is most striking when it is wrought upon 
persons in their younger days ; for then their spiritual 
affections, so far as they are connected with the natural 
powers, are most active, and bear the greatest sway in the 
soul. But many Christians, as they increase in age, and 
grow up in worldly wisdom and in the love of earthly things, 
and multiply secular cares, decay in their spiritual affec- 
tions. They abide in their profession, but have " lost their 
first love." 

It is a shame and folly unutterable, that it should be so 
with any who make profession of that religion, wherein 
there are so many incomparable excellencies to endear and 
engage them to it more and more. But why should we 
hide what experience makes manifest, and what multitudes 
proclaim concerning themselves ? I look upon it as a great 
evidence of life and growth in grace, when men, as they 
grow in age, grow in an undervaluation of present things ; in 
contempt of the world ; and abound more in the duties of 
charity and love. As we have before said, usually the 
entrances upon a religious life are attended with vigorous, 
active affections towards spiritual things. Of them who 
really and sincerely believed, it is said that " they rejoiced 
with joy unspeakable, and full of glory." And of those who 
only had a work of conviction on them, that they " received 
the word with joy," and did " many things gladly." In 
this state many abide and thrive, until their affections are 
transformed into the image and likeness of things above. 
vol. iv. 11 



2 DECAY OF SPIRITUAL AFFECTIONS. 

But with many it is not so : they fall into a woful decay of 
their spiritual affections, and consequently, in their whole 
profession and conversation, their moisture is changed into 
the drought of summer. They have no experience of the 
life and actings of spiritual things within them, nor any 
comfort or refreshment from them. They honor not the 
Gospel with any fruits of love, zeal, or delight ; nor are 
they useful any way to others, by their example. Some 
of them have had seeming recoveries, and are yet again re- 
lapsed into a lifeless frame ; warnings, afflictions, the word, 
have awakened them, but they are again fallen into a dead 
sleep ; so that they seem to be " trees whose fruit wither- 
eth, without fruit, twice dead ! plucked up by the roots." 

There may be a time of temptation, wherein a soul may 
apprehend in itself, not only decay, but an utter loss of all 
spiritual affections, when it is not so. As believers may 
judge that the Lord hath forsaken and forgotten them, when 
he hath not ; so they may, under temptations, apprehend 
that they have forsaken God, when it is not so. A man in 
the night may apprehend he has lost his way, and be in 
great distress, when he is in his proper road. Temptation 
brings darkness and amazement, and leads into mistakes 
and a false judgment in all things. They find not grace 
working in love, joy, and delight, as formerly, nor that 
activity of heart and mind in holy duties, which spiritual 
affections once gave them. But yet, it may be, the same 
grace works in godly sorrow by mourning, humiliation, 
and self-abasement, no less effectually, nor less acceptably 
to God. 

Again, there may be an apparent decay of spiritual 
affections when there is no real decay. The same inward 
feelings may cease to produce the same outward symptoms 
and effects. This may be owing to age, to weakness, or 
infirmity. Men in their younger days are generally more 
ready to express their sorrow by tears, and their joy by 
sensible elevation of spirits, than in riper years. But here 
let it be remarked, that when decay is only apparent, it will 
ever be a burthen to those in whom it is found. They can- 
not but mourn and have a godly jealousy over themselves, 
lest the decays they find should not be in the outward, but 
in the inward man. And they will labor, that in all duties, 
and at all times, it mav be with them as in the davs of old ; 



DECAY OF SPIRITUAL AFFECTIONS. 3 

though they cannot derive that strength and vigor of spirit 
from these duties, nor that life and comfort which others 
have found. There will be, in such persons, no decays in 
holiness of life, no remissness in the performance of relig- 
ious duties. If decay be really of grace in the affections, 
it will be accompanied with a proportionable decay in all 
other things wherein holiness of life is concerned ; but if it 
be only as to the sensible actings of natural affections, no 
such decay will ensue. Grace in this case will more vigo- 
rously act itself in the various faculties of the soul. The 
judgment and the will will be more decidedly and uniform- 
ly in favor of spiritual things. 

When men find their affections quick, active, and intent 
on other things, as the lawful enjoyments and comforts of 
life, and yet dull and inactive in the things of religion, it is 
in vain for them to relieve themselves by supposing that the 
decays they find in themselves are in natural, and not in 
spiritual affections. If we see a man in his old age grow 
more in love with the things of the world, and less in love 
with the things of God, it is not through the weakness of 
nature, but through the strength of sin. 

A real decay of spiritual affections is an awful frame 
of heart. It is a consumption of the soul, which threatens 
it with death every day. Among the many and dangerous 
evils wherewith this state is attended, are the following. 

1. It is displeasing to the Lord Jesus Christ. He pities 
professors and intercedes for them when they are under 
temptations ; but threatens them under spiritual decays. 
" Nevertheless I have somewhat against thee, because thou 
hast left thy first love. Remember, therefore, from whence 
thou art fallen, and repent, and do the first works ; or else I 
will come unto thee quickly, and will remove thy candle- 
stick out of its place, except thou repent. Be watchful, and 
strengthen the things which remain, that are ready to die ; 
for I have not found thy works perfect before God. Remem- 
ber, therefore, how thou hast received and heard, and hold 
fast, and repent. If, therefore, thou shalt not watch, I will 
come on thee as a thief, and thou shalt not know what hour 
I come upon thee." This state of decay, Christ, who is the 
head of the church, and of every believer, cannot bear with, 
since it both reflects dishonor on himself, and is ruinous to 
those in whom it is found. Christ speaks now the same 



4 DECAY OF SPIRITUAL AFFECTIONS. 

to each one of us, that he spoke to the churches of old ; 
for he lives for ever and ever, and is always the same, 
and his word is living and unchangeable. If any of us 
are under this frame, the Lord Jesus Christ, by his word 
and Spirit, testifieth his displeasure against us ; and if he be 
against us, who shall plead for us ? Oh, who can stand be- 
fore the dreadful tokens of his displeasure ! The Lord help 
us to look well to our condition, lest He, in whom we profess 
to place our only trust, be found our greatest enemy. Take 
heed of that state, in which Christ himself, our only advocate, 
hath declared he will not save us. 

2. This state tends above all things to grieve the Holy 
Spirit. His work it is, to give an increase and progress of 
holiness. He begins it, and carries it on. Can any thing 
be apprehended to be such a just matter of grief and com- 
plaint to the Holy Spirit, as to see those whom he had once 
raised up to holy and heavenly affections, become earthly 
and sensual, and have no sensible actings of spiritual things 
within them ? This is the only case wherein God speaks to 
men in the way of complaint and expostulation ; and uses 
all sorts of arguments to convince them of the folly of such 
a state. " What," saith he, " could I have done more to my 
vineyard, that I have not done in it? Wherefore, when 
I looked that it should bring forth grapes, brought it forth 
wild grapes ?" When the Holy Spirit has nourished and 
brought us up to some growth and progress in spiritual 
affections, wherein all his concern in us lies, and we grow 
cold, dull, and earthly-minded, and cleave to the pleasures 
and sins of the world, how is he grieved, how is he pro- 
voked ! It may be, this consideration of grieving the Holy 
Spirit has no great weight with some ; if so, it would be 
impossible for them to give a greater evidence of a profligate 
hardness in sin. 

3. This state is absolutely inconsistent with all comfort- 
able assurance of the love of God. Whatever assurance of 
God's love persons under the power of such a frame pretend 
to. their security is only a sinful security, and not a gracious 
assurance of peace. It is ever the case, that when profes- 
sors decay in spiritual affections, stupidity of conscience 
and security of mind also grow upon them ; unless, per- 
haps, they are for a time in trouble and distress, by being 
surprised into some great sin which reflects severely on 



DECAY OF SPPUTITAL AFFECTIONS. 5 

their consciences. That peace with God, and a comfortable 
assurance of salvation, should be consistent with an habitual 
decay in grace, is contrary to the whole tenor of Scripture ; 
and the supposition of it would be the bane of religion. I 
do not say that our peace and assurance of the love of God 
arise wholly from the actings of grace in us ; there are 
other causes also for these ; but this I say, under an habit- 
ual declension of grace in the affections, no man can main- 
tain a gracious sense of the love of God, or of peace with 
him. True peace with God is a fruit that will not grow on 
a vain, earthly, selfish frame of mind. " Do men gather 
grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles ?" Nothing can be so 
ruinous to our profession, as once to suppose it an easy mat- 
ter, a thing of course, to maintain peace with God. God 
forbid that our utmost endeavors to thrive in every grace 
should not be required thereto ; for the whole beauty and 
glory of our religion depend upon it. " To be spiritually 
minded is life and peace." 

4. Such a decay as we have described is a dangerous 
symptom of an evil state and condition, and of the most awful 
self deception. I do not say that every one in whom there 
is this prevalent decay in spiritual affections is deceiving 
himself — that he is certainly a hypocrite : I only say, that 
where it continues without remedy, it is such a symptom of 
hypocrisy as that he who is wise and hath a care of his soul 
will not rest until he has searched it to the bottom. It seems 
as if such persons had had a false or imperfect work in that 
conversion unto God which they have professed. Now, it is- 
the nature of such a work greatly to flourish for a season, in 
all the principal parts and duties of a profession ; but it is its 
nature, also, gradually to decay, until it is quite withered 
away : in a few, it is lost by the power of some vigorous 
temptation ; but in most the decay is gradual, until the work 
entirely disappears. Wherever this decay exists, it is the 
duty of men to examine how things stand with them, and to 
know whether they have ever savingly closed with Christ ; 
since there is every appearance of the work's being of an- 
other nature. A saving work thrives and grows; but a 
false and imperfect work, having no root, withers away. 

5. Persons in this state of decay are apt to entertain false 
hopes and notions, whereby the deceitfulness of sin puts forth 
its power to harden them to their ruin. This pernicious effect 

vol. iv. 11* 



Q DECAY OF SPIRITUAL AFFECTIONS. 

. is produced by the prevalency of a particular sin, or by the 
neglect of spiritual duties and the indulgence of a vain con- 
versation in the world. Some plead for indulgence only in 
one sin. Let me be spared in this one thing, and in others 
I will be exact enough. There have been persons, who 
have lived long in the practice of some gross sins, and yet 
all the while used a semblance of great diligence in other 
duties of religion. In this way poor sinners delude their 
own souls. Suppose it were possible that a man should give 
himself up to any sin, or be under the power of it, and yet 
be observant of all other duties ; yet this would give him no 
relief as to the eternal condition of his soul. One sin, will- 
ingly lived in, is as able to destroy a man's soul, as a thou- 
sand. Besides, what we have supposed is practically false. 
There is no man that lives in any one known sin, but he 
really lives in more, though that one may bear the chief 
sway. Let no man relieve himself with the thought that it 
is but one sin, while that one keeps him in a constant neg- 
lect of God. Where God is not loved supremely, he is not 
loved at all. Let not the light you have, nor your gifts, nor 
your duties, nor your profession, deceive you ; if you live 
in sin, you love not God. 

There are some who determine, that at such or such a 
season, after such satisfaction in sin, they will utterly give 
over, so as that finally iniquity shall not be their ruin. But 
this is a false notion also, an effectual instrument of the 
deceitfulness of sin. He that will not now give over, that 
will not immediately, upon the discovery of the prevalency 
of any sin, and warning about it, endeavor sincerely and 
constantly to relinquish it, say what he will, never intends 
to give over ; nor is it probable, in an ordinary way, that he 
ever will. 

There are many who are ready to say, that though they 
have some cause to mistrust themselves, yet their condition 
is not so bad as some may apprehend it. This arises from 
hence, that they have not yet been overtaken with any enor- 
mous sin, which has filled their consciences with disquiet or 
terror. But let such remember, that every decay is dan- 
gerous, and especially that which the mind is ready to plead 
for an excuse. 

If any suppose their decay does not arise from them- 
selves and the evil of their own hearts, but from their cir- 



DECAY OF SPIRTUAL AFFECTIONS. 7 

cumstances, business, and state of life, from which, when 
they are freed, they will return at least to their former love 
and delight in spiritual things, they are deceiving them- 
selves. Let men's circumstances be what they will, all 
their departures from God are from an evil heart of unbelief. 

Many judge it no hard matter to retrieve themselves out 
of this state, but that which they can easily do, when there 
is absolute necessity for it. But this is a false notion also. 
Recovery from backsliding is the hardest task in the Chris- 
tian religion, and which few do either comfortably or hon- 
orably. 

In this state, I say, men are apt, by such false reason- 
ings, to deceive themselves to their eternal ruin. Where- 
fore I add, that they who find themselves under the power 
of this wretched frame, who are sensible in themselves, or 
at least make it evident to others, that they are under a de- 
cay in their spiritual condition ; if they rest in that state, 
without groaning, laboring, and endeavoring for deliverance 
Irom it, they can have no well-grounded hope of life and 
immortality ; yea, they are in those paths which go down 
to the chambers of death. 

I shall close with some advice to such as find themselves 
in a state of spiritual decay, and are desirous of being deliv- 
ered from so dangerous a situation. 

Remember whence you are fallen. Call to mind former 
days ; consider if it were not better with you then than 
now ; when in your lying down and rising up you had 
many thoughts of God, and of the things of God, and they 
were sweet and precious to your souls ; when you rejoiced 
at the " remembrance of his holiness ;" when you had zeal 
for his glory, delight in his worship, and were glad when 
they said, " Let us go up to the house of the Lord ;" when 
you poured forth your souls with freedom and enlarged 
affections before him, and were sensible of the visits and 
refreshments of his love. Remember what peace, what tran- 
quillity of mind you had, while it was thus with you ; and 
consider what you have gained, since you have in any degree 
forsaken God. Dare to deal plainly with yourselves. Is it 
not true, that all wherein you have to do with God, is either 
from custom and selfishness, or is attended with trouble, dis- 
quiet, and fears ? Do you truly know, either how to live, 
or how to die ? Are you not sometimes a terror to your- 



8 DECAY OF SPIRITUAL AFFECTIONS. 

/ 

selves ? It must be so, unless you are hardened through 
the deceitfulness of sin. What have sin and pleasure, which 
you have received into your hearts in the room of God and 
heavenly things, done for you ? Speak plainly. Have they 
not wounded you, weakened you, and brought you into that 
condition, that you know not what you are, or to whom you 
belong ? What are your thoughts, when your eyes are 
most open to your danger, when you are most yourselves ? 
Do you not sometimes pant within yourselves, and say, O 
that it were with us as in former days 1 If you can be no 
way affected with the remembrance of former things, then 
one of these two great evils you are certainly under : either 
you have never had a real work of grace in your souls, or 
you are hardened through the deceitfulness of sin. 

Let those to whom this frame is a burden, consider, that 
as there are many things dreadful, pronounced in the Scrip- 
tures against backslidings and backsliders in heart ; yet also 
there are special calls and promises given to those in your 
condition, who earnestly desire to return. " Return, thou 
backsliding Israel, saith the Lord, and I will not cause mine 
anger to fall upon you ; for I am merciful, saith the Lord, 
and I will not keep anger for ever." Again, "I will heal 
their backslidings, I will love them freely ; for mine anger 
is turned away from them." 

As you design to live and not die, yield obedience to 
these calls ; plead these promises before God, doing it with 
faith. As you value your souls, defer not the duty to which 
you are called, for one moment. You know not how soon 
you may be beyond the reach of calls and promises. 

As to those who, on these and the like considerations, do 
not only desire, but will endeavor also to recover them- 
selves from this condition, I give them this advice: be in 
good earnest. If you will return, return, come. Make 
thorough work of it ; this you must do. some time or other, 
or you will perish. Why not do it now ? Why is not this 
the best season ? Who knows but it will be the only time 
you will have for it ? O remember, that trifling endeavors, 
occasional resolutions and attempts, will pass away like the 
" morning cloud and early dew," and leave your souls to 
ruin. Unless there be universal diligence and perseverance 
in your endeavors, you are undone. " Then shall ye know, 
if ye follow on to know the Lord." 



No. 116. 



SABBATH OCCUPATIONS 




Friend — Allow me to ask, What are you engaged in, 
or whither are you going 1 Are you preparing to join in the 
public worship of God ; or are you following your worldly 
business, or seeking for amusement on this day ? If one of 
the latter is your object, do you not recollect that this is the 
day which God has marked as his own, by the fourth com- 
mandment ? But lest you should have forgotten it, permit 
me to refresh your memory. In the 20th chapter of Exodus 
it is thus written : 

" Remember the Sabbath-day to keep it holy. Six days 
shalt thou labor, and do all thy work ; but the seventh day is 
the Sabbath of the Lord thy God : in it thou shalt not do any 
work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy man-servant, nor 
thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor the stranger that is within 
thy gates : for in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, 
the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day : 
wherefore the Lord blessed the seventh day, and hallowed it." 



2 SABBATH OCCUPATIONS 

What excuse can you now make for profaning this day, 
which God has pronounced holy? If you did not know it 
before, you can now plead ignorance no longer. But, per- 
haps, this is not the first, nor the second time you have 
Droken this commandment, by working, travelling, drink- 
ing, and many other idle practices : your own conscience 
will tell you whether I am right in what I suspect or not. 

Perhaps you will say, " It is not often that I break this 
commandment." Show me any one authority from the 
Bible which permits you to break it at any time. I am 
certain you cannot. It does not appear that the man who 
was stoned in the wilderness, for gathering sticks on the 
Sabbath-day, had ever done so before ; and yet he was 
stoned to death, God himself being the Judge, who tried the 
cause, passed the sentence, and ordered Moses to see it exe- 
cuted. See Numb. 15 : 32. Were you, and all who break 
the Sabbath, to be struck dead by the visitation of God, 
what a dreadful spectacle would be exhibited ! It is to be 
feared, there would hardly be a house, a street, or a road, 
where there would not be some dead ! It is only by the 
patience and long-suffering of God that you are spared, that 
you may repent, and not perish ; and will you despise this 
mercy, and continue to insult your God, Sabbath after Sab- 
bath ? If you will do so, beware lest he cut you off sud- 
denly, and deliver you over to everlasting torments. Or, 
if sudden judgment should not overtake you, as you know 
it has others, in very awful and numerous cases, be sure 
your repeated and aggravated sins will find you out at death, 
at judgment, and in hell, where your misspent, abused Sab- 
bath hours will be avenged with ages of useless sorrow. 

But perhaps you will say, " I see those who are my 
betters, and who ought to know what is right, travelling, 
driving about in their carriages, and following their amuse- 
ments, as much on the Sabbath as on any other day." If 
so, they will have to answer for it at the dreadful day of 



SABBATH OCCUPATIONS. 3 

judgment ; but their conduct, my friend, is no rule for you. 
The Bible, which ought to be your rule of life, directs you 
not to " follow the multitude to do evil." Exod. 23 : 2. It 
declares, that " though hand join in hand, the wicked shall 
not be unpunished." Prov. 11 : 21. Perhaps you may say, 
. "I am a poor man, or I have a large family, and cannot 
afford to be idle : besides, I can make more by working, and 
letting my cattle work on this day, than on any other ; and 
you know I should disoblige my employers and customers, 
were I to refuse their orders." Oh, friend, reflect for a mo- 
ment on the folly, as well as sinfulness, of these excuses ; 
so far from excusing, they add to your sins. Can you not 
trust to God for such a blessing on your six days' labor, as 
will supply the wants of your family ? By working on the 
Sabbath, you plainly declare that you will not trust him. 
And if so, how can you expect that he will bless any thing 
you do ? Is it not God, whose day you are breaking, who 
gives you health and ability to e.arn the food that you eat, 
and the clothes that you w'ear ? Can all your wages do you 
good, if he puts his curse upon them ? The little that is 
got in the fear of God goes much further than the rewards 
of sin. How many are there, who have all their earnings 
poisoned by their greediness in working on the Sabbath ! 
God can send sickness to take away what is sinfully gotten. 
Look around among your neighbors, and if you know any 
one that fears God and keeps his Sabbath, I will venture to 
say that you find that man more happy and comfortable 
than those who work, or take their pleasure on those days. 
" Godliness hath the promise of the life that now is," as well 
as of "that which is to come." Poor unhappy creatures, 
who are toiling at your labors, keeping open your shops, 
sitting at your stalls, when you ought to be employed in 
worshipping God, and seeking for the salvation of your 
souls by Jesus Christ his Son, how much do I pity you, how 
much do I blame you ! I will supposo, that by working on 



4 SABBATH OCCUPATIONS. 

the Sabbath you gained six times as much as on any other 
day ; but let me ask you, in the words of our Lord Jesus 
Christ, " What would it profit you, if you gained the whole 
world, and lost your own soul ?" If you fear disobliging 
your master or employers, it plainly shows that you fear 
man more than God. But let me ask you, Are you to obey 
God, or man ? and which ought you to seek to please ? Oh, 
my friend, remember that Jesus Christ hath said, " Seek ye 
first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these 
things shall be added unto you." Matt. 6 : 33. 

Perhaps you may say, that you do keep the Sabbath day 
holy ; for you go to church, and when going on business, or 
a journey, you attend prayers in the way ; and you think 
there is no harm in working, travelling, or entertaining 
yourself with your friends for the remainder of the day ! 
But be assured, my friend, whatever you may think, there 
is much harm in it, though you may have been at prayers : 
observing the day in one part, will no more excuse you for 
profaning the remainder, than having hitherto kept the 
whole law would excuse you for committing murder. The 
Sabbath-day consists of as many hours as any other day, 
and it is the day, and not a particular part of it, that God 
commands to be kept holy. Suppose you hire a laborer for 
a day, do you riot consider him as bound to work for you the 
whole of that day, except during the time allowed for his 
meals ? or would you pay him the day's wages, if he only 
worked for one hour and a half? I am very certain you 
would not. And do you suppose that the great God will 
allow you to despise his day, and put him off with a formal 
service of an hour or two ? Be assured he will not ; he 
will require it of you. 

Had the laws of your country enacted, that every Sab- 
bath-breaker should lose his property and substance, and 
also be confined in prison for life, would you then dare to 
break it, when you knew the consequence ? It is true, you 



SABBATH OCCUPATIONS. 5 

are not subject to such punishments here ; but let me tell 
you, that, by the laws of God, you are exposed to much 
more dreadful judgments hereafter. The wilful breach of 
any one of God's commandments subjects you to the loss 
of both soul and body, when they will be cast into a prison 
from whence there is no escape, even into that bottomless 
pit, " where there is weeping, and wailing, and gnashing 
of teeth ; where the worm dieth not, and the fire is not 
quenched." Will you, therefore, fear the power of man, 
and yet pay no regard to the laws of that God who can de- 
stroy both soul and body in hell ? Consider that, at this 
moment, you are exposing yourself to his just vengeance : 
this very night your soul may be required of you, and you 
may be summoned before the bar of that dreadful Judge, 
whose laws you are now breaking, and whose judgments 
you seem at present to despise. 

Ah ! could one of those miserable and tormented spirits 
which are at this moment suffering the agonies of eternal 
despair, tell you what he feels, and what he would give for 
one hour of this sacred day which you are trampling under 
foot for pleasure or for gain, so as to have the offers of par- 
don and eternal life made to him but once more ; how would 
you tremble to hear his language, and fear lest this Sabbath 
should pass away, before you were delivered from that curse 
under which he suffers ! Be assured that, unless you re- 
pent, a few more broken Sabbaths will make you his com- 
panion, and fellow-sufferer. Some are now in hell, who 
were on earth breaking with you, perhaps, the last Sabbath. 
Do you not know some one who lately prostituted the sacred 
day with you at work, or in idleness, if not in the public- 
house, who is now dead ? Be sure, that, if he did not truly 
repent, he is a wretched soul, in the fire that can never be 
quenched. And, as surely as you follow his sins, shall you 
suffer his punishment. You cannot tell but this may be the 
last warning you may ever have. 
vol. iv. 12 



6 SABBATH OCCUPATIONS. 

God has the same abhorrence of the sin of breaking the 
Sabbath now, that he had when he commanded his ancient 
people to put to death the person that should be guilty of it ; 
saying, " Ye shall keep the Sabbath, for it is holy unto you : 
every one that defileth it, shall surely be put to death : for 
whosoever doeth any work therein, that soul shall be cut 
off from among his people. Six days may work be done, 
but the seventh is the Sabbath of rest, holy to the Lord. 
Whosoever doeth any work in the Sabbath-day, he shall 
surely be put to death." Exodus 31 : 14, 15. And though 
God does not now require his people to put Sabbath-break- 
ers to death, yet he often calls them into the eternal world, 
while in the act of transgression, to appear before him, with 
all their guilt upon their heads. 

A few of these affecting and alarming providences I shall 
now mention ; and may God grant that they may prove a salu- 
tary and effectual warning to every reader who provokes God 
to come out against him in wrath, by profaning his holy day. 

In a town in Connecticut, a man and his companions, on 
the Sabbath, went out in a boat for the purpose of fishing ; 
but soon the boat upset, and two of them were hurried into 
eternity. 

A number of young men went out, on the Sabbath, to a 
forest, and cut a small tree, for a liberty-pole. And while 
they were bringing it home upon a cart, one of the wheels 
suddenly went down a low place, and the pole struck one 
of the young men upon his head, and killed him upon the 
spot. And there he lay, a fearful spectacle of the wrath of 
God against those who profane the Sabbath. 

A young man, in the state of Connecticut, went, after 
public worship on the Sabbath, to a pond, for the purpose of 
bathing. His parents supposed that he was in his chamber, 
engaged in reading ; and they knew not his danger, till a 
messenger arrived, and informed them that he was drowned. 



SABBATH OCCUPATIONS. 7 

A young lady, in the state of New York, agreed with 
her associates to meet on the Sabbath for a party of pleas- 
ure. When the day arrived, she mounted her horse to join 
her companions. But she had not proceeded far, when she 
was thrown from the horse. Although she was not mate- 
rially injured, yet conscience in some measure awoke, and 
she knew that she was doing wrong. She observed to her 
friends that she would never again visit on the Sabbath ; 
and that she would then return, were it not for disappointing 
her companions. She proceeded, but was soon thrown from 
the horse again, and so severely injured that she shortly 
after died. 

A man in Vermont took up a carpenter's instrument on 
the Sabbath, for the purpose of doing some unnecessary 
business ; and, in using it, he gave himself a wound which 
soon ended his days, and sent him to the tribunal of his 
final Judge. 

A man in the vicinity of New Orleans set out on a Sab- 
bath morning to cross a river, on some worldly business. 
As he could find no boat but one which was fastened to a 
tree by a lock, he attempted to get that. Some persons who 
were present requested him to desist from his purpose. But 
he replied, that he would either go to the other side of the 
river, or to hell. He therefore broke the lock, and entered 
the boat. But he had not gone far when it upset, and he 
was launched into a boundless eternity, in the midst of his 
impiety. 

Several young men in New Hampshire went to the 
Merrimack river, on the Sabbath, to bathe. After being in 
the water about an hour, they came on shore. One of 
them boasted that he had spent many Sabbaths in this way ; 
and said that he meant to spend many more. His compan- 
ions were about to leave the river, and requested him to do 
it. But he refused ; and said that, at any rate, he would 
have another good swim. He then plunged into the river, 



8 SABBATH OCCUPATIOXS. 

and, although one of the best swimmers, sunk to the bottom, 
and was raised a corpse. His spirit had returned to God, 
to receive its irrevocable doom. 

Three young persons in Massachusetts went out, on the 
Sabbath, to amuse themselves by sailing on a mill-pond. 
The next day they were all found at the bottom of the pond. 

A young man in New Hampshire, who had often pro- 
faned the Sabbath by bathing, one Sabbath boasted that he 
had bathed that day in two ponds, and that he would yet 
bathe in another. At evening he was found at the bottom 
of the pond, and carried home a corpse. 

By records which have been kept in a place near one of 
our large rivers, it appears that more than twice as many 
have been drowned there on the Sabbath as on any other day 
of the week. And those who were thus drowned, were cut 
off as in a moment, while breaking the command of God. 

Several lads in Massachusetts went out in a boat, on the 
Sabbath, for amusement. A tithingman saw them, and 
ordered them to come on shore. But they treated his or- 
ders with contempt ; and, while making efforts to get out 
of his reach, they overturned their boat, and found them- 
selves at the bar of God. 

A lamentable occurrence, says the London Baptist Mag- 
azine, took place on Lord's day, July 4, 1824, which may 
prove an additional warning to those who spend the sacred 
hours of the Sabbath in folly. Six young men, belonging 
to the town and vicinity of Ulverstone, Lancashire, resolved 
on having a pleasure excursion in a boat. They set off 
from Ulverstone very early in the morning, and intended to 
proceed down the bay of Morecambe, and visit the southern 
extremity of the island called Walney. The evening ar- 
rived, and the night passed over, but they did not return. 
On Monday, their friends were extremely anxious concern- 
ing their safety, and made inquiry in all directions, but to no 
purpose. The result has proved, alas ! too plainly, that all 



SABBATH OCCUPATIONS. 9 

have perished ; not one having escaped to communicate to 
their friends the tidings of woe, or relate the particulars of the 
accident. It is supposed a squall had upset the boat, which 
was found empty, and precipitated all within into the deep. 
At the date of this, four of the bodies have been found. 

The writer was called on to discharge the painful duties 
of the funeral service at the interment of one of them. He 
was a young man, about thirty-one years of age, the son of 
religious parents, members of the Independent church at 
Ulverstone. They accustomed him, from his infancy, to 
attend the house of God ; but when he arrived at manhood, 
he broke through the restraints of education ; he associated 
with the profligate, and became himself a profligate. Not 
long before the awful catastrophe, in conversation with a 
pious relative, he expressed himself to this effect : " What 
is there," said he, " of pleasure that I have not tried ? yet I 
cannot obtain happiness. I know the good man is the only 
happy one. I would give the world to be such ; but I can- 
not pray." His relative wished him to attend religious ser- 
vice at the chapel. " I would," he replied, " do any thing 
almost that you wish me, except attending there — that I 
cannot do." Such were the sentiments of his heart, and 
such the despairing condition into which he had brought 
himself by his sin. Did he find satisfaction in his iniquity ? 
No ; he confessed the contrary ; he was wretched ; he hon- 
estly acknowledged that ; for, with all his crimes, he ab- 
horred deceit, and urged that as one reason why he could 
not attend the house of God — lest he should seem, by hy- 
pocrisy, to disgrace the cause of religion. His Sabbaths, 
of course, were misspent ; and, it is said, some former es- 
capes from a watery grave might have taught him wisdom. 
Being an excellent swimmer, he thought himself always 
secure ; but the time was come when divine forbearance 
grew weary. He was found a great distance from the place 
where it is supposed the boat upset, and probably sunk, after 
vol. iv. 12* 



10 SABBATH OCCUPATIONS. 

contending with the waves for a great length of time. He 
was naked, and so disfigured as scarcely to be recognized 
by his relatives. The immortal spirit was forever gone. 
Reader, reflect on the wages of iniquity ! Be admonished. 
Art thou a barren fig-tree ? Even now, the axe is laid unto 
the root : if thou bear fruit, well ; but if not, God shall 
speedily cut thee down. Beware, lest he take thee away 
with a stroke ; then a great ransom cannot deliver thee. 

The Sabbath-breaker is exposed continually to instant 
death. And he is exposed to everlasting destruction in hell. 
He must repent and forsake his sins, or he must perish for 
ever. Those who were thus cut off, while breaking the 
command of God, were, perhaps, not greater sinners than 
many who are spared. But, being exposed to sudden death, 
they ought to have been engaged in an employment which 
would have fitted them for heaven. Instead of this, they 
were provoking God to destroy them, by openly profaning 
his precious Sabbath. And what time had they to repent 
or obtain pardon ? And where can the person go, who per- 
sists in transgression till God cuts him off, but to the world 
of despair ? 

My friend, you are in the hands of that God who hath 
commanded you to " remember the Sabbath-day to keep it 
holy." You are breaking his command. And yet without 
him you cannot draw a single breath. He can easily de- 
stroy you ; and if you continue to profane the Sabbath, he 
will do it. " He that, being often reproved, hardeneth his 
neck, shall be destroyed, and that icithout remedy.''' 

Oh ! I beseech you, for the sake of your never-dying 
soul, consider what I now lay before you : read it over and 
over again, till it pleases God to bring you to a sense of 
your guilt and danger, and to work in you true repentance, 
living faith in Jesus Christ, and a firm resolution of paying 
respect and obedience to all his commandments. 



SABBATH OCCUPATIONS. H 

Should you ask me how you ought to keep this day 
holy, I feel great pleasure in directing you. 

If you are sensible of the blessings which the Sabbath 
affords, you will hail its returning dawn with praise and 
thanksgiving ; you will pray to God to free your heart from 
worldly thoughts and cares, and enable you to profit by the 
means of grace which he has afforded you. You should 
employ the early part of the morning in prayer and read- 
ing the Bible, or hearing it read, and thinking upon it. This 
will prepare you for joining in the prayers and praises of 
the congregation, and for healing that Gospel preached, 
which will direct you in the way of life, and is able to make 
you wise unto salvation. 

After worship, you should return home, thinking of 
what you have heard, and talking with your family or 
friends about it, seeking to apply it to yourself, and praying 
to God to make it profitable to you. If you are a husband 
and a father, you must be careful that all your family at- 
tend the worship of God with you. Suffer not trifling ex- 
cuses to keep your wife and children away from the house 
of God. But you must also worship God in your own 
house, as well as in public. Call your family together, 
in the morning and evening, read the Bible to them, pray 
with them and for them, and teach them, as far as you are 
able, the things of salvation. If you cannot instruct your 
children yourself, send them to a neighboring Sabbath- 
school, where they may be taught to read God's word, and 
to know their duty to God and man. Be careful that no 
one belonging to you is suffered to mix in the company of 
those who break the Sabbath, lest their example should 
tempt him to do the same ; nor, under pretence of needful 
recreation, to loiter about the streets or fields in the hours 
between and after public worship. The remainder of the 
day you should seek to improve in such a way as will be 
most profitable to your own soul, and the soul of each in 



12 SABBATH OCCUPATIONS. 

your family ; for if you are determined to keep the Sabbath- 
day holy, you will no longer keep company with those who 
profane it. 

If you have no Bible, or feel your ignorance of the 
truths of religion, seek out, among your neighbors, for some 
religious persons who observe the Sabbath : they will be 
glad to receive you among them : there you will hear the 
Bible read, and you may derive more benefit than you can 
conceive at present from their experience and conversation. 
They will perhaps tell you, that formerly they were in the 
same blind and unconcerned state as yourself; how they 
were awakened to a sense of their lost condition, and brought 
to seek the Lord ; how they sought him by fervent prayer ; 
how they found peace with him through the blood of his 
dear Son Jesus Christ, which " cleanseth from all sin j" how 
he has given them, not only the pardon of their sins, but the 
good hope of his favor ; and taught them by his Holy Spirit 
to see that, although they are guilty in themselves, they are 
accounted righteous before God for the sake of Jesus ; that 
they " shall not come into condemnation, but are passed from 
death unto life." They will bring you to those ministers 
from whom they have derived comfort and instruction in 
righteousness, and they will all pray for you, which is a 
greater blessing than you may be aware of; " for the effect- 
ual, fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." 

If you will spend the Sabbath in such a manner as this, 
you will soon find the comfort of it ; you will no longer 
look upon it as a restraint or drudgery, but will esteem one 
such day better than a thousand spent in idleness and folly ; 
and if so, you will be prepared to conclude it as you began, 
with prayer and thanksgiving. After such a Sabbath, you 
will be able to enter on the business of the following week 
with cheerfulness, and with a lively hope that God will 
abundantly bless your labors. 



No. 117. 

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS 

WITH 

ANSWERS FROM THE BIBLE. 



I. Do you consider that you have an immortal soul, in- 
finitely more valuable than the body ? 

Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and 
the spirit shall return unto God who gave it. Eccl. 12:7. 

Fear not them 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. Matt. 10:28. 

II. Have you ever seriously considered that the human 
soul is in a guilty, polluted state ; and, of course, in danger 
of eternal death ? 

Behold, I was shapen in iniquity ; and in sin did my 
mother conceive me. Psalm 51:5. 

There is none righteous, no, not one. Rom. 3:10. 

We were by nature the children of wrath, even as others. 
Eph. 2 : 3. 

III. Are you aware that the holy Scriptures are full 
of solemn and awakening admonitions, to induce us to con- 
sider the salvation of our souls as the first and most impor- 
tant concern ? 

To-day if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts, 
as in the provocation, in the day of temptation in the wil- 
derness. Heb. 3:1,8. 

Be ye also ready ; for in such an hour as ye think not, 
the Son of man cometh. Matt. 24 : 44. 

What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, 
and lose his own soul ? or what shall a man give in exchange 
for his soul? Matt. 16 : 26. 

IY. Are you not alarmed by the solemn apprehension, 
that peradventure you may be called out of time into eter- 
nity, by some sudden and unexpected stroke ; and not even 
be allowed a moment to think or pray, or in the least de- 
gree to prepare for eternity ? 

Boast not thyself of to-morrow ; for thou knowest not 
what a day may bring forth. Prov. 27 : 1. 



2 IMPORTANT QUESTIONS. 

And he said, This will I do : I will pull down my barns, 
and build greater, and there will I bestow all my fruits and 
my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast 
much goods laid up for many years ; take thine ease, eat, 
drink, and be merry. But God said unto him, Thou fool, 
this night thy soul shall be required of thee. Luke 
12: 18-21. 

V. You have broken the divine law, and offended the 
great God : are you brought to see the sinfulness and dan- 
ger of these things ; and are you humbly confessing, and 
truly repenting of the same ? 

God now commandeth all men everywhere to repent. 
Acts 17:30. 

Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish. Luke 
13: 5. 

Him hath God exalted with his right hand to be a Prince 
and a Saviour, for to give repentance to Israel, and forgive- 
ness of sins. Acts 5:31. 

There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over 
one sinner that repenteth. Luke 15 : 10. 

Godly sorrow worketh repentance to salvation not to 
be repented of. 2 Cor. 7:10. 

VI. If you are indulging the hope of repentance in time 
to come, and promising future amendment, are you not aw- 
fully deceiving yourself, inasmuch as the time of sickness, 
and the hour of death, may suddenly overtake you ? 

And as he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and 
judgment to come, Felix trembled, and answered, Go thy 
way for this time ; when I have a convenient season, I 
will call for thee. Acts 24 : 25. 

For what is your life ? It is even a vapor, that ap- 
peareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away. James 
4:14. 

VII. Do you know that you are in danger of mistaking 
your own character, condition, and prospects ? And if so, 
should you not examine your heart and state before God ? 

The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately 
wicked : who can know it ? Jer. 17:9. 

And you hath he quickened, who were dead in tres- 
passes and sins. Eph. 2:1. 

I know you, that ye have not the love of God in you. 
John 5: 42.* 



IMPORTANT QUESTIONS. 3 

The carnal mind is enmity against God. Rom. 8:7. 

Search me, God, and know my heart: try me, and 
know my thoughts ; and see if there be any wicked way in 
me, and lead me in the way everlasting. Psalm 139 : 23, 24. 

VIII. Have you considered the law of God, that it is 
holy, just, and good ? Have you tried yourself by it ? Do 
you know it is spiritual, and therefore extends to your 
thoughts and intentions, as well as to your words and ac- 
tions ; and that if you offend in one point, you are con- 
demned ? 

Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, 
Thou shalt not kill ; and whosoever shall kill, shall be in 
danger of the judgment : but I say unto you, that whoso- 
ever is angry with his brother without a cause, shall be in 
danger of the judgment. Ye have heard that it was said 
by them of old time, Thou shalt not commit adultery ; but 
I say unto' you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust 
after her, hath committed adultery with her already in his 
heart, Matt. 5 : 21, 22, 27, 28. 

For I was alive without the law once ; but when the 
commandment came, sin revived, and I died. And the 
commandment which was ordained to life, I found to be 
unto death. Rom. 7:9, 10. 

Whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in 
one point, he is guilty of all. James 2 : 10. 

IX. Are you aware that all your own righteousness is 
as filthy rags, and is in itself utterly insufficient to justify 
you ; that it must in no sense be relied upon as the ground 
of your acceptance with God ? 

The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself : God, 
I thank thee that I am not as other men are, extortioners, 
unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice 
in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess. And the 
publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as 
his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, 
God be merciful to me a sinner. I tell you, this man went 
down to his house justified rather than the other. Luke 
18: 11-14. 

But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our right- 
eousnesses are as filthy rags. Isa. 64 : 6. 

Not by works of righteousness which we have done, 
but according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing 



4 IMPORTANT aUESTIONS. 

of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost. Titus 
3:5. 

X. If you are convinced, and affected by these impor- 
tant truths, do you know that the Holy Ghost alone can 
work an effectual change in your heart ; that you must be 
born of the Holy Spirit, or you cannot see the kingdom of 
God? 

Jesus answered, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except 
a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot en- 
ter into the kingdom of God. John 3 : 5. 

Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but 
the Spirit which is of God ; that we might know the things 
that are freely given to us of God. But the natural man 
receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God ; for they are 
foolishness unto him : neither can he know them, because 
they are spiritually discerned. 1 Cor. 2 : 12, 14. 

XI. If you are touched with compunction ; if you cry, 
"What must I do to be saved?" have you considered the 
love of God in o-ivinof his Son to die for the sins of the 
world ? Have you believed that Jesus Christ is God over 
all, blessed for ever, but was made flesh, that he might be 
sin for you, who knew no sin ? And will you listen, poor 
lost sinner, when the ministers of Christ beseech you, in 
Christ's stead, to be reconciled to God ? Will you come to 
him ; w T ill you receive him ; will you venture to cast your 
poor ruined soul on him ; to be redeemed, cleansed from 
all sin by his blood, justified before God ? 

The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and 
we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only-begotten of 
the Father,) full of grace and truth. John 1 : 14. 

He that believeth on him, is not condemned : but he that 
believeth not, is condemned already, because he hath not 
believed in the name of the only-begotten Son of God. 
John 3 : 18. 

For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God ; 
being justified freely by his grace, through the redemption 
that is in Christ Jesus ; whom God hath set forth to be a 
propitiation, through faith in his blood, to declare his right- 
eousness for the remission of sins that are past, through the 
forbearance of God. Rom. 3 : 23-25. 

XII. Are you aware that you cannot escape, if you 
neglect so great salvation ; that unless you are justified by 



IMPORTANT QUESTIONS. 5 

the blood of Jesus Christ, who is the end of the law for 
righteousness to every one that believeth, you will die in 
your sins ? Nay, do you know that it is the greatest of sins 
to despise the blood of Christ, and the atonement he has 
made? 

How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation ; 
which at the first began to be spoken by the Lord, and was 
confirmed unto us by them that heard him? Heb. 2 : 3. 

He that despised Moses' law, died without mercy under 
two or three witnesses : of how much sorer punishment, 
suppose ye, shall he be thought worthy, who hath trodden 
under foot the Son of God, and hath counted the blood of 
the covenant, wherewith he was sanctified, an unholy thing, 
and hath done despite unto the Spirit of grace ? Heb. 
10:28, 29. 

XIII. If you profess to be justified by the blood of Christ 
through faith, and become a child of God, by being born of 
the Spirit, are you aware that the only scriptural and deci- 
sive evidence of your being in that happy state is, the real 
sanctification of your heart, by the Holy Spirit ; so that by 
the Spirit you mortify the deeds of the body, crucifying your 
affections and lusts, and come out from the wicked world ? 

And such Avere some of you ; but ye are washed, but 
ye are sanctified, but ye are justified in the name of the 
Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God. 1 Cor. 6:11. 

Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from 
all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zeal- 
ous of good works. Titus 2:14. 

Teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, 
we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this pres- 
ent world. Titus2:*12. 

Yea, a man may say, Thou hast faith, and I have works : 
show me thy faith without thy works, and I will show thee 
my faith by my works. James 2:18. 

XIV. Do you keep in recollection, that while all spiritual 
blessings are revealed in the exceeding great and precious 
promises of God in Christ, yet they must be sought for, nay, 
wrestled for, by earnest prayer, until you obtain them ; look- 
ing unto Jesus, that by the power of his death your old man 
of sin may be destroyed, and you may walk in newness of life ? 

Ask, and it shall be given you ; seek, and ye shall find ; 
knock, and it shall be opened unto you. Matt. 1:1. 
vol. iv. 13 



ft IMPORTANT QUESTIONS. 

Thus saith the Lord God, I will yet for this be inquired 
of by the house of Israel, to do it for them. Ezek. 36:37. 

Behold, he prayeth. Acts 9:11. 

Pray without ceasing. 1 Thess. 5:17. 

If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto 
your children ; how much more shall your heavenly Father 
give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him? Luke 11 : 13. 

XV. Are you diligent in using the means of grace ? Do 
you love and prize the Lord's day, and keep it holy ? Do 
you consider it your duty and privilege to dedicate it wholly 
to the concerns of the soul and eternity, and to employ it 
in the peculiar service of God ? 

Remember the Sabbath-day to keep it holy. Six days 
shalt thou labor, and do all thy work : but the seventh 
day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God ; in it thou shalt 
not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy 
man-servant, nor thy maid- servant, nor thy cattle, nor the 
stranger that is within thy gates. For in six days the Lord 
made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and 
rested the seventh day: wherefore the Lord blessed the 
Sabbath-day, and hallowed it. Exod. 20 : 8-11. 

XVI. Do you experience that the ways of God are ways 
of pleasantness ? 

Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths 
are peace. Prov. 3 : 17. 

Therefore, being justified by faith, we have peace with 
God, through our Lord Jesus Christ : by whom also we 
have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and 
rejoice in hope of the glory of God. And not only so, but 
we glory in tribulations also ; knowing that tribulation 
worketh patience ; . and patience, experience ; and experi- 
ence, hope. Rom. 5 : 1-4. 

XVII. Do you value, and constantly attend the preach- 
ing of the Gospel ? Do you diligently search the Scrip- 
tures, considering that these are the appointed means of 
your becoming wise unto salvation, through faith that is in 
Christ Jesus ? 

So then, faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the 
word of God. Rom. 10: 17. 

And that from a child thou hast known the holy Scrip- 
tures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation, 
through faith which is in Christ Jesus. 2 Tim. 3:15. 



IMPORTANT QUESTIONS. 7 

O how I love thy law ! It is my meditation all the day. 
Psalm 119: 97. 

Search the Scriptures ; for in them ye think ye have 
eternal life ; and they are they which testify of me. John 
5: 39. 

Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous 
things out of thy law. Psalm 119 : 18. 

These were more noble than those in Thessalonica, in 
that they received the word with all readiness of mind, 
and searched the Scriptures daily, whether those things 
were so. Acts 17 : 11. 

XVIII. Are you constant, diligent, and faithful in self- 
examination, dreading formality and hypocrisy above all 
things ? 

This people draweth nigh unto me with their mouth, 
and honoreth me with their lips ; but their heart is far 
from me. Matt. 15:8. 

They profess that they know God ; but in works they 
deny him, being abominable, and disobedient, and to every 
good work reprobate. Titus 1:16. 

Having a form of godliness, but denying the power 
thereof: from such turn away. 2 Tim. 3:5. 

XIX. Should you not, my dear fellow-immortal, above 
all things, remember and be affected with the thought that 
nothing can support or comfort you in the hour of death, 
but the saving knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ, and a 
scriptural hope of heaven through him ? 

O death, where is thy sting ? O grave, where is thy vic- 
tory ? The sting of death is sin ; and the strength of sin is 
the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the vic- 
tory, through our Lord Jesus Christ. 1 Cor. 15 : 55-57. 

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow 
of death, I will fear no evil ; for thou art with me ; thy rod 
and thy staff they comfort me. Psalm 23:4. 

Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from 
henceforth. - Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from 
their labors; and their works do follow them. Rev. 14 : 13. 

XX. Finally, do you consider, that there will be a sol- 
emn judgment both of the righteous and the wicked ; that 
you, and I, and the whole world, must appear at that day, 
not as spectators, but as parties concerned, and shall receive 
a righteous sentence from the great and holy God ? 



8 IMPORTANT QUESTIONS. 

When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all 
the holy angels with 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 shepherd 
divideth his sheep from the goats. Matt. 25: 31, 32. 

The Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven with his 
holy angels, in flaming fire taking vengeance upon them 
that know not God, and obey not the Gospel of our Lord 
Jesus Christ : who shall be punished with everlasting de- 
struction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory 
of his power.- 2 Thess. 1 : 7-9. 

Be ye therefore ready ; for in such an hour as ye think 
not, the Son of man cometh. Matt. 24 : 44. 

These shall go away into everlasting punishment ; but 
the righteous into life eternal. Matt. 25 : 46. 

Have you read these questions ? Are they not drawn 
from the holy Scriptures ? Are they not infinitely impor- 
tant in themselves ? Do they not respect things which 
relate to your present and eternal interest ? Have you not 
neglected them, either through your hurry in business, or 
your fondness for the amusements and follies of the world ? 
Oh, that you may now be wise, that you may understand 
these things, and seriously consider your latter end ! What 
a mercy that you have not been cut off in your ignorance, 
and in your sins ; that you have not been banished from the 
presence and kingdom of God. God waits to be gracious. 
The door of mercy is yet open ; and yet there is room. Je- 
sus Christ came into the world to save sinners, yea, the very 
chief of sinners. His blood cleanseth from all sin. Now 
is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation. Come, 
poor sinner, to this neglected Redeemer ; he gives righteous- 
ness, and peace, and glory. He casts out none that come 
to him by faith. May the Lord work in you, both to will 
and to do of his own good pleasure ; and the end shall be 
peace and life everlasting. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETT. 



No. 118. 



FRIENDLY CONVERSATION. 



My Dear Friend — Will you permit one, with the best 
intentions, to converse with you a few moments on a very 
important subject ? As a friend, I feel interested in your 
welfare : allow me, then, to inquire, What are you ? What 
ought you to be ? What must you be ? 

I. What are you, my friend ? 

The question is one which each of us should be pre- 
pared to answer, and it surely deserves your serious con- 
sideration. 

You are a rational and an accountable being. The past 
you can remember. You can reflect and reason on what 
is present — on any piece of work you are engaged in, or 
on the friendly Tract in your hand. And the future you 
can anticipate, or look forward to. Hence those alarming 
thoughts which you have felt when a friend has been 
snatched away by the iron hand of death, or when pale 
sickness has threatened to bring you to " the king of ter- 
rors." Of all the creatures on earth, man alone is capable 
of doing this. This faculty you and I have received from 
God our Maker ; and hence, 

We are accountable to him for every thought we think, 
for every word we speak, and for every thing we do. Matt. 
12 : 36. God has not left us to do as we think proper ; he 
has given us a law, which is exceedingly broad, extending 
to thought, word, and action. This law is contained in the 
vol. iv. 13* 



2 FRIENDLY CONVERSATION. 

Bible, and is holy, just, and good. Did you ever think of 
this, my friend ? 

The law of God proves that you are a sinful creature. 
Its righteous demand is, that you love God at all times, with 
all your mind and strength, and your neighbor, whether en- 
emy or friend, as yourself. Now, I will suppose you are 
not as bad as many are, who are openly and daringly " for- 
nicators, idolaters, adulterers, thieves, covetous, drunkards, 
revilers, or extortioners." 1 Cor. 6 : 9, 10. These are in 
a most alarming state indeed ! They " shall not inherit the 
kingdom of God." Awful declaration ! Where, then, shall 
they take up their everlasting abode ? There is only one 
other kingdom to afford them shelter — the kingdom of Satan: 
and who can dwell with "everlasting burnings?" Who 
can take up his abode amidst " devouring fire ?" 

I would rejoice, my friend, if you rank not among these 
open enemies of God, who wear the mark of destruction in 
their forehead. But, alas ! if you have broken only one 
commandment of the law, or have ceased to love God with 
all your heart for a single moment, you are a sinner : he 
that keepeth the whole law, and offendeth in one point, is 
guilty of all. James 2 : 10. Now, this law, which you 
must be conscious you have broken, thunders the most 
dreadful curses on every soul of man that acts as you have 
done. Gal. 3 : 10. It will admit of no compromise. You 
must present a perfect obedience to it, or suffer all the 
weight of its curse for ever ! How many thousands are 
now groaning under this weight, while we are speaking of 
it, and must continue to do so through an awful eternity ! 
God declares your situation to be dreadful. Rom. 3 : 10, 
etc. And yet amidst all this, 

You are a dying creature. As many years as you have 
lived, so many Death has been on his way towards you to 
deprive you of life. Surely, then, he can be at no great 
distance now. Have not his arrows, flying around, cutting 



FRIENDLY CONVERSATION. 3 

off your friends and acquaintances, warned you of his ap- 
proach ? Perhaps now, while you read, he is setting you 
as his mark, and drawing to the head the arrow which will 
break the thread of life, and plunge you into eternity! 
And are you prepared to stand before the judgment-seat of 
Christ, to give an account of the deeds done in the body ? 
Remember, 

You are an immortal creature. Your soul will live for 
ever, either in heaven or in hell. And " as the tree falls, 
so it must lie" for ever. If you die unholy, you will be 
unholy still. 

II. What, then, ought you to he ? 

You ought no longer to remain careless and uncon- 
cerned about your immortal soul. Why should you spend 
your precious moments in contriving how you may gather 
riches, or gratify the desires of the flesh, when every mo- 
ment may be your last? Did God create you only that 
you might gather money, or that you might become expert 
in trade, or that you might eat and drink, and sleep and 
wake, like the brutes that perish ? 

You should diligently read the Bible. For, however 
you may neglect it now, you must be judged by it ere long. 
You should constantly attend the preaching of the Gospel, 
that you may be made wise unto salvation. And, above 
all, you should immediately flee to Jesus Christ, in earnest 
prayer and a living faith, that you may be pardoned through 
his blood, acquitted before God for his righteousness' sake, 
and be made holy by the power of the Spirit. 

Now, let me entreat you (and then I have done) serious- 
ly to inquire, for a moment, 

III. What must you he ? 

You are now either the friend or the enemy of God. If 
you reverence and love him, because he is so holy and so 



4 FRIENDLY CONVERSATION. 

just that he cannot but abhor every kind and degree of sin, 
and is determined to punish it in the most tremendous man- 
ner, while he pardons and saves the penitent and believing 
sinner, then you are the friend of God, interested in the 
merits of his Son, and fitted, by his Spirit, for his presence 
in heaven. But, if not, you are his enemy, fit only for 
hell : and, dying in your present state, you will, you must 
be banished thither. 

If unholy, what would you do in heaven ? What sort 
of company, employment, and pleasure would you find 
there 1 It would be a hell to you, in your present state ; 
and sickness and death will make no change in you for the 
better : they have no power at all to do this : nothing but 
believing on Jesus Christ, loving and obeying him, can pre- 
pare us for, or entitle us to, a place in his kingdom. Both 
you and I, my dear friend, must for ever dwell either with 
angels and just men made perfect in heaven, or with devils 
and damned souls in hell. There is no possible alternative ; 
and how soon our state may be fixed, who can tell ? 

Here I am obliged to stop. But ah ! how can I take 
my leave ! Perhaps all this will be in vain ; the snares of 
the world, the deceitfulness of riches, the wiles of Satan, 
and the depravity of my friend's heart, will cause him to 
throw aside this paper, and forget these infinitely important 
truths ; he may live and die a stranger to salvation through 
Jesus Christ ; and then — how shall I utter it ! — he will be for 
ever undone ! Nay, this friendly endeavor to lead him to 
Christ will then aggravate his final ruin ! But, should these 
truths sink down into your heart, my dear friend, and cause 
you to flee from the wrath to come, to a crucified Saviour, 
my present pain will be all forgot, while I rejoice with 
angels over one sinner that repenteth. Farewell. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 119. 



A STRANGE THING 



I find by conversation with my neighbors, and from 
the perusal of books and pamphlets which they are fre- 
quently putting into my hands, that there is an opinion ex- 
tensively 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, 
involves 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 appears 
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 I know, have been 
considered as facts by others. 

. The first of these is, the solicitude which the apostles 
manifested for the salvation of their hearers. They con- 
versed, and preached, and prayed, and labored, as though 
they were deeply concerned for the salvation of their fellow- 
men. Paul, in his Epistle to the Romans, thus expresses 
the anxiety which he felt for his brethren the Jews : " I say 
the truth in Christ, I lie not, my conscience also bearing me 
witness in the Holy Ghost, that I have great heaviness and 
continual sorrow in my heart. For I could wish myself 
accursed from Christ, for my brethren, my kinsmen accord- 
ing to the flesh." In the first verse of the next chapter, 



2 A STRANGE THING. 

he gives us the reason why he was so anxious respecting 
his brethren : " My heart's desire and prayer to God for 
Israel is, that they might be saved." That the salvation 
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 all 
means save some." Paul was anxious, not only so to con- 
duct himself as to secure the salvation of his fellow-crea- 
tures, but that all to whom the 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 shalt both save thyself and them that hear thee." 

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 conceivable 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 anxious lest they 
be left in total darkness. Paul's anxiety respecting the sal- 
vation of his brethren and others, and the great exertions 
which he made, and endeavored to influence others to make, 
in order to save them, are strange and unaccountable things, 



A STRANGE THING. 3 

upon every other supposition, but that of his 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 apostles, it appears to me strange that their hearers 
were so much alarmed at their preaching. That the 
preaching of the apostles did excite great alarm and anx- 
iety among their hearers, is a fact with which few can be 
unacquainted. On the day of Pentecost, three thousand 
were pricked in their heart, upon the hearing of Peter's 
sermon ; and under the influence of" their deep anxiety, 
they exclaimed, " Men and brethren, what shall we do ?" 
It seems to have been a 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 hearers, while hearing 
that all will be saved, or what evidently implied this, 
should tremble, give signs of the deepest distress, 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 produced. But as the 
opinion under consideration is inconsistent with their having 



4 A STRANGE THING. 

been taught any such thing, it renders the fact of their deep 
anxiety wholly unaccountable. To get rid of the difficulty, 
We will 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 
inexpressibly strange that wicked men manifested so much 
opposition to their preaching. 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 unsanctified 
state are opposed to the doctrine of future and eternal pun- 
ishment, is a truth which every one knows from his own 
experience, as well as from observation. On the supposition 
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 persecute them 
even unto death, only for declaring the glad tidings of the 
salvation of all men, is one of those unaccountable things 
which I acknowledge myself unable to explain. 

4. Upon the supposition that all will be saved, there 
is something peculiarly strange in the language in ichich 
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 



A STRANGE THING. 5 

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 them 
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." Matt. 10: 28. Again, "Fear him, which, after 
he hath killed, hath power to cast into hell ; yea, I say 
unto you, fear him." Luke 12 : 5. It is not a little sur- 
prising that Christ, who, upon the principle here assumed, 
wished to guard his hearers against any apprehensions of 
a punishment beyond this life, should here speak of God's 
being able to destroy the soul as well as the body ; to de- 
stroy the soul in hell, after he had killed the body. 

Besides, I cannot see the conclusiveness of our Saviour's 
reasoning in this place. What if God is able to destroy 
the soul as well as the body 1 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 
destroy 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 that he will not destroy the soul in hell, I 
do not see why the circumstance that he is able to do it 
need to frighten us. I doubt not Christ did reason con- 
clusively. 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 
punishment, 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." Matt. 7 : 13. 14. Now, if Christ 

VOL. IV. 14 



A STRANGE THING. 

believed in the doctrine of universal salvation, I should 
suppose, that instead of exhorting his hearers to enter in 
at the strait gate, he would have told them that they woula 
enter in at the strait gate : that instead of using the alarm- 
ing expression, " Wide is the gate and broad is the way 
that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go 
in thereat," he would have told them honestly, that there 
is no way to destruction, and, of course, that none are go- 
ing there ; that instead of saying, in the style of the illib- 
. eral partialists 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 icicle, that the way thither is 
broad, and that all will find it. 

" 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." John 5 : 
28, 29. Should I hear a preacher, at the present day, use 
such an expression as this, without any explanation, I should 
naturally conclude that he believed, not only in the future 
resurrection of the bodies of all the dead, but of the subse- 
quent 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 perni- 
cious, should have used such an expression. Not one in 
fifty of those who now preach universal salvation, would, it 
is presumed, have the imprudence to drop this expression, 
or any one similar to it, without at the same time so ex- 



A STRANGE THING. 7 

plaining 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 chil- 
dren 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 gathered 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 gnashing of teeth. Then 
shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of 
their Father." Matt. 13 : 38-43. 

When I consider that this is an explanation of a parable 
which Christ had previously spoken, an attempt to make 
more plain to them what he had left in comparative obscurity, 
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 ex- 
pect, if Christ believed it himself, from such a parable as 
this, we find here a distinction made between the children 
of the kingdom and the children of the wicked one ; an 
assertion that those who do iniquity shall be gathered 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 generally, as well as easily, would he have been 
understood, if he had been silent respecting a distinction be- 



g A STRANGE THING. 

tween the children 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 hcquently 
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." Christ was honest and sincere, plain and faithful 
in his instructions. But how he could be so, and 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 angels with 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 shepherd 
divideth his sheep from the goats ; and he shall set the 
sheep on his right hand, but 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." Matt. 25: 31-34, 41, 46. 
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 per- 
dition, be groundless, it is to me peculiarly strange, that 
Christ, who must have known the falsehood of this doctrine, 
should so plainly express it, as he does when he speaks of 



A STRANGE THING. 9 

all nations being gathered before him, of his separating the 
righteous from the wicked as a shepherd divideth the sheep 
from the goats, of his inviting the one to the enjoyment of 
that kingdom prepared for them by his Father, ajid of his 
bidding the other depart accursed into everlasting fire, pre- 
pared 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 so 
unequivocally 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 ac- 
knowledged. 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 representations, but that his real object 
was to communicate the most important practical informa- 
tion ; 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. If they were 
Universalists, designing to teach that there will be no 
punishment after this life, I am wholly unable to reconcile 
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 
vol. iv. 14* 



10 A STRANGE THING. 

opposition to the Universalists, the doctrine of future pun- 
ishment. " We must all appear before the judgment-seat 
of Christ; that every one may receive the things done in 
his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good 
or bad." 2 Cor. 5 : 10. If Paul believed that there is no 
judgment after death, and no punishment but what is suf- 
fered in this life, it is very difficult, to say the least, to tell 
what he meant by our receiving, at the judgment, the things 
done in our bodies. Nor does there appear to be any pro- 
priety 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." 
Heb. 9 : 27. A Universalist might, perhaps, in consequence 
of finding such expressions in the Scriptures, make use of 
them in his public discourses. But if he were a man of 
prudence, he would carefully guard the minds of his hearers 
against a misunderstanding of them, by his own explana- 
tions. When, therefore, I find Paul freely using such 
expressions, and accompanying them with no explanations 
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, tinctured, however, with the belief of future and 
eternal punishment, censured for preaching too much terror. 
And there certainly have 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 relative 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 



A STRANGE THING. H 

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." 2 Thess. 1 : 
7-9. One thing must be obvious to all : should a Universal- 
ist 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 think- 
ing that this is a fact. Although I dislike to charge him 
or any of his brethren with imprudence or insincerity ; 
yet, upon the supposition that they believed in the salvation 
of all men, I say again, I cannot reconcile their language 
with their sentiments, or with any serious intention of com- 
municating them. 

We will now suppose that John was a Universalist, and 
at the same time consider, for a moment, the language 
which he uses 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 heaven 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 



12 A STRANGE THING. 

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 in 
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." 
Rev. 20: 11-15. 

Here I cannot refrain from remarking that it is a strange 
thing, that John, who, as we have supposed, was perfectly 
free from any apprehension of a judgment after death, should 
have hacLjust such a vision as this. And admitting, as we 
must, that he did have it, it is unaccountable that he should 
not have had the prudence to express himself a little differ- 
ently, or to add some explanation to his words, which would 
have satisfied every honest 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 ever be raised from the dead ; that 
he did not design, by the books being opened, and the dead 
being judged out of the things written in the books, to be 
understood that any would hereafter be called to an account 
for what they had done in this life ; and that by his dec- 
laration, " Whosoever was not found written in the book of 
life was cast into the lake of fire," he had not the most dis- 
tant thought of alarming any one with the fear of future 
punishment, although it would then have been impossible, 
upon any fair principles of interpretation, to ascertain what 
he did mean by his expressions, yet he might have appeared 
honest, and sincere, and prudent. But to Jeave his expres- 
sions in the unguarded form in which they now stand, looks 



A STRANGE THING. 13 

like a species of imprudence directly calculated to lead hon- 
est, sincere, and even discerning minds, into the gloomy 
belief of a day of judgment and perdition of ungodly men: 
a species of imprudence which we are sure would destroy 
the popularity, and essentially injure the cause of any Uni- 
versalist at the 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 righteous 
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 sig- 
nal rewards upon the righteous in this life ; yet these in- 
stances, being comparatively rare, must be considered 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 following 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, as 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 hap- 
peneth 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 



14 A STRANGE THING. 

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 
according to their characters. 

Besides, upon the principle that all will be immediately 
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 aught I can see, be- 
come blessings ; as in such cases they are always instru- 
mental of removing the subjects of 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 assumed, be considered as a judg- 
ment upon Noah, and a blessing to those who were destroyed ! 
Reader, look at this subject one moment. Those who per- 
ished, 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 
individual, with no society but his own family, and no pos- 
sessions 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 re- 
ceived 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 inheritance, was obliged 
to linger out a pitiable existence in the little city Zoar, while 



A STRANGE THING. ] 5 

the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah, after one momen- 
tary 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 labors, and hardships, 
and self-denial of a journey through the wilderness, and to 
hear, for the space of forty years, the murmurs and re- 
proaches 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 suf- 
fered 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 struc- 
ture 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 doctrine, 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 reason why so many readily 
receive the false and absurd doctrine which has now been 
considered. In the following Scripture you have an answer: 
" Having the understanding darkened ; being alienated from 
the life of God through the ignorance that is in them, because 
of the blindness of their heart." 



|0 A STRANGE THING. 

THE SINNER IN JUDGMENT 



See the Eternal Judge descending ! 

View him seated on his throne ! 
Now, poor sinner, now lamenting, 

Stand and hear thy awful doom — 
Trumpets call thee ! 

Stand and hear thy awful doom. 

Hear the cries he now is venting, 
Filled with dread of fiercer pain ; 

While in anguish thus lamenting 
That he ne'er was born again : 

Greatly mourning 
That he ne'er was born again. 

" Yonder sits my slighted Saviour, 
With the marks of dying love ; 

Oh, that I had sought his favor, 
When I felt his Spirit move — 

Golden moments, 
When I felt his Spirit move." 

Now, despisers, look and wonder ! 

Hope and sinners here must part ; 
Louder than a peal of thunder, 

Hear the dreadful sound, " Depart !" 
Lost for ever ! 

Hear the dreadful sound, " Depart !" 

PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



]Vo. 120. 



HEAVEN LOST. 



FROM BAXTER'S SAINTS' REST. 



As " godliness hath a promise of the life that now is, 
and of that which is to come," and if we " seek first the 
kingdom of God and his righteousness," then all meaner 
things shall be added unto us, so also are the ungodly threat- 
ened with the loss both of spiritual and temporal blessings ; 
and because they sought not first God's kingdom and right- 
eousness, therefore shall they lose both this and that which 
they did seek, and there shall be taken from them that little 
which they have. If they could but have kept their present 
enjoyments, they would not have much cared for the loss 
of heaven. If they had lost and forsaken all for Christ, they 
would have found all again in him ; for he would have been 
all in all to them. But now they have forsaken Christ for 
other things, they shall lose Christ, and that also for which 
they forsook him, even the enjoyments of time, besides suf- 
fering the torments of hell. 

Among the enjoyments of time, they shall particularly 
lose their presumptuous belief of their interest in the favor 
of God and the merits of Christ ; all their hopes ; all their 
false peace of conscience ; all their carnal mirth ; and all 
their sensual delights. 

They shall lose their presu?nptuous belief of their interest 
in the favor of God and the merits of Christ. This false 

VOL. IV. 15' 



2 HEAVEN LOST. 

belief now supports their spirits, and defends them from the 
terrors that would otherwise seize upon them. But what 
will ease their trouble, when they can believe no longer, nor 
rejoice any longer ? If a man be near to the greatest mis- 
chief, and yet strongly conceit that he is in safety, he may 
be as cheerful as if all were well. If there were no more 
to make a man happy, but to believe that he is so, or shall 
be so, happiness would be far more common than it is like 
to be. As true faith is the leading grace in the regenerate, 
so is false faith the leading vice in the unregenerate. Why 
do such multitudes sit still, when they might have pardon, 
but that they verily think they are pardoned already ? If 
you could ask thousands in hell, what madness brought them 
thither, they would most of them answer, " We thought 
ourselves sure of being saved, till we found ourselves 
damned. We would have been more earnest seekers of 
regeneration and the power of godliness, but we verily 
thought we were Christians before. We have flattered our- 
selves into these torments, and now there is no remedy. 5 ' 
Reader, I must in faithfulness tell thee, that the confident 
belief of their good state, which the careless, unholy, unhum- 
bled multitude so commonly boast of, will prove in the end 
but a soul-damning delusion. There is none of this believ- 
ing in hell. It was Satan's stratagem, that, being blind- 
folded, they might follow him the more boldly ; but then 
he will uncover their eyes, and they will see where they 
are. 

They will lose also their hopes. In this life, though they 
were threatened with the wrath of God, yet their hope of 
escaping it bore up their hearts. We can now scarcely 
speak with the vilest drunkard, or swearer, or scoffer, but 
he hopes to be saved for all this. O happy world, if salva- 
tion were as common as this hope ! Nay, so strong are 



HEAVEN LOST. 3 

men's hopes, that they will dispute the cause with Christ 
himself at judgment, and plead their " having eaten and 
drunk in his presence, and prophesied in his name, and 
in his name cast out devils;" they will deny that ever they 
neglected Christ in hunger, nakedness, or prison, till he 
confutes them with the sentence of their condemnation. 
O, the sad state of these men, when they must bid farewell 
to all their hopes ! " When a wicked man dieth, his expec- 
tation shall perish; and the hope of unjust men perisheth." 
Prov. 11:7. " The eyes of the wicked shall fail, and they 
shall not escape, and their hopes shall be as the giving up 
of the ghost." Job 11 : 20. The giving up the ghost is a 
fit, but terrible resemblance of a wicked man's giving up 
his hopes. As the soul departeth from the body, not with- 
out the greatest pain, so doth the hope of the wicked depart. 
The soul departs from the body suddenly, in a moment, 
which hath there delightfully continued so many years ; 
just so doth the hope of the wicked depart. The soul will 
never more return to live with the body in this world ; and 
the hope of the wicked takes an everlasting farewell of his 
soul. A miracle of resurrection shall again unite soul and 
body, but there shall be no such miraculous resurrection of 
the hope of the damned. 

Methinks, it is the most pitiable sight this world affords, 
to see such an ungodly person dying, and to think of his 
soul and his hopes departing together. With what a sad 
change he appears in another world ! Then, if a man could 
but ask that hopeless soul, " Are you as confident of salva- 
tion as you were wont to be ?" What a sad answer would 
be returned ! O, that careless sinners would be awakened 
to think of this in time ! Reader, rest not till thou canst 
give a reason of all thy hopes, grounded upon Scripture 
promises : that they purify thy heart ; that they quicken thy 



4 HEAVEN LOST. 

endeavors in godliness ; that the more thou hopest, the less 
thou sinnest, and the more exact is thy obedience. If thy 
hopes be such as these, go on in the strength of the Lord, 
hold fast thy hope, and never shall it make thee ashamed. 
But if thou hast not one sound evidence of a work of grace 
on thy soul, cast away thy hopes. Despair of ever being 
saved, except thou be born again ; or of seeing God, without 
holiness ; or of having part in Christ, except thou love him 
above father, mother, or thy own life. 

This kind of despair is one of the first steps to heaven. 
If a man be quite out of his way, what must be the first 
means to bring him in again ? He must despair of ever 
coming to his journey's end in the way that he is in. If his 
home be eastward, and he is going westward, as long as he 
hopes he is right, he will go on ; and as long as he goes on 
hoping, he goes farther amiss. When he despairs of coming 
home except he turn back, then he will return, and then he 
may hope. Just so it is, sinner, with thy soul. Thou art 
born out of the way to heaven, and hast proceeded many a 
year ; thou goest on and hopest to be saved, because thou 
art not so bad as many others. Except thou throw away 
these hopes, and see that thou hast all this while been quite 
out of the way to heaven, thou wilt never return and be 
saved. There is nothing in the world more likely to keep 
thy soul out of heaven, than thy false hopes of being saved, 
while thou art out of the way to salvation. See, then, how 
it will aggravate the misery of the damned, that, with the 
loss of heaven, they shall lose all that hope of it which now 
supports them. 

They will lose all that false yeace of conscience which 
makes their present life so easy. Who would think, that 
sees how quietly the multitude of the ungodly live, that 
they must shortly lie down in everlasting flames ? They. 



HEAVEN LOST. 5 

are as free from the fears of hell as an obedient believer : 
and for the most part have less disquiet of mind than those 
who shall be saved. Happy men, if this peace would prove 
lasting ! " When they shall say, Peace and safety ; then 
sudden destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a 
woman with child, and they shall not escape." 1 Thess. 
5:3. O, cruel peace, which ends in such a war ! The 
soul of every man, by nature, is Satan's garrison ; all is at 
peace in such a man, till Christ comes and gives it terrible 
alarms of judgment and hell, batters it with the ordnance 
of his threats and terrors, forces it to yield to his mere 
mercy and take him for the Governor ; then doth he cast 
out Satan, " overcome him, take from him all his armor 
wherein he trusted, and divideth his spoils," Luke 11 : 22 ; 
and then doth he establish a firm and lasting peace. If, 
therefore, thou art yet in that first peace, never think it will 
endure. Can thy soul have lasting peace, in enmity with 
Christ ? Can he have peace against whom God proclaims 
war ? I wish thee no greater good, than that God break in 
upon thy careless heart, and shake thee out of thy false 
peace, and make thee lie down at the feet of Christ, and 
say, "Lord, what wouldst thou have me to do?" and so 
receive from him a better and surer peace, which will never 
be quite broken ; but be the beginning of thy everlasting 
peace, and not perish in thy perishing, as will the ground- 
less peace of the world. 

They shall lose all their carnal mirth. They will them- 
selves say of their laughter, it is mad ; and of their mirth, 
what doeth it ? Eccl. 2:2. It was but " as the crackling 
of thorns under a pot." Eccl. 7:6. It made a blaze for 
a while, but it was presently gone, and returned no more. 
The talk of death and judgment was irksome to them, be- 
cause it dampened their mirth. They could not endure to 
VOL. iv. 15* 



Q HEAVEN LOST. 

think of their sin and danger, because these thoughts sunk 
their spirits. They knew not what it was to weep for sin, 
or to humble themselves under the mighty hand of God. 
They could laugh away sorrow, and sing away cares, and 
drive away those melancholy thoughts. To meditate, and 
pray, they fancied would be enough to make them utterly 
miserable. Poor souls ! what a misery will that life be, 
where you shall have nothing but sorrow — intense, heart- 
piercing, multiplied sorrow ; when you shall neither have 
the joys of saints nor your own former joys ! Do you think 
there is one merry heart in hell ; or one joyful countenance, 
or jesting tongue ? You now cry, " A little mirth is worth 
a great deal of sorrow." But, surely, a little godly sorrow, 
which would have ended in eternal joy, had been worth 
much more than all your foolish mirth ; for the end of such 
mirth is sorrow. 

They shall also lose all their sensual delights. That 
which they esteemed their chief good, their heaven, their god, 
must they lose, as well as God himself. What a fall will 
the proud, ambitious man have from the top of his honors ! 
As his dust and bones will not be known from the dust and 
bones of the poorest beggar; so neither will his soul be 
honored or favored more than theirs. What a number of 
the great, noble, and learned, will be shut out of the pres- 
ence of Christ ! They shall not find their magnificent 
buildings, soft beds, and easy couches. They shall not 
view their curious gardens, their pleasant meadows, and 
plenteous harvests. Their tables will not be so furnished, 
nor attended. The " rich man " is there no more " clothed 
in purple and fine linen, nor faring sumptuously every 
day." There is no expecting the admiration of beholders. 
They shall spend their time in sadness, and not in sports 
and pastimes. 



HEAVEN LOST. 7 

What an alteration will they then find ! They will 
have no more love of worldly pleasure. How will it even 
cut them to the heart to look each other in the face ! What 
an interview will there then be, cursing the day that ever 
they saw one another ! O, that sinners would now remem- 
ber, and say, " Will these delights accompany us into the 
other world ? Will not the remembrance of them be then 
our torment ? Shall we then take this partnership in vice 
for true friendship ? Why should we sell such lasting, 
incomprehensible joys, for a taste of seeming pleasure ? 
Come, as we have sinned together, let us pray together, 
that God would pardon us ; and let us help one another 
towards heaven, instead of helping to deceive and destroy 
each other." O that men knew but what they desire, when 
they would have all things suited to the desires of the flesh ! 
It is but to desire their temptations to be increased, and 
their snares strengthened. 



As the loss of the saint's rest will be aggravated by los- 
ing the enjoyments of time, it will be much more so by 
suffering the torments of hell. The exceeding great- 
ness of such torments may appear by considering the prin- 
cipal author of them, who is God himself; the place or 
state of torment ; that these torments are the fruit of divine 
vengeance ; that Satan and sinners themselves shall be 
God's executioners ; that these torments shall be universal, 
without mitigation, and without end. 

The principal author of hell-torments is God himself. 
As it is no less than God whom sinners have offended, so it 
is no less than God who will punish them for their offences. 
He hath prepared those torments for his enemies. His con- 
tinued anger will still be devouring them. His breath of 



g HEAVEN LOST. 

indignation will kindle the flames. His wrath will be an 
intolerable burden to their souls. If it were but a creature 
they had to do with, they might bear it ; but woe to him 
that falls under the strokes of the Almighty ! " It is a fear- 
ful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." Heb. 
10 : 13. It were nothing in comparison to this, if the world 
were against them, or if the strength of all creatures were 
united in one to inflict their penalty. They had now rather 
venture to displease God, than displease a landlord, a cus- 
tomer, a master, a friend, a neighbor, or their own flesh ; 
but then they will wish a thousand times in vain, that they 
had been hated of all the world, rather than have lost the 
favor of God. What a consuming fire is his wrath f If it 
be kindled here but a little, how do we wither like the 
grass ! How soon doth our strength decay, and turn to 
weakness, and our beauty to deformity ! The flames do 
not so easily run through the dry stubble, as the wrath of 
God will consume these wretches. They that could not 
bear a prison, or gibbet, or fire, for Christ, nor scarce a 
few scoffs, how will they now bear the devouring flames of 
divine wrath ? 

The place, or state of torment is purposely ordained to 
glorify the justice of God. When God would glorify his 
power, he made the worlds. The comely order of all his 
creatures declareth his wisdom. His providence is shown, 
in sustaining all things. When a spark of his wrath kindles 
upon the earth, the whole world, except only eight persons, 
are drowned; Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah, and Zeboim, are 
burnt with fire from heaven ; the sea shuts her mouth upon 
some, the earth opens and swallows up others ; the pesti- 
lence destroys by thousands. What a standing witness of 
the wrath of God, is the present deplorable state of the 
Jews ! Yet the glorifying of the mercy and justice of God 



HEAVEN LOST. 9 

is intended most eminently for the life to come. As God 
will then glorify his mercy in a way that is now beyond the 
comprehension of the saints that must enjoy it ; so also will 
he manifest his justice to be indeed the justice of God. 
The everlasting flames of hell will not be thought too hot 
for the rebellious; and when they have there burned 
through millions of ages, he will not repent him of the evil 
which is befallen them. Woe to the soul that must thus 
endure for ever the wrath of the Almighty, and burn in the 
flames of his jealousy, and never be consumed ! 

The torments of the damned must be extreme, because 
they are the effect of divine vengeance. When the great 
God shall say, " My rebellious creatures shall now pay for 
all the abuse of my patience. Remember how I waited 
your leisure in vain, how I stopped to persuade and en- 
reat you. Did you think I would always be so slighted ?" 
Then will he be revenged for every abused mercy, and for 
all their neglects of Christ and grace. O that men would 
foresee this, and please God better in preventing their. woe ! 
Wretched creatures ! when " he that made them will not 
have mercy on them, and he that formed them will show 
them no favor." Isaiah 27: 4, 11. "As the Lord re- 
joiced over them to do them good ; so the Lord will rejoice 
over them to destroy them, and to bring them to nought." 
Deut. 28 : 63. Woe to the souls whom God rejoiceth to 
punish ! " He will laugh at their calamity, he will mock 
when their fear cometh ; when their fear cometh as desola- 
tion, and their destruction cometh as a whirlwind ; when 
distress and anguish cometh upon them." Prov. 1 : 26, 27. 
Terrible thing, w T hen none in heaven or earth can help them 
but God, and he shall rejoice in their calamity ! Though 
Scripture speaks of God's laughing and mocking, not liter- 
ally, but after the manner of men ; yet it is such an act of 



XO HEAVEN LOST. 

God in tormenting the sinner, as cannot otherwise be more 
fitly expressed. 

Consider, that Satan and themselves shall be God's exe. 
cutioners. He that was here so successful in drawing them 
from Christ, will then be the instrument of their punish- 
ment for yielding to his temptations. That is the reward 
he will give them for all their service ; for their rejecting 
the commands of God, and forsaking Christ, and neglecting 
their souls, at his persuasion. If they had served Christ as 
faithfully as they did Satan, he would have given them a 
better reward. It is also most just, that they should be 
their own tormentors, that they may see that their whole 
destruction is of themselves ; and then who can they com- 
plain of but themselves ? 

Consider also, that their torment will be universal. As 
all parts have joined in sin, so must they all partake in 
the torment. The soul, as it was the chief in sinning, shall 
be the chief in suffering ; and as it is of a more excellent 
nature than the body, so will its torments far exceed bodily 
torments ; and as its joys far surpass all sensual pleasures, 
so the pains of the soul exceed corporal pains. It is not 
only a soul, but a sinful soul, that must suffer. Fire will 
not burn, except the fuel be combustible ; but if the wood 
be dry, how fiercely will it burn. The guilt of their sins 
will be to damned souls like tinder to gunpowder, to make 
the flames of hell take hold upon them with fury. 

The body must also bear its part. The body, which 
was so carefully looked to, so tenderly cherished, so curi- 
ously dressed, what must it now endure ! How are its 
haughty looks now taken down ! How little will those 
flames regard its comeliness and beauty ! Those eyes 
which were wont to be delighted with curious sights, must 
then see nothing but what shall terrify them; an angry 



HEAVEN LOST \\ 

God above them, with those saints whom they scorned, 
enjoying the glory which they have lost ; and about them 
will be only devils and damned souls. How will they 
look back, and say, " Are all our feasts, and games, and 
revels come to this V Those ears which were accustomed 
to music and songs, shall hear the shrieks and cries of 
their damned companions; children crying out against 
their parents, that gave them encouragement and example 
in evil ; husbands and wives, masters and servants, minis- 
ters and people, magistrates and subjects, charging their 
misery upon one another, for discouraging in duty, conniv- 
ing at sin, and being silent when they should have plainly 
foretold the danger. Thus will soul and body be compan- 
ions in woe. 

Far greater will these torments be because without mit- 
igation. In this life, when told of hell, or conscience 
troubled their peace, they had comforters at hand; their 
carnal friends, their business, their company, their mirth. 
They could drink, play, or sleep away their sorrows. But 
now, all these remedies are vanished. Their hard, pre- 
sumptuous, unbelieving heart was as a wall to defend them 
against trouble of mind. Satan was himself their com- 
forter, as he was to our first mother : " ' Hath God said, ye 
shall not eat? Ye shall not surely die.' Doth God tell 
you that you shall lie in hell 1 It is no such matter. God 
is more merciful. Or, if there be a hell, what need you 
fear it ? Are not you Christians ? Was not the blood of 
Christ shed for you ?" Thus as the Spirit of Christ is the 
Comforter of the saints, so Satan . is the comforter of the 
wicked. Never was a thief more careful lest he should 
awake the people, when he is robbing the house, than Satan 
is not to awaken a sinner. But when the sinner is dead, 
then Satan hath done flattering and comforting. Which way, 



12 HEAVEN LOST. 

then, will the forlorn sinner look for comfort? They that 
drew him into the snare, and promised him safety, now for- 
sake him, and are forsaken themselves. His comforts are 
gone, and the righteous God, whose forewarnings he made 
light of, will now make good his word against him, to the 
least tittle. 

But the greatest aggravation of these torments will be 
their eternity. When a thousand millions of ages are past, 
they are as fresh to begin as on the first day. If there 
were any hope of an end, it would ease the damned to 
foresee it ; but for ever is an intolerable thought. They 
were never weary of sinning, nor will God be weary of 
punishing. They never heartily repented of sin, nor will 
God repent of their suffering. They broke the laws of the 
eternal God, and therefore shall suffer eternal punishment. 
They knew it was an everlasting kingdom which they re- 
fused, and what wonder if they are everlastingly shut out 
of it ? Their immortal souls were guilty of the trespass, 
and therefore must immortally suffer the pains. What 
happy men would they think themselves, if they might 
have lain still in their graves, or might but there lie down 
again ! How will they call and cry, " O death ! whither 
art thou now gone ? Now come, and cut off this doleful 
life. O that these pains would break my heart, and end 
my being ! O that I might- once at last die ! O that I had 
never had a being !" 

These groans will the thoughts of eternity wring from 
their hearts. They were wont to think sermons and pray- 
ers long; how long, then, will they think these endless 
torments ? What difference is there between the length 
of their pleasures and their pains ! The one "continued but 
a moment, the other endureth through all eternity. Sinner, 
remember how time is almost gone. Thou art standing at 



HEAVEN LOST. J3 

the door of eternity ; and death is waiting to open the door, 
and put thee in. Go, sleep out a few more nights, and stir 
about a few more days on earth, and then thy nights and 
days shall end ; thy thoughts, and cares, and pleasures, 
shall be devoured by eternity ; thou must enter upon the 
state which shall never be changed. As the joys of heaven 
are beyond our conception, so are the pains of hell. Ever- 
lasting torment is inconceivable torment. 

But methinks I see the obstinate sinner desperately re- 
solving, " If I must be damned, there is no remedy ; rather 
than I will live as the Scriptures require, I will put it to 
the venture ; I shall escape as well as the rest of my neigh- 
bors, and we will even bear it as well as we can." 
Alas ! poor creature, let me beg this of thee, before thou 
dost so resolve, that thou wouldst lend me thy attention to 
a few questions, and weigh them with the reason of a 
man. 

Who art thou, that thou shouldst bear the wrath of God ? 
Art thou a God, or a man ? What is thy strength ? Is it 
not the strength of wax or stubble to resist the fire ; or as 
chaff to the wind ; or as dust before the fierce whirlwind ? 
If thy strength were as iron, and thy bones as brass; if thy 
foundation were as the earth, and thy power as the heavens ; 
yet shouldst thou perish at the breath of his indignation ! 
How much more, when thou art but a piece of breathing 
clay, kept a few days from being eaten with worms, by 
the mere support and favor of him whom thou art thus 
resisting ? 

Why dost thou tremble at the signs of Almighty power 

and wrath : at claps of thunder, or flashes of lightning ; 

or that unseen power which rends in pieces the mighty 

oaks, and tears down the strongest buildings ; or at the 
vol. iv. 16 



14 HEAVEN LOST. 

plague, when it rages around thee 1 If thou hadst seen the 
plagues of Egypt, or the earth swallow up Dathan and 
Abiram, or Elijah bring fire from heaven to destroy the 
captains and their companies, would not any of these sights 
have daunted thy spirits ? How, then, canst thou bear the 
plagues of hell ? Why art thou dismayed with such small 
sufferings as befall thee here : a toothache ; a fit of the 
gout, or stone ; the loss of a limb ; or falling into beggary 
and disgrace ? And yet, all these laid together will be one 
day accounted a happy state, in comparison of that which 
is suffered in hell. 

Why does the approach of death so much affright thee ? 
O, how cold it strikes to the heart ! And would not the 
grave be accounted a paradise, compared with that place 
of torment which thou slightest 1 Is it an intolerable thing 
to burn part of the body, by holding it in the fire 1 What, 
then, will it be to suffer ten thousand times more for ever 
in hell ? Why does the thought or mention of hell occasion 
any disquiet in thy spirits? And canst thou endure the 
torments themselves ? W^hy doth the rich man complain 
to Abraham of his torments in hell? Or thy dying com- 
panions lose their courage, and change their haughty 
language ? 

Didst thou never see or speak with a man under de- 
spair ? How uncomfortable was his talk ! How burthen- 
some his life ! Nothing he possessed did him good ; he had 
no sweetness in meat or drink ; the sight of friends troubled 
him ; he was weary of life, and fearful of death. If the 
misery of the damned can be endured, why cannot a man 
more easily endure these foretastes of hell ? What if thou 
shouldst see the devil appear to thee in some terrible shape ? 
Would not thy heart fail thee, and thy hair stand up ? 
And how wilt thou endure to live for ever, where thou 



HEAVEN LOST. 15 

shalt have no other company but devils and the damned, 
and shalt not only see them, but be tormented with them 
and by them ? 

Let me once more ask, if the wrath of God be so light, 
why did the Son of God himself make so great a matter 
of it ? It made him " sweat as it were great drops of blood 
falling down to the ground." The Lord of life cried, " My 
soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." And on the 
cross, " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me V 
Surely, if any one could have borne these sufferings easily, 
it would have been Jesus Christ. He had another measure 
of strength to bear them than thou hast. Woe to thee, sin- 
ner, for thy mad security ! Dost thou think to find that 
tolerable to thee, which was so heavy to Christ ? Nay, the 
Son of God is cast into a bitter agony and bloody sweat, 
only under the curse of the law ; and yet thou, a feeble 
worm, makest nothing to bear also the curse of the gospel, 
which requires a " much sorer punishment." The good 
Lord bring thee to thy right mind by repentance, lest thou 
buy thy folly at too dear a rate ! 

And now, reader, I demand thy resolution : What use 
wilt thou make of all this ? Shall it all be lost to thee ? or 
wilt thou consider it in good earnest ? Thou hast cast away 
many a warning of God ; wilt thou do so by this also ? 
Take heed. God will not always stand warning and threat- 
ening. The avenging hand is lifted up, the blow is coming, 
and woe to him on whom it lighteth ! Dost thou throw 
away the book, and say, it speaks of nothing but hell and 
damnation ? Thus thou usest also to complain of the 
preacher. But wouldst thou not have us tell thee of these 
things ? Should we not be guilty of the blood of thy soul 
by keeping silent that which God hath charged us to make 
known ? 



IQ HEAVEN LOST. 

Wouldst thou perish in ease and silence, and have us to 
perish with thee, rather than displease thee, by speaking the 
truth ? If thou wilt be guilty of such inhuman cruelty, 
God forbid we should be guilty of such folly. This kind 
of preaching or writing is the ready way to be hated ; and 
the desire of applause is so natural, that few delight in such 
a displeasing way. But consider, are these things true, or 
are they not ? If they were not true, I would heartily join 
with thee against any that fright people without a cause. 
But if these threatenings be the word of God, what a wretch 
art thou, that wilt not hear it and consider it ! If thou art 
one of the people of God, this doctrine will be a comfort to 
thee, and not a terror. If thou art yet unregenerate, me- 
thinks thou shouldst be as fearful to hear of heaven as of 
hell, except the bare name of heaven or salvation be suffi- 
cient. Preaching heaven and mercy to thee, is entreating 
thee to seek them, and not reject them ; and preaching hell, 
is but to persuade thee to avoid it. If thou wert quite past 
hope of escaping it, then it were in vain to tell thee of hell ; 
but as long as thou art alive, there is hope of thy recovery, 
and therefore all means must be used to awake thee from 
thy lethargy. 

Alas, what, heart can now possibly conceive, or what 
tongue express, the pains of those souls that are under the 
wrath of God ? Then, sinners, you will be crying to Jesus 
Christ, " Oh, mercy ! Oh, pity, pity on a poor soul !" Why, 
I do now, in the name of the Lord Jesus, cry to thee, " Oh, 
have mercy, have pity, man, upon thy own soul !" Shall 
God pity thee, who wilt not be entreated to pity thyself? 
If thy horse see but a pit before him, thou canst scarcely 
force him in ; and wilt thou so obstinately cast thyself into 
hell, when the danger is foretold thee ? " Who can stand 
before the indignation of the Lord ? and who can abide the 



HEAVEN LOST. yj 

fierceness of his anger?" Nahum 1: 6. Methinks thou 
shouldst need no more words, but presently cast away thy 
soul-damning sins, and wholly deliver up thyself to Christ. 
Resolve on it immediately, and let it be done, that I may see 
thy face in rest among the saints. May the Lord persuade 
thy heart to strike this covenant without any longer delay ! 
But if thou be hardened unto death, and there be no remedy, 
yet say not another day but that thou wast faithfully warned, 
and hadst a friend that would fain have prevented thy dam- 
nation. 

And now, reader, darest thou go on in thy common, 
careless course, against the plain evidence of reason and 
commands of God, and against the light of thy own con- 
science ? Darest thou live as loosely, sin as boldly, and 
pray as seldom as before ? Darest thou profane the Sab- 
bath, slight the service of God, and think of thine everlast- 
ing state as carelessly as before ? Or dost thou not rather 
resolve to " gird up the loins of thy mind," and set thyself 
wholly to the work of thy salvation, and break through the 
oppositions, and slight the scoffs and persecutions of the 
world, and " lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth 
so easily beset thee, and run with patience the race that is 
set before thee?" I hope these are thy full resolutions! 
Yet, because I know the obstinacy of the heart of man, and 
because I am solicitous thy soul might live, I once more 
entreat thy attention to the following questions ; and I com- 
mand thee from God, that thou stifle not thy conscience, nor 
resist conviction, but answer them faithfully, and obey 
accordingly : 

If, by being diligent in godliness, you could grow rich, 

get honor or preferment in the world, be recovered from 

sickness, or live for ever in prosperity on earth ; what a life 

would you lead, and what pains would you take in the ser- 

vol. iv. 16* 



JQ HEAVEN LOST. 

vice of God 1 And is not the saint's rest a more excellent 
happiness than all this ? 

If it were felony to break the Sabbath, neglect secret 
or family worship, or be loose in your lives, what manner 
of persons would you then be ? And is not eternal death 
more terrible than temporal ? If God usually punished with 
some present judgment every act of sin, as he did the lie 
of Ananias and Sapphira, what kind of life would you 
lead 1 And is not eternal wrath far more terrible ? If one 
of your acquaintance should come from the dead, and tell 
you that he suffered the torments of hell for those sins you 
are guilty of, what manner of persons would you after- 
wards be 1 How much more should the warnings of God 
affright you 1 

If you knew that this were the last day you had to live 
in the world, how would you spend it ? And you know not 
but it may be your last, and are sure your last is near. If 
you had seen the general dissolution of the world, and all 
the pomp and glory of it consumed to ashes, what would 
such a sight persuade thee to do ? Such a sight you shall 
certainly see. 

If you had seen the judgment set, and the books opened, 
and the wicked stand trembling on the left hand of the Judge, 
and the godly rejoicing on the right hand, and their different 
sentence pronounced ; what persons would you have been 
after such a sight ? This sight you shall one day surely 
see. 

If you had seen hell opened, and all the damned there 
in their endless torments ; also heaven opened, as Stephen 
did, and all the saints there triumphing in glory ; what a 
life would you lead after such sights? These- you will see 
before it be long. 

If you had lain in hell but one year, or one day, or hour, 



HEAVEN LOST. jg 

and there felt the torments you now hear of; how seriously 
would you then speak of hell, and pray against it ! And 
will you not take God's word for the truth of this, except 
you feel it ? 

Or if you had possessed the glory of heaven but one 
year, what pains would you take, rather than be deprived 
of such incomparable glory ! 

Thus I have said enough, if not to stir up the sinner to 
a serious working out his salvation, yet at least to silence 
him, and leave him inexcusable at the judgment of God. 
Only as we do by our friends when they are dead, and our 
words and actions can do them no good, yet, to testify our 
affection for them, we weep and mourn ; so will I also do 
for these unhappy souls. It makes my heart tremble, to 
think how they will stand before the Lord confounded and 
speechless ! When he shall say, " Was the world, or Satan, 
a better friend to you than I ? Or had they done more for 
you than I had done ? Try now whether they will save 
you, or recompense you for the loss of heaven, or be as good 
to you as I would have been." What will the wretched 
sinner answer to any of this ? 

But, though man will not hear, we may hope in speak- 
ing to God. " O thou that didst weep and groan in spirit 
over a dead Lazarus, pity these dead and senseless souls, 
till they are able to weep and groan in pity to themselves ! 
As thou hast bid thy servant speak, so speak now thyself; 
they will hear thy voice speaking to their hearts, who will 
not hear mine speaking to their ears. Lord, thou hast long 
knocked at these hearts in vain ; now break the doors, and 
enter in." 



20 HEAVEN LOST. 

THE NEW BIRTH. 

Awaked by Sinai's awful sound, 
My soul in guilt and thrall I found 

Exposed to endless woe ; 
Eternal truth did loud proclaim, 
The sinner must be born again, 

Or else to ruin go. 

Amazed I stood, but could not tell 
Which way to shun the gates of hell, 

For death and hell drew near. 
I strove indeed, but strove in vain, 
" The sinner must be born again !" 

Still sounded in my ear. 

When to the law I trembling fled, 
It poured its curses on my head ; 

I no relief could find. 
This fearful truth renewed my pain, 
" The sinner must be born again !" 

And whelmed my tortured mind. 

Again did Sinai's thunders roll, 
And guilt lay heavy on my soul, 

A vast oppressive load : 
Alas ! I read and saw it plain, 
The sinner must be born again, 

Or feel the wrath of God. 

The saints I heard with rapture tell 
How Jesus conquered death and hell, 

And broke the fowler's snare ; 
Yet when I found this truth remain, 
The sinner must be born again, 

I sunk in deep despair. 

But while I thus in anguish lay, 

The gracious Saviour passed this way, 

And felt his pity move : 
The sinner, by his justice slain, 
Now by his grace is born again, 

And sings Redeeming love. Ockum. 



No. 121 



ON 



THE LORD'S PRAYER 



After this manner therefore pray ye : Our Father which art in 
heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be 
done in earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. 
And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not 
into temptation, Taut deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, 
and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen. — Matt. 6 : 9-13. 

Prayer to God is the duty of all men. " In him we 
live, and move, and have our being." " Every good and 
perfect gift cometh down from the Father of lights." " Men 
ought, therefore, always to pray, and not to faint." We are 
so sinful, that we always need mercy. We are so weak, 
that we always need help. We are so empty, that we 
always need supplies. We are so exposed, that we always 
ieed protection. How reasonable, then, is it, that we should 
continue in prayer ! 

But we greatly need direction in prayer. We know 
not how to pray, nor what to pray for, as we ought. There- 
fore Christ has been pleased to teach us in these words, 
which contain an excellent form and pattern of prayer. After 
this manner we are to pray : 

OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN. We 
should always begin our prayers with proper thoughts of 
God. And what thoughts of him are so proper as those sug- 
gested by these words : namely, his goodness and his great- 
ness? As a Father, he is good. As a heavenly Father, 



2 ON THE LORD'S PRAYER. 

he is great. Thus we are taught to approach him both with 
confidence and with reverence. 

As the Creator of all men, God may, in a general sense, 
be called the Father of all ; but it is in a higher and more 
endearing sense that he is here called a Father : as being 
reconciled to believing sinners through the blood of Jesus 
Christ. God is angry with the wicked every day. He does 
not look down upon them with approbation, nor do they look 
up to him with confidence and love. Therefore this prayer 
is not fit for the use of a man who lives in sin ; whose car- 
nal mind is enmity against God. How dares the swearer, 
the liar, the drunkard, call God a Father ? God will not 
own the relation. If such men pray, might they not rather 
cry, Our father which art in hell ? for Christ said to such 
persons, " Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of 
your father ye will do.*' John 8 : 44. 

But when a person is convinced of his state as a sinner; 
when he is enlightened to know Christ as a Saviour ; and 
when, by a lively faith, he comes to God through him ; then 
God is reconciled to him ; his anger is turned away, and he 
comforts him. Then he may look up to God, through Christ, 
as a merciful God, " forgiving iniquity, transgression, and 
sin;" for, " to as many as receive him," and the atonement 
through him, " he giveth power to become the sons of God, 
even to them that believe in his name;" and to such only 
is the " Spirit of adoption " given, whereby they cry " Abba, 
Father." For it is one thing to use the word Father, and 
another to approach him, as an affectionate child comes to a 
tender parent, with a persuasion of his being able and will- 
ing to supply his wants. To such persons this name is full 
of comfort ; for they are emboldened to believe, that if 
earthly parents, though evil, know how to give good gifts to 
their children, God, our heavenly Father, is much more dis- 
posed to do them good, and bless them with all spiritual 
blessings in Christ Jesus. 

But this name teaches us also the greatness of God. 
Children ought to treat their earthly parents with great 



ON THE LORD'S PRAYER. 3 

respect, but what reverence is due to the Father of spirits, 
whose throne is in the heavens ! Not that God is confined 
to heaven ; but he is said to dwell there, because there he 
displays the brightest beams of his glorious majesty, and 
there angels and saints bow low before his feet, crying, day 
and night, " Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty !" 
Such thoughts as these should possess our minds, when we 
say, Our Father which art in heaven. 

HALLOWED BE THY NAME. This petition is 
placed first, to show us that our first and chief desire should 
be, that God may he glorified. The name of God signifies 
God himself, as he is pleased to make himself known to us 
by his titles, his words, and his works. In his Gospel, more 
especially, all his glorious perfections shine and unite. There 
he shows himself " a just God and a Saviour." Now, to 
hallow God's name, is to sanctify it, to hold it sacred ; for, to 
sanctify any thing, is to set it apart from every profane and 
common use. In this petition, then, we pray that God would 
enable us to glorify him in all things whereby he makes 
himself known. We must glorify him in our hearts, by high, 
holy, reverent thoughts of him. We must glorify him in 
our language, by always speaking of him in the most solemn 
manner. We must glorify him in our actions ; whether we 
eat or drink, all should be done with a view to the glory of 
God. 

But let every one that fears God remember, that the 
glory of God is the first and chief thing that we are to ask 
for, and to desire, and to seek, even before our own good. 
That we and others may do this, we are taught, in the next 
place, to pray, 

THY KINGDOM COME.' This does not mean the 
kingdom of God's providence, which rules over all : this 
cannot be said to come, for it is come already, and will never 
cease : but it means that spiritual kingdom which Christ 
came to set up in the world ; that kingdom of the Messiah, 
which the pious Jews had long expected, and which, when 
this prayer was given to the disciples, was said to be at hand. 



4 ON THE LORD'S PRAYER. 

This kingdom of Christ did come soon after. It was set up 
when Christ ascended to heaven, and the Spirit descended 
from it. But still the prayer is as necessary as ever ; for 
we pray that this kingdom may be established in our hearts, 
and extended to all the world. 

The kingdom of Christ is erected on purpose to destroy 
the kingdom of Satan. The devil has usurped a dominion 
over all mankind ; and though he does not now possess the 
bodies of men, as once he did, yet he " rules in the hearts of 
the children of disobedience," who are "led captive by him 
at his will ;" and in some parts of the world he is actually 
worshipped. In order to destroy this infernal kingdom, 
Jesus Christ came into the word ; he overcame him in all 
his attempts to seduce him ; and on the cross he spoiled 
principalities and powers, and conquered when he fell : he 
deprived Satan of his power, and led captivity captive. 
Wherever he sends his Gospel, he proclaims liberty ; and 
wherever he gives his grace to any person, there Satan 
is dethroned ; and being made willing to submit to Christ, 
the believer is translated out of Satan's kingdom of sin 
and darkness into the holy and happy kingdom of God's 
dear Son. 

When we say, Thy kingdom come, we pray that the 
light, power, liberty, and glory of Christ's spiritual kingdom, 
may be more fully experienced in our own hearts. For, as 
one observes, " In worship, we pay our homage to God. In 
the word, we come to learn his laws. In the Lord's Supper, 
we renew our vows of allegiance. In alms-giving, we pay 
him tribute. In prayer, we ask him leave ; and praise is 
our rent to the great Lord, from whom we hold our all." 
Thus also we express our soul's desire for our poor fellow- 
sinners. Deeply affected with the state of heathens, Jews, 
Mahometans, and sinners of all descriptions, we pour forth 
our souls in holy longings for their conversion, earnestly 
desiring the joyful day when it shall be said, " The king- 
doms of this world are become the kingdom of our Lord and 
of his Christ; and he shall reign for ever and ever." 



ON THE LORD'S PRAYER. 5 

THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN 
HEAVEN. God, the glorious Maker of the world, has 
a right to govern it. His will is the proper rule of his 
creatures' actions ; and it is obeyed by them all, except by 
men and devils. God has made known his will to us in his 
word. The law of the ten commandments shows what obe- 
dience he requires of us ; but, as fallen creatures, we have 
broken it, and rendered ourselves incapable of obtaining life 
by it. God has graciously given us the law of faith, or the 
Gospel of salvation, by Jesus Christ ; and "this is his com- 
mandment, that we should believe on the name of his Son 
Jesus Christ, and love one another." But the natural man 
refuses obedience to this also; he is either unconcerned 
about salvation, or dislikes the way of it ; and while he 
remains in this state, he cannot do the will of God in any 
respect acceptably ; for " without faith it is impossible to 
please him." 

How necessary, then, is this petition, Thy will be done ! 
It includes, 

1. A desire to know it; as the Psalmist prays, "Teach 
me to do thy will, for thou art my God," Psa. 143 : 10 ; or, 
as converted Saul, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do V 

2. A heart to do it : a heart on which God has written 
his laws. I remember a person who told me, when he 
was teaching his child to say this prayer, and came to this 
petition, " Thy will be done," the child refused to say it, 
and would have it, " My will be done." This poor simple 
child was far more honest than many of us, who say, " Thy 
will be done," and yet determine to follow our own will ; 
but the real Christian's desire is, " O that there were such 
a heart in me, to fear God, and to keep his commandments 
always !" Deut. 5 : 29. We pray also, 

3. For strength to do the will of God ; for to will may 
be present, and yet how to perform that which is good we 
may not find ; but, knowing that the Lord worketh in his 
people both to will and to do, we hereby pray that he would 
" make us perfect in every good work, to do his will ; work- 

vol. iv. 17 



(J ON THE LORD'S PRAYER. 

ing in us that which is well-pleasing in his sight, through 
Jesus Christ." This petition also includes holy submission 
to the will of his providence, however afflictive; and that 
we may learn to bear it without murmuring. 

We pray for grace to do all this, in imitation of the spirits 
of just men made perfect, and of the sinless angels in heaven. 
" God's will is done in heaven." 

GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD. This 
petition implies our dependence on God for food and all the 
supports and comforts of life. Man, as a fallen creature, 
has forfeited the good things of this life, and deserves to be 
deprived of them all. The earth was cursed for man's sake, 
therefore in sorrow and labor he eats of it ; but it is through 
the goodness of God that he has power to labor; that rain 
from heaven and fruitful seasons are granted. It is "he 
who gives us our corn, and wine, and oil ;" and though the 
poor man works hard for his daily bread, it is no less the 
gift of God. To him also we owe the appetite that makes 
our food pleasant, and the power of digestion that makes it 
nourishing. 

Moderation in our desires is here expressed. We are 
not taught to ask for riches and honors, which are often the 
destructive snares of those who possess them ; but we may 
lawfully ask for food and raiment, " for our heavenly Father 
knoweth that we have need of these things," Matt. 6 : 32 ; 
and having these, " we ought to be content." 

We are not to ask for weekly bread, or monthly bread, or 
yearly bread, but for daily bread ; for we must not boast of 
to-morrow, or depend on future years, but live in daily de- 
pendence on God, without anxious cares for a future time. 
"Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof;" and sufficient 
for the day is the good thereof; so that we are to exercise 
ourselves in daily prayer, and receive every meal and every 
morsel as the gift of a good God, which will make it sweet. 

The Christian will also ask for bread for his soul, as well 
as his body. Christ is to the believer's soul, what food is to 
the body. He is " the Bread of Life ;" and if we are born 



ON THE LORD'S PRAYER. 7 

of God, we shall daily desire to feed upon him in our hearts, 
by faith, with thanksgiving. 

AND FORGIVE US OUR DEBTS, AS WE FOR- 
GIVE OUR DEBTORS. This petition is joined to the 
last by the word and; which may teach us, that without the 
forgiveness of sins, the comforts of this life can do no real 
good ; " for what is a man profited, if he gain the whole 
world, and lose his own soul?" Every man is a sinner. 
There is not a creature, who wants daily bread, that does 
not also want daily pardon ; and yet how few are sensible 
of it ? Sin is here compared to a debt. There is a debt of 
duty we owe to God ; and in case of failure, we contract a 
new debt to the justice of God. The debts we owe to man 
expose us to misery here ; but the debts we owe to God ex- 
pose us to eternal misery. And be it remembered, we are 
not able to pay a single farthing of this debt. If ever we 
are delivered from going to the prison of hell, it must be by 
a free pardon ; for so we here pray, " Forgive us our debts ;" 
or, as it is elsewhere, " Forgive us our trespasses." 

We can make no amends. It is not taking care not to 
contract a new debt, that will discharge an old one ; this will 
not do with our neighbors, nor will it do with God. Free 
forgiveness alone will prevent our punishment. But, though 
a sinner is justified freely, it is only "through the redemp- 
tion that is in Christ." With believing and penitent hearts 
we must go to God by Jesus Christ, and plead for his mercy 
for Christ's sake. 

At the same time, we are here taught the necessity of a 
forgiving temper. " As we forgive our debtors," that is, 
as we forgive those who have injured us in our property, 
person, or name. Not that, by our kindness to another, we 
deserve forgiveness at the hand of God ; but that, as we 
cannot expect pardon from God, while we refuse it to those 
who ask us for it, we may humbly hope, that, if we are 
enabled, by grace, to forgive others, God, whose thoughts 
and ways are infinitely above ours, will not reject our 
prayer for pardoning mercy through Jesus Christ. 



g OJJ THE LORD'S PRAYER. 

AND LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION, BUT 
DELIVER US FROM EVIL. Those whose sins are for- 
given will be afraid of sinning again ; and knowing the power 
of temptation, we pray to be kept from it. Temptation is 
any thing which makes trial of us, and proves what is in our 
hearts. Afflictions are God's trial of us, for our good ; but 
all Satan's temptations are to lead us into evil. The person 
who uses this prayer aright is afraid of sin ; and he offers 
up this petition to God, that he would keep him out of the 
way of such trials as would be too hard for him, or grant 
sufficient strength to resist and overcome the devil, the evil 
one, " who goeth about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he 
may devour." But this must be accompanied with watching, 
and avoiding all wilful occasion of sin, or else these words 
do but mock God. 

The conclusion of the prayer is, FOR THINE IS 
THE KINGDOM, AND THE POWER, AND THE 
GLORY, FOR EVER. AMEN. This shows why we 
should pray to God, and why we may hope to be heard. 
The kingdom is his. God is king of all the world, and has 
a right to dispose of all things in it. The power is his, as 
well as the authority. He therefore can answer our pray- 
ers ; and we hope he will. His then will be the glory. 
Whatever God does is for his own glory ; and if we are dis- 
posed to give him all the glory of what he does for us, we 
may hope that our petitions will be granted. This kingdom, 
this power, this glory, are for ever : he will never want the 
power to help ; and if we are saved, we shall never cease to 
give him praise. 

The force of the prayer lies in the first and last words of 
it — Our Father, and Amen. In the first, we apply to God in 
Christ, as reconciled to us ; in the last, we set our seal to the 
whole, and say, Amen ; so let it be ; so, we humbly hope, it 
shall be, for Christ's sake. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



THE GREAT DAY. 



" The hour is coming, in the which all that are in the 
graves shall hear His voice, and shall come forth : they that 
have done good, unto the resurrection of life ; and they that 
have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation." John 
5 : 28, 29. " I saw a great white throne, and him that sat 
on it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away ; 
and there was found no place for them. And I saw the 
dead, small and great, stand before God ; and the books 
were opened : and another book was opened, which is the 
book of life ; and the dead were judged out of those things 
which were written in the books, according to their works." 
Rev. 20: 11, 12. 

Sinner, are you flattering yourself with a hope of escap- 
ing that day of trial ? that out of the countless millions who 
shall appear, you may be able to avoid the eye of the Judge ? 
Vain thought ! His eye will be as fully upon you as if you 
were the only one to be tried. How altered the tone of bold 
blasphemers and presumptuous sinners in that day ! In this 
life they could laugh at every thing sacred, and sport with 
the Saviour's name. Hear them now, " calling on the rocks 
and the mountains to fall on them, and hide them from the 
face of him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of 
the Lamb ; for the great day of his wrath is come, and who 
shall be able to stand ?" 

If you cannot escape the eye of the Judge, will you be 
able to justify yourself before him 1 Do you allege, that 
you do no narm, that you have a good heart ? Hear what 
the Judge says of your heart. " The heart is deceitful 
above all things, and desperately wicked : who can know 
it?" Jer. 17 : 9. The law by which you must be judged 
VOL. iv. 17* 



2 THE GREAT DAY. 

is so strict and holy, that the secret wish or look is a trans, 
gression. " Whosoever hateth his brother, is a murderer." 
1 John, 3 : 15. " Cursed is every one that continueth not 
in all things which are written in the book of the law to do 
them." Gal. 3 : 10. When the book shall be opened by 
the Judge, which contains a countless number of evil thoughts, 
words, and actions, recorded against you, and conscience, 
awakened by ten thousand recollections, shall do her office, 
you will stand speechless and self-condemned. 

If you can neither escape nor justify yourself, will you 
be able to contend with the Judge ? Vain thought ! " Can 
thy heart endure, or can thy hands be strong, in the day that 
I shall deal with thee ?" Ezek. 22 : 14. He who bore so 
long with your provocations, will then ascend the throne of 
judgment, to avenge the insulted Majesty of heaven, and to 
vindicate his holy law. Hear the blessed Judge addressing 
the sinner. " How often would I have gathered you, as a 
hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would 
not. How often did I, as if in humble suit, knock at the 
door of your heart, beseeching you to be reconciled ; but ye 
refused. How often, when my hand has been lifted up to 
execute my wrath upon you, did my patience and long-suf- 
fering prevail, and another trial was afforded you. Yea, 
how often did I follow you, saying, Turn ye, turn ye, why 
will ye die ? By my holy incarnation, my life of sorrows, 
my bloody sweat, my pierced hands and feet, and wounded 
side, did I plead with you ; but all in vain. Take now these 
mine enemies, who would not that I should reign over them, 
bind them hand and foot, and cast them into outer darkness, 
where there is wailing and gnashing of teeth." 

And should you be neither able to escape nor justify 
yourself, nor contend successfully with the Judge, will you 
be able to endure the dreadful sentence 1 Are you prepared 
for an immortality of woe 1 It is a fearful thing to fall into 
the hands of the living God. Who can conceive the full 
meaning of these words, The wrath of the Lamb ? Ye fallen 



THE GREAT DAY. 3 

spirits, thrones, and dominions, who kept not your first estate, 
and who have been long confined in chains of darkness, say 
what it is ! Ye who have sunk deepest in the fiery lake, 
tell us what the wrath of the Lamb is ! And ye sinners of 
mankind, condemned before the flood, declare, if ye can, 
what is meant by quenchless fire- and the ever-gnawing 
worm. 

Sinner, let me entreat you to stop, before your feet stum- 
ble on the dark mountains. Oh sinner, stop ! Why in such 
haste? Do not madly press forward in thy career of sin. 
Say not, There is no hope. There is hope — hope for the 
most abandoned sinner on the face of the earth. Hear the 
heart-affecting address of that God, whose laws you have 
broken, whose threatenings you have defied, whose patience 
you have insulted, whose offers of mercy you have rejected. 
Hear him addressing you as by name : " As I live, saith the 
Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked ; 
but that the wicked turn from his way and live: turn ye, 
turn ye, from your evil ways ; for why will ye die V Ezek. 
33 : 11. And lest you should count your guilt too great to 
be pardoned, listen to the gracious invitation, " Come now, 
and let us reason together, saith the Lord : though your sins 
be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow ; though they 
be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." Isa. 1 : 18. 
" For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begot- 
ten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, 
but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the 
world to condemn the world, but that the world through 
him might be saved." John 3 : 16, 17. " God was in 
Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their 
trespasses unto them ; and hath committed unto us the word 
of reconciliation. Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, 
as though God did beseech you by us ; we pray you in 
Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God. For he hath made 
him to be sin for us, who knew no sin ; that we might be 
made the righteousness of God in him." 2 Cor. 5 : 19-21. 



4 THE GREAT DAY. 

How sweet is the voice of mercy to the miserable and 
the guilty ! What a crowd of promises are pressing, as it 
were, to stop the sinner in his evil course ! Unfeeling, in- 
deed, must be the heart which is unmoved, on hearing such 
gracious tidings as these. " Behold the Lamb of God, which 
taketh away the sin of the world !" Hear him, with his 
dying breath, pleading for the pardon of his murderers. See 
him with extended arms, ready to receive you. Come, sin- 
ner,, to the Gospel feast ; come, for all things are now ready. 
" Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and 
he that hath no money ; come, buy wine and milk without 
money and without price." Isa. 55 : 1. Blessings of infi- 
nite value, which cost a sum so great that an angel cannot 
estimate the value, are offered to all who will receive them, 
without price. You are guilty : Jesus shed his blood as an 
atonement for sin. You are unholy and polluted : there is 
a fountain opened for all uncleanness. Hear the gracious 
promise of the Holy Spirit: "A new heart will I give you, 
and a new spirit will I put within you ; and I will take away 
the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you a heart 
of flesh." Ezek. 36: 26. "Ask, and it shall be given 
you ; seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened 
unto you. For everyone that asketh, receiveth ; and he 
that seeketh, findeth ; and to him that knocketh, it shall be 
opened. If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto 
your children, how much more shall your heavenly Father 
give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him ?" Luke 11 : 9, 
10, 13. Without delay, hasten to the Saviour; the door of 
mercy is now open. " The Spirit and the Bride say, Come ; 
and let him that heareth say, Come ; and let him that is 
athirst come ; and whosoever will, let him take the water of 
life freely." Rev. 22: 17. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



J\o. 123. 

THE SUBSTANCE 

OF 

LESLIE'S METHOD 

WITH 

THE DEISTS; 

AND 

TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY DEMONSTRATED. 



A SHORT AND EASY METHOD WITH THE DEISTS. 

Dear Sir — You are desirous, you inform me, to receive 
from me some one topic of reason, which shall demonstrate 
the truth of the Christian Religion, and at the same time dis- 
tinguish it from the impostures of Mahomet, and the heathen 
deities : that our Deists may be brought to this test, and be 
obliged either to renounce their reason and the common rea- 
son 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 Chris- 
tianity not to be an imposture. And you cannot but imag- 
ine, 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, espe- 
cially 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 



2 LESLIE'S METHOD 

you desire, and I will set it down as shortly and as plainly 
as I can. 

I suppose, then, 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 mira- 
cles, if true, establish the truth of what he delivered. The 
same may be said with regard to Moses. If he led the chil- 
dren of Israel through the Red Sea, and did such other 
wonderful things as are recorded of him in the book of Exo- 
dus, 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 him- 
self 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 Mahomet 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 wit- 
nesses ; 

3. That there be public monuments and actions kept up 
in memory of it; and, 

4. That such monuments and actions shall be estab- 
lished, 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 contra- 



WITH THE DEISTS. 3 

diet it. For example : Suppose I should pretend that, yes- 
terday, 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 convince the peo- 
ple 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 South- 
wark on dry land. I take it, then, for granted, and I appre- 
hend 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 be 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 the credulity of after 
ages might be induced to believe that things had been per- 
formed 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 appear- 
ing, 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 few 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 liv- 
ing, 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 contradict me, as to the cir- 



4 LESLIE'S METHOD 

cumstance of cutting off a joint of the finger ; and that, being 
an essential part of my original 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 Ma- 
homet 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, etc., if it had not been true ; be- 
cause the senses of every man who was then alive would 
have contradicted him. So that here are the two first 
marks. 

For the same reason, it would have been equally impos- 
sible for him to have made them receive his five books as 
true, which related all these things as done before their eyes, 
if they had not been so done. Observe how positively 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 great- 
ness, 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. 11 : 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. 31 : 24-26 ; and state that a copy of them 



WITH THE DEISTS. 5 

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. 17 : 19. 
Here these books expressly represent 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, therefore, 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 anywhere 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 1 As impossible was it for these 
books, if written in any age after Moses, to have been re- 
ceived for what they declare themselves to be, that is, the 
municipal law of the Jews ; and for any man to have per- 
suaded that people that they had owned them as their code 
of statutes from the time of Moses, that is, before they had 
ever heard of them ! Nay, more, they must instantly 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 not only contain 
VOL. iv. IS 



Q LESLIE'S METHOD 

the laws themselves, but give an historical account of their 
institution and regular fulfilment : of the Passover, for in- 
stance, in memory of their supernatural protection, upon the 
slaying of the first-born of Egypt ; the dedication 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 Heze- 
kiah. 2 Kings, 18 : 4, etc. And, besides these memorials 
of particular occurrences, there were other solemn observ- 
ances, in general memory of their deliverance out of Egypt, 
etc., as their annual expiations, 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 and 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 Urim and Thum- 
mim in his breastplate ; that at his word all the people 
were to go out, and to come in ; that those Leviles were 
also their judges, even in all civil causes, etc. 

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 invariable 
experience to the contrary, that they had received these books 
long before, from their fathers ; had been taught them when 
they were children, and had taught them to their own chil- 
dren ; that they had been circumcised themselves, had cir- 
cumcised their families, and uniformly 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 tabernacle, with a regular priesthood 
to administer in it, confined to one particular tribe, and a 



WITH THE DEISTS. 7 

superintendent high-piicst, whose death alone could deliver 
those that had fled to the cities of refuge ; that these priests 
were their ordinary judges, even in civil matters, etc. But 
this would surely have been impossible, if none of these 
things had been practised ; and it would consequently have 
been impossible to circulate, as true, a set of books which 
affirmed that they had practised them, and upon that prac- 
tice 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 de- 
ceived the nation, by making them believe that they were 
practised in memory of such and such occurrences as were 
then invented i" 

In this hypothesis, however groundless, the same impos- 
sibilities press upon our notice as before. For it implies 
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 ex- 
press their original : as the passover, instituted in memory 
of God's passing over the children of the Israelites, when 
he slew the first-born of Egypt, etc. 

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 ? For example : Suppose I should 
now forge some romantic story of strange things done a 
long while ago ; and, in confirmation of this, should endeav- 
or 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 Caesar, or a Ma- 
homet — and had all been baptized in his name, and sworn 
by it upon the very book which I had then fabricated, and 



g LESLIE'S METHOD 

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 Christians, or not ? The same reason holds 
with regard to the books of Moses, and must hold with re- 
gard to every book, which contains matters of fact accom- 
panied by the above-mentioned four marks. For these 
marks, together, secure mankind from imposition, with re- 
gard 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 Stonehenge of Salisbury plain. Almost every body has 
seen, or heard of it ; and yet nobody 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 Caesar or a 
Mahomet, 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 of Parliament 
to be taught our children, and that we accordingly 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 ? Or, rather, should not I, or any other 
person who might insist upon its reception, 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 4:6. It is there said, that the reason why 
they were set up was, that when the children of the Jews, 



WITH THE DEISTS. g 

In after-ages, should ask their meaning, it should be told 
them. Chap. 4 : 20-22. And the thing, in memory of 
which they were 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. 3 : 
5, 15, still more unassailable by the petty cavils of infidel 
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 an after- 
age, invented this book of Joshua, affirmed that it was 
written at the time of that imaginary event by Joshua him- 
self, 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 reason 
for it, nor of this book of Joshua. Where has it lain con- 
cealed all this while ? And where and how came you, 
after so long a period, to find it ? Besides, it informs us, 
that this passage over Jordan was solemnly directed to be 
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 our- 
selves, when we were children, nor did we ever teach it to 
our children. And it is in the highest degree improbable 
that such an emphatic ordinance should have been forgot- 
ten during the continuance of so remarkable a pile of stones, 
set up expressly for the purpose of preserving its remem- 
brance." 

If, then, for these reasons, no such fabrication could be 

put upon us, as to the stones in Salisbury plain ; how much 

less could it succeed, as to the stonage at Gilgal? If, where 

we are ignorant of the true origin of a mere naked monu- 

VOL. iv. 18* 



J0 LESLIE'S METHOD 

ment, 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 regu- 
larly 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 im- 
possible must it be that any deceit should be practised 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 outward senses could judge of; and were 
performed imhlicly, in the presence of those to whom the 
history of them, contained in the Gospel was addressed. 
And it is related, that " about three thousand" at one time, 
Acts 2 : 41, and about "five thousand" at another, chap. 
4 : 4, were converted in consequence of what they them- 
selves saw and heard, in matters where it was impossible 
that they should have been deceived. Here, 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 him- 
self also ordained apostles, etc., to preach and administer 
his ordinances, and to govern his church " even unto the 
end of the world." Now, the Christian ministry is as noto- 
rious a matter of fact among us, as the setting apart of the 



WITH THE DEISTS. j j 

tribe of Levi was among the Jews ; and as the era and ob- 
ject of their appointment are part of the gospel narrative, 
if that narrative had been a fiction of some subsequent ago, 
at the time of its fabrication no such order of men could 
have been found, which would have effectually given the 
lie to the whole 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 Mahomet and of the 
heathen deities, do all want some of these four marks, by 
which the certainty of facts is established. Mahomet him- 
self, as he tells us in his Koran, 6, etc., 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 Je- 
rusalem, and thence to heaven, etc., were not performed 
before any witnesses, nor was the tour indeed of a nature 
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, etc., besides the 
absurdity of such degrading and profligate adventures. 
And accordingly, we find that the more enlightened pagans 
themselves considered them as fables involving a mystical 



12 



LESLIE'S METHOD 



meaning, of which several of their writers have endeav- 
ored 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 com- 
mencing at the time when the things which they commem- 
orate were said to have been done. Hence, they cannot 
secure mankind, in subsequent ages, from imposture, as 
they furnish no internal means of detection at the period 
of the forgery. The Bacchanalia, for example, and other 
heathen festivals, were established long after the events to 
which they refer; and the priests of Juno, Mars, etc., were 
not ordained by those imaginary deities, but appointed by 
others in some- after-age, and are therefore no evidence to 
the truth of their preternatural achievements. 

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 Testaments 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 cir- 
cumcision, and the ordinances of baptism and the Lord's 
supper, etc., are there represented as descending uninter- 
ruptedly from the times of their respective institution. 
And it would have been as impossible to persuade men 
in after-ages that they had been circumcised or baptized, 
and celebrated passovers, Sabbaths, and other ordinances, 
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, etc.. But, 
without such a persuasion, it was impossible that either 
the Law or the Gospel could have been received. And the 
truth of the matters of fact of each being no otherwise as- 



WITH THE DEISTS. j 3 

serted than as such public ceremonies had been previously- 
practised, their certainty is established upon the full con- 
viction 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 
Coesar, 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 Caesar, 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 Caesar 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 Caesar — whether 
he conquered at Pharsalia, and was killed in the senate- 
house, or not ? But our eternal welfare is concerned in the 
truth of what is recorded in the Scriptures ; whence they 
would naturally be more narrowly scrutinized, when pro- 
posed for acceptance. 

How unreasonable, then, is it to reject matters of fact 
so important, so sifted, and so attested ; and yet to think it 
absurd, even to madness, to deny other matters of fact, 
which have not the thousandth part of their evidence — 
have had comparatively little investigation — and are of no 
consequence at all ! 



14 LESLIE'S METHOD 

THE TRUTH OP 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 discussed 
in the former part of this Tract, in such a manner as to 
supersede the necessity of dwelling upon it in this, renders 
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 Westminster-Hall, which 



WITH THE DEISTS. j5 

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 Moses, 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 follow- 
ers, who were already under the government of laws in 
some degree adapted to their respective climates and char- 
acters, 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 ; inas- 
much 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 con- 
spired in the forgery. But, without such a conspiracy, such 
a forgery could never have succeeded, as the gospel univer- 
sally 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 1 : 70. 

The first promise upon the subject was made to Adam, 
immediately after the fall. Gen. 3 : 15. Compare Col. 2: 
15, and Heb. 2 : 14. 

He was again repeatedly promised to Abraham, Gen. 
12: 3; 18: 18, and 22: 18; Gal. 3 : 16 ; to Isaac, Gen. 
26 : 4 ; and to Jacob, Gen. 28 : 14. 

Jacob expressly prophesied of him, under the appellation 
of " Shiloh," or Him that was to be sent. Gen. 49 : 10. 
Balaam also, with the voice of inspiration, pronounced him 
"the Star of Jacob, and the Sceptre of Israel." Numb. 24: 
17. Moses spake of him, as one " greater than himself." 



IQ LESLIE'S METHOD 

Deut. 18: 15, 18, 19; Acts 3: 22. And Daniel hailed 
his arrival, under the name of " Messiah the Prince." Chap. 
9 : 25. 

It was foretold, that he should be born of a virgin, Isa. 
7:14, in the city of Bethlehem, Micah 5 : 2, of the seed 
of Jesse, Isa. 11 : 1, 10 ; that he should lead a life of poverty 
and suffering, Psalm 22, inflicted upon him, " not for him- 
self," Dan. 9 : 26, but for the sins of others, Isa. 53, and, 
after a short confinement in the grave, should rise again, 
Psalm 16 : 10 ; Acts 2 : 27, 31, and 13 : 35-37 ; that he 
" should sit upon the throne of David for ever," and be called 
"the mighty God," Isa. 9 : 6, 7, "the Lord our righteous- 
ness," Jer. 33 : 16, "Immanuel, that is, God with us," Isa. 7: 
14 ; Matt. 1 : 23, and by David himself, whose son he was 
according to the flesh, "Lord," Psalm 110: 1, applied to 
Christ by himself, Matt. 22 : 44, and by Peter, Acts 2 : 34. 

The time of his incarnation was to be, before " the 
sceptre should depart from Judah," Gen. 49: 10, during 
the continuance of the second Temple, Hag. 2 : 7, 9, and 
within seventy weeks, or four hundred and ninety days ; that 
is, according to the constant interpretation of prophecy, four 
hundred and ninety years from its erection. Dan. 9 : 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 appear- 
ed about that period. 

That he was likewise the expectation of the Gentiles — 
in conformity to the prophecies of Gen. 49: 10, and Hag. 
2: 7, where the terms "people," and "nations," denote the 
heathen world — is evinced by the coming of the wise men 
from the East, etc., 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 conse- 
quent massacre of the infants in and about Bethlehem, had 



WITH THE DEISTS. 



17 



not been fresh in every one's memory : by them, for in- 
stance, who afterwards suborned false witnesses 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, everywhere 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 prom- 
ised 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 Chal- 
deans, Romans, and Jews, is sufficiently proved by the 
desperate methods suggested, or carried into effect, for its 
discomfiture. Nor, in fact, is it practicable for whole na- 
tions of contemporary, and still less, if possible, for those 
of successive, generations, to concert a story perfectly har- 
monious in all its minute accompaniments 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 foretell 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. 

VOL. iv. 19 



jq LESLIE'S METHOD 

Observe, then, how literally many of these predictions 
were fulfilled. For example : Read Psalm 69 : 21, " They 
gave me gall to eat, and vinegar to drink;" and compare 
Matt. 27 : 34, " They gave him vinegar to drink, mingled 
with gall." Again, it is said, Psalm 22 : 16-18, " They 
pierced my hands and my feet. They part my garments 
among them, and cast lots upon my vesture ;"* as if it had 
been written after John, 19: 23, 24. It is predicted, like- 
wise, Zech. 12 : 10, "They shall look upon me whom they 

* The soldiers did not tear his coat, because it was without 
seam, woven from the top throughout ; and therefore they cast lots 
for it. But this was entirely accidental. With the passage in 
the Psalms, as Romans, they were not likely to be acquainted. 
The same remark applies to the next instance, from Zechariah. 

And here it may be suggested — in reply to those who 
insidiously magnify " the power of chance, the ingenuity of 
accommodation, and the industry of research," as chiefly sup- 
porting 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 understanding what Christ meant by his " lifting 
up," John 8 : 28 ; 12 : 32, 33, and not knowing that he had foretold 
his crucifixion to his apostles, Matt. 20 : 19, instead of finally 
stoning him — the death appointed by their law, Lev. 24 : 16, for 
blasphemy, Matt. 26 : 65, more than once menaced against the 
Saviour, John 8 : 59 ; 10 : 33, and actually inflicted upon Stephen, 
Acts 7: 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 com- 
menced that evening, a few hours after the crucifixion. From 
his early giving up the ghost, however, it was not necessary that 
" a bpne of him should be broken," Exod. 12: 46 ; Numb. 9 : 12 ; 
Psalm 34 : 20, like those of the two thieves, his fellow-sufferers, 
John 19: 32, 36. 



WITH THE DEISTS. jg 

have pierced;" and we are told, John 19: 34, that " one 
of the soldiers with a spear pierced his side." 

Compare also Psalm 22 : 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 deliver 
him ; let him deliver him, if he will have him," with Matt. 
27 : 39-41, 43, " And they that passed by reviled him, wag- 
ging 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. 11 : 13, are historically stated by 
Matthew, in perfect correspondence with the prophet, chap. 
27 : 6, 7. And his riding into Jerusalem upon an ass, 
predicted Zech. 9 : 9, and referred by one of the most 
learned of the Jewish Rabbies to the Messiah, is recorded by 
the same inspired historian, chap. 21 : 5. Lastly, it was 
foretold, that " he should make his grave with the wicked, 
and with the rich in his death," Isa. 53 : 9 ; or, as Dr. 
Lowth translates the passage, " his grave was appointed 
with the wicked, but with the rich man was his tomb ;" 
which prediction was precisely verified by the very im- 
probable incidents of his being crucified between two thieves, 
Matt. 27 : 38, and afterwards laid in the tomb of the rich man 
ofArimathea. lb. 57 — 50. 

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 9 : 44, 
f before that generation passed," Matt. 24 : 34, were ful- 
filled in a most surprisingly literal manner, the very 



20 LESLIE'S METHOD 

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. 24 : 
24, 26. That great numbers actually assumed that holy 
character, before the final fall of the city, and led the people 
into the wilderness to their destruction, we learn from 
Josephus, Antiq. Jud. 18: 12; 20: 6; and B. J. 8 : 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. 7 : 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 disadvan- 
tage — himself low and despised, his immediate associates 
only twelve, and those illiterate and unpolished, and his 
adversaries the allied powers, prejudices, habits, interests, 
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 predictions 
of Delphi or Dodojia, the heathens never affected to prefigure 
any future event by types, or resemblances of the fact, con- 
sisting of analogies either in individuals, or in sensible insti- 
kitions directed to be continued, till the antitype itself should 
make its appearance. 

These types, in the instance of Christ, were of a twofold 
nature, circumstantial, and personal. 

Of the former kind, not to notice the general rite of sac- 
rifice, may be produced, as examples: 1. The Passover, 
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. 5 : 7, 8, calls, " the unleavened bread of 



WITH THE DEISTS. 21 

sincerity and truth." 2. The annual expiation, in two re- 
spects : first, as the high-priest entered into the holy of holies, 
representing heaven, Exod. 25 : 40 ; Heb. 9 : 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, suffered without the gate, Heb. 
13 : 12 ; and " after he had offered one sacrifice for sin, for 
ever sat down at the right hand of God," 10 : 12 ; and sec- 
ondly, as " all the iniquity of the children of Israel was put 
upon the head" of the scape-goat. Lev. 16 : 21. 3. The 
brazen serpent, by looking 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 on the cross. John 3:14. 4. The manna, 
which represented " the bread of life, that came down from 
heaven." John 6 : 31-35. 5. The rock, whence the waters 
flowed, to supply drink in the wilderness ; " and that rock 
was Christ." 1 Cor. 10: 4. 6. The Sabbath, " a shadow 
of Christ," Coloss. 2 : 16, 17 ; and, as a figure of his eternal 
rest, denominated " a sign of the perpetual covenant." Ex- 
odus 31 : 16, 17 ; Ezek. 20 : 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. 5 : 12-21, and 1 Cor. 15 : 45- 
49. 2. Noah, who was " saved by water ; the like figure 
whereunto, even baptism, doth now save us, by the resur- 
rection of Jesus Christ." 1 Peter, 3 : 20, 21. 3. Melchis- 
edec, king of Salem, who was made " like unto the Son of 
God, a priest continually." Heb. 7:3. 4. Abraham, " the 
heir of the world," Rom. 4: 13, "in whom all the nations 
of the earth are blest." Gen. 18 : 18. 5. Isaac, in his 
vol. iv. 19* 



22 LESLIE'S METHOD 

birth and intended sacrifice, whence also his father received 
him in a figure, Heb. 11 : 19, that is, of the resurrection 
of Christ. He, too, was the promised seed, Gen. 21 : 12, 
and Gal. 3 : 16, in whom all the nations of the earth were 
to be blessed. Gen. 22 : 18. 6. Jacob, in his vision of the 
ladder, Gen. 28:12, and John 1:51, and his wrestling 
with the angel ; whence he, and after him the church, ob- 
tained the name of Israel. Gen. 32 : 28, and Matt. 11 : 21. 
The Gentile world also, like Jacob, gained the blessing and 
heirship from their elder brethren the Jews. 7. Moses, 
Deut. 18 : 18, and John 1 : 45, in redeeming the children 
of Israel out of Egypt. 8. Joshua, called also Jesus, Heb. 
4 : 8, in acquiring for them the possession of the Holy Land, 
and as lieutenant to the " Captain of the host of the Lord." 
Josh. 5 : 14. 9. David, Psalm 16 : 10, and Acts 2 : 25-35, 
upon whose throne Christ is said to sit, Isa. 9 : 7, and by 
whose name he is frequently designated, Hos. 3 : 5, etc., in 
his pastoral, regal, and prophetical capacity. 10. Jonah, 
in his dark imprisonment of three days, applied by Christ to 
himself. Matt. 12 : 40. 

The eighth mark is, that the facts of Christianity are 
such as to make it impossible for either the relaters or the 
hearers to believe them, if false, without supposing a uni- 
versal 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, indeed, 
both Christ and his apostles often appeal. And they were 
of such a nature as wholly to exclude every chance of impo- 
sition. 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 



WITH THE DEISTS. 23 

Roman persecutors of Christianity, to whom its first teachers 
frequently referred as witnesses of Ariose 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 pretended 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 stimulated hostile inquiry ; and 
that their original relaters, after lives of unintermitted hard- 
ship, 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 simi- 
lar, to those of Christ. This, however, it must at the same 
time be observed, would be far from proving the matters 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 Csesar, or Mahomet, 

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 ; 

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 contain- 
ing their whole code of civil and ecclesiastical laics ; 

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 



24 LESLIE'S METHOD WITH THE DEISTS. 

of a circumstantial and personal nature, from the earliest 
ages ; and, 

8. Of such a character as made it impossible for either 
the relators or hearers to believe it, if false, without suppos- 
ing 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 in his sight ; proclaims pardon, as his free gift through 
the meritorious righteousness, sacrifice, and intercession 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 purposes, to all who sin- 
cerely 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 destruction 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. O 
study, O embrace it for yourself: and may the God of love 
and peace be with you. Amen. 



No. 124. 

A TRAVELLER'S FAREWELL. 

I SHALL SEE THY FACE NO MORE. 



There is always something painful attending the sepa- 
ration of friends. When, for a length of time, we have 
enjoyed each other's company, and feel mutual respect and 
esteem, if we are compelled to part without the expectation 
of meeting again, we can scarcely bid the last farewell with- 
out regret. Thus, when the apostle Paul bade farewell to 
the elders of the church at Ephesus, they sorrowed greatly ; 
but " most of all for the words which he spake, that they 
should see his face no more." 

And shall we never meet again ? Very likely not. 
Never, till our spirits have left the body ! Never, till day 
and night have come to an end ! Never, till spring has 
ceased to follow winter, and summer ceased to follow spring ! 
Never, till the sun has ceased to shine, and the stars to 
twinkle ! Never, till months, and years, and ages, and time 
itself, are no more ! Never, till the voice of the archangel 
and the trump of God have summoned the dead to rise, and 
proclaimed eternal judgment! And where shall our next 
place of meeting be ? 

SHALL WE MEET IN HELL? 

Shall you and I lift up our eyes in torments, and find each 
other in that abode of misery, from which there is no deliv- 
erance 1 Oh ! what a meeting will that be ! What shock- 
ing salutations shall we utter ! With what downcast looks 
shall we gaze on each other, and wish that we had never 
met at all ! 

SHALL WE MEET IN HEAVEN ? 

Transporting thought, if so it may be. Your countenance 
will then shine like that of an angel, and so will mine. 



2 A TRAVELLER'S FAREWELL. 

And the smile with which we shall welcome one another to 
that happy land, will be cheerful as the brightness of the 
morning. But are we prepared for heaven ? None shall 
enter its holy gates but such as are " beforehand prepared 
unto glory." O my soul, art thou prepared ? O my friend, 
are you ? " Except a man be horn again, he cannot see 
the kingdom of God." Except our sins are forgiven, we 
cannot see the face of God with joy. Without a wedding 
garment of perfect righteousness, we cannot sit down at the 
marriage supper of the Lamb. Are you sanctified and 
justified, in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the Spirit 
of the living God ? Joyful anticipation ! glorious prospect ! 
If we are new creatures in Christ Jesus ; if he is our hope ; 
if we bear his image ; we shall meet again — yes, we shall 
meet again — happy, triumphant, glorified ! At all events, 

WE SHALL BOTH STAND BEFORE THE JUDGMENT-SEAT 
OF CHRIST. 

" For we must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ," 
to give account of ourselves unto God, and receive for the 
things done in the body, according to that which we have 
done, "whether it be good or bad." For God will bring 
every work into judgment, and every idle word, and every 
secret thing, whether it be good or evil. He shall sit on his 
" great white throne," with all the quick and the dead, small 
and great, before him. He shall divide the righteous from 
the wicked, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats. 
He shall say to the righteous on his right hand, " Come, ye 
blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you 
from the foundation of the world." He shall say to the 
wicked on the left hand, " Depart from me, ye cursed, into 
everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." 
Perhaps we may not see each other, but we shall both be 
there. Shall we both be on the right hand, or both on the 
left ? Or shall we then stand in opposite divisions of the 
vast assembly ? Shall the one be saved, the other lost ? the 



A TRAVELLER'S FAREWELL. 3 

one ascend to heaven, the other sink to hell ? And shall we 
see each other's face no more, for ever, and ever, and ever? 

Gladly, you answer, would you escape this; but then, 
perhaps, you say, you know not the way. What was the 
reply of Jesus, when one of his apostles started a similar 
difficulty ? "I am the ivay, the truth, and the life ; no man 
cometh unto the Father, but b}^ me." Would you know, 
then, how you are to be preserved from hell ? Christ an- 
swers, "I am the way. 7 ' Would you know how }*ou may 
enter into heaven % He makes the same reply : " I am the 
way." I am the way by which you may depart from the 
shades of death. I am the way by which you may enter 
into life. " God so loved the world, that he gave his only- 
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him, should not 
perish, but have eternal life." " Should not perish." Here 
you have deliverance from perdition. " But have eternal 
life." Here you have the offer of salvation. To this end 
Christ both died and rose again. "Consider what I say, 
and the Lord give you understanding in all things." 

If you have already a " good hope through grace," con- 
sider if there is not some way in which you may promote, 
more extensively, the glory of God mid the good of souls. 
Did you ever hear of one that, on a death-bed, was sorry 
for having actively served the Lord ? The more the light 
of eternity opens upon us, the more clearly we perceive the 
value of those opportunities of usefulness which are put into 
our hands. The nearer and nearer we approach the great 
tribunal, the more distinctly we hear the words of that sen- 
tence : " Cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer dark- 
ness ; there shall -be weeping and gnashing of teeth." If, 
therefore, you are a lukewarm, inactive professor, mark well 
this imprecation : " Curse ye Meroz, said the angel of the 
Lord, curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof; because 
they came not to the help of the Lord, to the help of the 
Lord against the mighty." " When I die," said the zealous 
and indefatigable Grimshaw, " I shall have my greatest 
grief, and my greatest joy : my greatest grief, that I have 



4 A TRAVELLER'S FAREWELL. 

done so little for Christ ; my greatest joy, that Christ has 
done so much for me." 

If you have hitherto lived unconcerned, oh reflect — 
the time is short — your days are fast spending and wasting. 
You are killing time. We expect a resurrection of the 
dead ; but when will there be a resurrection of dead time 1 
Ah, time slain in folly will revive no more, except in its 
remembrance, as a swift witness against those who killed it ! 
You cannot call back an hour or a moment. The sun once 
stood still in Gibeon, but time did not stand still. The sun 
once returned ten degrees on the dial of Ahaz, but time 
proceeded on his journey with unremitted speed. Time is 
hasting onwards, and rapidly bearing you to the everlasting 
state. Your all, your eternal all, is at hazard. You can 
make one experiment, and, if that fail, you are undone for 
ever ! Therefore, by the dread authority of the great God — 
by the terrors of death and the great rising day — by the 
joys of heaven, and the torments of hell — by the value of 
your immortal soul, I entreat, I charge, I adjure you, to 
awake out of your security, and improve the gracious mo-. 
ments of life. This world is dying all around you. Can 
you rest easy in such a world, while unprepared for eter- 
nity ? Awake to righteousness, before you hear the alarm 
of the last trumpet. 

A mighty change awaits us, when the hour 
Arrives that lands us on th' eternal shore. 
From glory then to glory we shall rise, 
Or sink from deep to deeper miseries : 
Ascend perfection's everlasting scale, 
Or still descend from gulf to gulf in hell. 

" Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace 
in believing, that you may abound in hope, through the 
power of the Holy Ghost." Farewell. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



JVo, ISo. 



ON THE 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 



Ardent spirit is composed of alcohol and water, in 
nearly equal proportions. Alcohol is composed of hydro- 
gen, carbon, and oxygen, in the proportion of about fourteen, 
fifty-two, and thirty-four parts to the hundred. It is, in its 
nature, as manifested by its effects, a poison. When taken 
in any quantity it disturbs healthy action in the human sys- 
tem, and in large doses suddenly destroys life. It resembles 
opium in its nature, and arsenic in its effects. And though 
when mixed with water, as in ardent spirit, its evils are 
somewhat modified, they are by no means prevented. Ar- 
dent spirit is an enemy to the human constitution, and cannot 
be used as a drink without injury. Its ultimate tendency 
invariably is, to produce weakness, not strength ; sickness, 
not health ; death, not life. 

Consequently, to use it is an immorality. It is a viola- 
tion of the will of God, and a sin in magnitude equal to all 
the evils, temporal and eternal, which flow from it. Nor 
can the furnishing of ardent spirit for the use of others be 
accounted a less sin, inasmuch as this tends to produce evils 
greater than for an individual merely to drink it. And if a 
man knows, or has the opportunity of knowing, the nature 
and effects of the traffic in this article, and yet continues to 
VOL. iv. 20 



2 TRAFFIC L\ ARDENT SPIRIT. 

be engaged in it. he may justly be regarded as an immoral 
man ; and for the following reasons, viz. 

Ardent spirit, as a drink, is not needful. All men lived 
without it, and all the business of the world was conducted 
without it, for thousands of years. It is not three hundred 
years since it began to be generally used as a drink in Great 
Britain, nor one hundred years since it became common in 
America. Of course it is not needful. 

It is not useful. Those who do not use it are, other 
things being equal, in all respects better than those who do. 
Nor does the fact that persons have used it with more or less 
frequency, in a greater or smaller quantity, for a longer or 
shorter time, render it either needful, or useful, or harmless, 
or right for them to continue to use it. More than a million 
of persons in this country, and multitudes in other countries, 
who once did use it, and thought it needful, have, within 
five years, ceased to use it, and they have found that they 
are in all respects better without it. And this number is so 
great, of all ages, and conditions, and employments, as to 
render it certain, should the experiment be fairly made, that 
this would be the case with all. Of course, ardent spirit, 
as a drink, is not useful. 

It is hurtful. Its whole influence is injurious to the 
body and the mind for this world and the world to come. 

1. It forms an unnecessary, artificial, and very danger- 
ous appetite ; which, by gratification, like the desire for 
sinning, in the man who sins, tends continually to increase. 
No man can form this appetite without increasing his danger 
of dying a drunkard, and exerting an influence which tends 
to perpetuate drunkenness, and all its abominations, to the 
end of the world. Its very formation, therefore, is a viola- 
tion of the will of God. It is, in its nature, an immorality, 
and springs from an inordinate desire of a kind or degree 
of bodily enjoyment — animal gratification, which God has 
shown to be inconsistent with his glory, and the highest 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. g 

good of man. It shows that the person who forms it is not 
satisfied with the proper gratification of those appetites and 
passions which God has given him, or with that kind and 
degree of bodily enjoyment which infinite wisdom and good- 
ness have prescribed as the utmost that can be possessed 
consistently with a person's highest happiness and usefulness, 
the glory of his Maker, and the good of the universe. That 
person covets more animal enjoyment ; to obtain it he forms 
a new appetite, and in doing this he rebels against God. 

That desire for increased animal enjoyment from which 
rebellion springs is sin, and all the evils which follow in its 
train are only so many voices by which Jehovah declares 
"the way of transgressors is hard." The person who has 
formed an appetite for ardent spirit, and feels uneasy if he 
does not gratify it, has violated the divine arrangement, 
disregarded the divine will, and if he understands the na- 
ture of what he has done, and approves of it, and continues 
in it, it will ruin him. He will show that there is one thing 
in which he will not have God to reign over him. And 
should he keep the whole law, and yet continue knowingly, 
habitually, wilfully, and perseveringly to offend in that one 
point, he will perish. Then, and then only, according to 
the Bible, can any man be saved, when he has respect to all 
the known will of God, and is disposed to be governed by it. 
He must carry out into practice, with regard to the body 
and the soul, " Not my will, but thine be done." His grand 
object must be, to know the will of God, and when he knows 
it, to be governed by it, and with regard to all things. This, 
the man who is not contented with that portion of animal en- 
joyment which the proper gratification of the appetites and 
passions which God has given him will afford, but forms an 
appetite for ardent spirit, or continues to gratify it after it is 
formed, does not do. In this respect, if he understands the 
nature and effects of his actions, he prefers his own will to 
the known will of God, and is ripening to hear, from the lips 



4 TRAFFIC LN ARDENT SPIRIT. 

of his Judge, " Those mine enemies, that would not that I 
should reign over them, bring them hither and slay them 
before me." And the men who traffic in this article, or 
furnish it as a drink for others, are tempting them to sin, 
and thus uniting their influence with that of the devil for 
ever to ruin them. This is an aggravated immorality, and 
the men who continue to do ijt are immoral men. 

2. The use of ardent, spirit, to which the traffic is ac- 
cessory, causes a great and wicked waste of property. All 
that the users pay for this article is to them lost, and worse 
than lost. Should the whole which they use sink into the 
earth, or mingle with the ocean, it would be better for them, 
and better for the community, than for them to drink it. 
All which it takes to support the paupers, and prosecute the 
crimes which ardent spirit occasions, is, to those who pay 
the money, utterly lost. All the diminution of profitable 
labor which it occasions, through improvidence, idleness, 
dissipation, intemperance, sickness, insanity, and premature 
deaths, is to the community so much utterly lost. And these 
items, as has often been shown, amount in the United States 
to more than $100,000,000 a year. To this enormous and 
wicked waste of property, those who traffic in the article are 
knowingly accessory. 

A portion of what is thus lost by others, they obtain 
themselves ; but without rendering to others any valuable 
equivalent. This renders their business palpably unjust; 
as really so as if they should obtain that money by gambling ; 
and it is as really immoral. It is also unjust in another 
respect : it burdens the community with taxes both for the 
support of pauperism, and for the prosecution of crimes, and 
without rendering to that community any adequate com- 
pensation. These taxes, as shown by facts, are four times 
as great as they would be if there were no sellers of ardent 
spirit. All the profits, with the exception perhaps of a mere 
pittance which he pays for license, the seller puts into his 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 5 

own pocket, while the burdens are thrown upon the commu- 
nity. This is palpably unjust, and utterly immoral. Of 
1,969 paupers in different almshouses in the United States, 
1,790, according to the testimony of the overseers of the poor, 
were made such by spirituous liquor. And of 1,764 criminals 
in different prisons, more than 1,300 were either intemperate 
men, or were under the power of intoxicating liquor when 
the crimes for which they were imprisoned were committed. 
And of 44 murders, according to the testimony of those who 
prosecuted or conducted the defence of the murderers, or 
witnessed their trials, 43 were committed by intemperate 
men, or upon intemperate men, or those who at the time of 
the murder were under the power of strong drink. 

The Hon. Felix Grundy, United States senator from ' 
Tennessee, after thirty years' extensive practice as a lawyer, 
gives it as his opinion that four-fifths of all the crimes com- 
mitted in the United States can be traced to intemperance. 
A similar proportion is stated, from the highest authority, to 
result from the same cause in Great Britain. And when it 
is considered that more than 200 murders are committed, 
and more than 100,000 crimes are prosecuted in the United 
States in a year, and that such a vast proportion of them are 
occasioned by ardent spirit, can a doubt remain on the mind 
of any sober man, that the men who know these facts, and 
yet continue to traffic in this article, are among the chief 
causes of crime, and ought to be viewed and treated as im- 
moral men ? It is as really immoral for a man, by doing 
wrong, to excite others to commit crimes, as to commit them 
himself; and as really unjust wrongfully to take another's 
property with his consent, as without it. And though it 
might not be desirable to have such a law, yet no law in 
the statute-book is more righteous than one which should 
require that those who make paupers should support them, 
and those who excite others to commit crimes, should pay 
the cost of their prosecution, and should, with those who 

VOL. IV. 20* 



Q TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 

commit them, bear all the evils. And so long as this is not 
the case they will be guilty, according to the divine law, of 
defrauding, as well as tempting and corrupting their fellow- 
men. And though such crimes cannot be prosecuted, and 
justice be awarded in human courts, their perpetrators will 
be held to answer, and will meet with full and awful retri- 
bution at the divine tribunal. And when judgment is laid 
to the line, and righteousness to the plummet, they will 
appear as they really are, criminals, and will be viewed 
and treated as such for ever. 

There is another view in which the traffic in ardent 
spirit is manifestly highly immoral. It exposes the chil- 
dren of those who use it, in an eminent degree, to dissipation 
•and crime. Of 690 children prosecuted and imprisoned for 
crimes, more than 400 were from intemperate families. 
Thus the venders of this liquor exert an influence which 
tends strongly to ruin not only those who use it, but their 
children ; to render them far more liable to idleness, profli- 
gacy, and ruin, than the children of those who do not use it ; 
and through them to extend these evils to others, and to per- 
petuate them to future generations. This is a sin of which 
all who traffic in ardent spirit are guilty. Often the deepest 
pang which a dying parent feels for his children, is lest, 
through the instrumentality of such men, they should be 
ruined. And is it not horrible wickedness for them, by 
exposing for sale one of the chief causes of this ruin, to 
tempt them in the way to death? If he who takes money 
from others without an equivalent, or wickedly destroys 
property, is an immoral man, what is he who destroys char- 
acter, who corrupts children and youth, and exerts an influ- 
ence to extend and perpetuate immorality and crime through 
future generations ? This every vender of ardent spirit 
does ; and if he continues in this business with a knowledge 
of the subject, it marks him as an habitual and persevering 
violater of the will of God. 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 7 

3. Ardent spirit impairs, and often destroys reason. Of 
781 maniacs in different insane hospitals, 392, according to 
the testimony of their own friends, were rendered maniacs 
by strong drink. And the physicians who had the care of 
them gave it as their opinion, that this was the case with 
many of the others. Those who have had extensive expe- 
rience, and the best opportunities for observation with regard 
to this malady, have stated, that probably from one-half to 
three- fourths of the cases of insanity, in many places, are 
occasioned in the same way. Ardent spirit is a poison so 
diffusive and subtile that it is found, by actual experiment, to 
penetrate even the brain. 

Dr. Kirk, of Scotland, dissected a man a few hours after 
death who died in a fit of intoxication ; and from the lateral 
ventricles of the brain he took a fluid distinctly visible to the 
smell as whiskey ; and when he applied a candle to it in a 
spoon, it took fire and burnt blue ; " the lambent blue flame," 
he says, " characteristic of the poison, playing on the surface 
of the spoon for some seconds." 

It produces also, in the children of those who use it freely, 
a predisposition to intemperance, insanity, and various dis- 
eases of both body and mind, which, if the cause is contin- 
ued, becomes hereditary, and is transmitted from generation 
to generation ; occasioning a diminution of size, strength, 
and energy, a feebleness of vision, a feebleness and imbe- 
cility of purpose, an obtuseness of intellect, a depravation of 
moral taste, a premature old age, and a general deteriora- 
tion of the whole character. This is the case in every coun- 
try, and in every age. 

Instances are known where the first children of a family, 
who were born when their parents were temperate, have 
been healthy, intelligent, and active ; while the last children, 
who were born after the parents had become intemperate, 
were dwarfish and idiotic. A medical gentleman writes, 
" I have no doubt that a disposition to nervous diseases of a 



Q TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 

peculiar character is transmitted by drunken parents." An- 
other gentleman states that, in two families within his know- 
ledge, the different stages of intemperance in the parents 
seemed to be marked by a corresponding deterioration in the 
bodies and minds of the children. In one case, the eldest 
of the family is respectable, industrious, and accumulates 
property ; the next is inferior, disposed to be industrious, but 
spends all he can earn in strong drink. The third is dwarf- 
ish in body and mind, and, to use his own language, " a poor, 
miserable remnant of a man." 

In another family of daughters, the first is a smart, active 
girl, with an intelligent, well-balanced mind ; the others are 
afflicted with different degrees of mental weakness and im- 
becility, and the youngest is an idiot. Another medical 
gentleman states, that the first child of a family, who was 
born when the habits of the mother were good, was healthy 
and promising ; while the four last children, who were born 
after the mother had become addicted to the habit of using 
opium, appeared to be stupid ; and all, at about the same 
age, sickened and died of a disease apparently occasioned 
by the habits of the mother. 

Another gentleman mentions a case more common, and 
more appalling still. A respectable and influential man 
early in life adopted the habit of using a little ardent spirit 
daily, because, as he thought, it did him good. He and his 
six children, three sons and three daughters, are now in the 
drunkard's grave, and the only surviving child is rapidly 
following in the same way, to the same dismal end. 

The best authorities attribute one-half the madness, 
three-fourths of the pauperism, and four-fifths of the crimes 
and wretchedness in Great Britain to the use of strong drink. 

4. Ardent spirit increases the number, frequency, and 
violence of diseases, and tends to bring those who use it to 
a premature grave. In Portsmouth, New Hampshire, of 
about 7,500 people, twenty -one persons were killed by it in 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 9 

a year. In Salem, Massachusetts, of 181 deaths, twenty- 
were occasioned in the same way. Of ninety-one adults 
who died in New Haven, Connecticut, in one year, thirty- 
two, according to the testimony of the Medical Association, 
were occasioned, directly or indirectly, by strong drink, and 
a similar proportion had been occasioned by it in previous 
years. In New Brunswick, New Jersey, of sixty-seven 
adult deaths in one year, more than one-third were caused 
by intoxicating liquor. In Philadelphia, of 4,292 deaths, 
700 were, in the opinion of the College of Physicians and 
Surgeons, caused in the same way. The physicians of An- 
napolis, Maryland, state that, of thirty-two persons, male and 
female, who died in 1828, above eighteen years of age, ten, 
or nearly one-third, died of diseases occasioned by intem- 
perance ; that eighteen were males, and that of these, nine, 
or one-half, died of intemperance. They also say, " When 
we recollect that even the temperate use, as it is called, of 
ardent spirits, lays the foundation of a numerous train of 
incurable maladies, we feel justified in expressing the belief, 
that were the use of distilled liquors entirely discontinued, 
the number of deaths among the male adults would be dimin- 
ished at least one-half." 

Says an eminent physician, " Since our people generally 
have given up the use of spirit, they have not had more than 
half as much sickness as they had before ; and I have no 
doubt, should all the people of the United States cease to use 
it, that nearly half the sickness of the country would cease." 
Says another, after forty years' extensive practice, " Half 
the men every year who die of fevers might recover, had 
they not been in the habit of using ardent spirit. Many a 
man, down for weeks with a fever, had he not used ardent 
spirit, would not have been confined to his house a day. He 
might have felt a slight headache, but a little fasting would 
have removed the difficulty, and the man been well. And 
many a man who was never intoxicated, when visited with 



JO TRAFFIC IX ARDENT SPIRIT. 

a fever, might be raised up as well as not, were it not for 
that state of the system which daily moderate drinking occa- 
sions, who now, in spite of all that can be done, sinks down 
and dies." 

Nor are we to admit for a moment the popular reason- 
ing, as applicable here, " that the abuse of a thing is no 
argument against its use;" for, in the language of the late 
Secretary of the College of Physicians and Surgeons of 
Philadelphia, Samuel Emlen, M . D., " All use of ardent 
spirits," i. e. as a drink, " is an abuse. They are mischiev- 
ous under all circumstances." Their tendency, says Dr. 
Frank, when used even moderately, is to induce disease, 
premature old age, and death. And Dr. Trotter states, 
that no cause of disease has so wide a range, or so large a 
share, as the use of spirituous liquors. 

Dr. Harris states, that the moderate use of spirituous 
liquors has destroyed many who were never drunk ; and 
Dr. Kirk gives it as his opinion, that men who were never 
considered intemperate, by daily drinking have often short- 
ened life more than twenty years ; and that the respectable 
use of this poison kills more men than even drunkenness. 
Dr. Wilson gives it as his opinion, that the use of spirit in 
large cities causes more diseases than confined air, unwhole- 
some exhalations, and the combined influence of all other 
evils. 

Dr. Cheyne, of Dublin, Ireland, after thirty years' prac- 
tice and observation, gives it as his opinion, that should ten 
young men begin at twenty-one years of age to use but one 
glass of two ounces a day, and never increase the quantity, 
nine out of ten would shorten life more than ten years. 
But should moderate drinkers shorten life only five years, 
and drunkards only ten, and should there be but four mod- 
erate drinkers to one drunkard, it would in thirty years cut 
off* in the United States 32,400,000 years of human life. 
An aged physician in Maryland states, that when the fever 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. H 

breaks out there, the men who do not use ardent spirit are 
not half as likely as other men to have it ; and that if they 
do have it, they are ten times as likely to recover. In the 
island of Key West, on the coast of Florida, after a great 
mortality, it was found that every person who had died had 
been in the habit of using ardent spirit. The quantity used 
was afterwards diminished more than nine-tenths, and the 
inhabitants became remarkably healthy. 

A gentleman of great respectability from the south, 
states, that those who fall victims to southern climes, are 
almost invariably addicted to the free use of ardent spirit. 
Dr. Mosely, after a long residence in the West Indies, de- 
clares, " that persons who drink nothing but cold water, or 
make it their principal drink, are but little affected by 
tropical climates ; that they undergo the greatest fatigue 
without inconvenience, and are not so subject as others to 
dangerous diseases;" and Dr. Bell, "that rum, when used 
even moderately, always diminishes the strength, and ren- 
ders men more susceptible of disease ; and that, we might 
as well throw oil into a house, the roof of which is on fire, 
in order to prevent the flames from extending to the inside, 
as to pour ardent spirits into the stomach to prevent the 
effect of a hot sun upon the skin." 

Of seventy-seven persons found dead in different regions 
of country, sixty-seven, according to the coroners' inquests, 
were occasioned by strong drink. Nine-tenths of those who 
die suddenly after the drinking of cold water, have been 
habitually addicted to the free use of ardent spirit; and 
that draught of cold water, that effort, or fatigue, or expos- 
ure to the sun, or disease, which a man who uses no ardent 
spirit will bear without inconvenience or danger, will often 
kill those who use it. Their liability to sickness and to 
death is often increased tenfold. And to all these evils, 
those who continue to traffic in it, after all the light which 
God in his providence has thrown upon the subject, are 



12 TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 

knowingly accessory. Whether they deal in it by whole- 
sale or retail, by the cargo or the glass, they are, in their 
influence, drunkard-makers. So are also those who fur- 
nish the materials ; those who advertise the liquors, and 
thus promote their circulation ; those who lease their tene- 
ments to be employed as dram-shops, or stores for the sale 
of ardent spirit ; and those also who purchase their grocer- 
ies of spirit dealers rather than of others, for the purpose of 
saving to the amount which the sale of ardent spirit enables 
such men, without loss, to undersell their neighbors. These 
are all accessory to the making of drunkards, and as such 
will be held to answer at the divine tribunal. So are those 
men who employ their shipping in transporting the liquors, 
or are in any way knowingly aiding and abetting in per- 
petuating their use as a drink in the community. 

It is estimated that four-fifths of those who were swept 
away by the late direful visitation of cholera, were such 
as had been addicted to the use of intoxicating drink. Dr. 
Bronson, of Albany, who spent some time in Canada, and 
whose professional character and standing give great weight 
to his opinions, says, " Intemperance of any species, but 
particularly intemperance in the use of distilled liquors, has 
been a more productive cause of cholera than any other, 
and indeed than all others." And can men., for the sake 
of money, make it a business knowingly and perseveringly 
to furnish the most productive cause of cholera, and not be 
guilty of blood — not manifest a recklessness of character 
which will brand the mark of vice and infamy on their fore- 
heads ? "Drunkards and tipplers," he adds, "have been 
searched out with such unerring certainty as to show that 
the arrows of death have not been dealt out with indiscrimi- 
nation. An indescribable terror has spread through the 
ranks of this class of beings. They see the bolts of de- 
struction aimed at their heads, and every one calls himself 
a victim. There seems to be a natural affinity between 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 13 

cholera and ardent spirit." What, then, in days of expos- 
ure to this malady, is so great a nuisance as the places 
which furnish this poison ? Says Dr. Rhinelander, who, 
with Dr. De Kay, was deputed from New York to visit 
Canada, " We may be asked who are the victims of this 
disease ? I answer, the intemperate it invariably cuts off." 
In Montreal, after 1,200 had been attacked, a Montreal 
paper states, that " not a drunkard who has been attacked 
has recovered of the disease, and almost all the victims 
have been at least moderate drinkers." In Paris, the 
30,000 victims were, with few exceptions, those who freely 
used intoxicating liquors. Nine-tenths of those who died 
of the cholera in Poland were of the same class. 

In St. Petersburgh and Moscow, the average number of 
deaths in the bills of mortality, during the prevalence of the 
cholera, when the people ceased to drink brandy, was no 
greater than when they used it during the usual months of 
health — showing that brandy, and attendant dissipation, 
killed as many people in the same time as even the cholera 
itself, that pestilence which has spread sackcloth over the 
nations. And shall the men who know this, and yet con- 
tinue to furnish it for all who can be induced to buy, escape 
the execration of being the destroyers of their race ? Of 
more than 1,000 deaths in Montreal, it is stated that only 
two were members of Temperance societies. It was also 
stated, that as far as was known no members of Temper- 
ance societies in Ireland, Scotland, or England, had yet 
fallen victims to that dreadful disease. 

From Montreal, Dr. Bronson writes, " Cholera has stood 
up here, as it has done everywhere, the advocate of Tem- 
perance. It has pleaded most eloquently, and with tre- 
mendous effect. The disease has searched out the haunt 
of the drunkard, and has seldom left it without bearing 
away its victim. Even moderate drinkers have been but 
little better off. Ardent soirits, in any shape, and in all 
VOL. iv. 21 



j^ TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 

quantities, have been highly detrimental. Some temperate 
men resorted to them during the prevalence of the malady 
as a preventive, or to remove the feeling of uneasiness 
about the stomach, or for the purpose of drowning their ap- 
prehensions, but they did it at their peril." 

Says the London Morning Herald, after stating that the 
cholera fastens its deadly grasp upon this class of men, 
" The same preference for the intemperate and uncleanly 
has characterized the cholera everywhere. Intemperance 
is a qualification which it never overlooks. Often has it 
passed harmless over a wide population of temperate coun- 
try people, and poured down, as an overflowing scourge, 
upon the drunkards of some distant town." Says another 
English publication, " All experience, both in Great Britain 
and elsewhere, has proved that those who have been addict- 
ed to drinking spirituous liquors, and indulging in irregular 
habits, have been the greatest sufferers from cholera. In 
some towns the drunkards are all dead." Rammohun Fin- 
gee, the famous Indian doctor, says, with regard to India, 
that people who do not take opium, or spirits, do not take this 
disorder even when they are with those who have it. Mon- 
sieur Huber, who saw 2,160 persons perish in twenty-five 
days in one town in Russia, says, " It is a most remarkable 
circumstance, that persons given to drinking have been swept 
away like flies. In Tiflis, containing 20,000 inhabitants, 
every drunkard has fallen — all are dead, not one remains." 

Dr. Sewall, of Washington city, in a letter from New 
York, states, that of 204 cases of cholera in the Park hos- 
pital, there were only six temperate persons, and that those 
had recovered ; while 122 of the others, when he wrote, 
had died ; and that the facts were similar in all the other 
hospitals. 

In Albany, a careful examination was made by respect- 
able gentlemen into the cases of those who died of the chol- 
era in that city in 1832, over sixteen years of age. The 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. jg 

result was examined in detail by nine physicians, members 
of the medical staff attached to the board of health in that 
city — all who belong to it, except two, who were at that time 
absent — and published at their request under the signature 
of the Chancellor of the State, and the five distinguished 
gentlemen who compose the Executive Committee of the 
New York State Temperance Society, and is as follows : 
number of deaths, 366 ; viz. intemperate, 140 ; free drink- 
ers, 55 ; moderate drinkers, mostly habitual, 131 ; strictly 
temperate, who drank no ardent spirits, 5 ; members of Tem- 
perance societies, 2 ; and when it is recollected that of more 
than 5,000 members of Temperance societies in the city of 
Albany, only two, not one in 2,500, fell by this disease, 
while it cut off more than one in fifty of the inhabitants of 
that city, we cannot but feel that men who furnish ardent 
spirit as a drink for their fellow-men, are manifestly inviting 
the ravages, and preparing the victims of this fatal malady, 
and of numerous other mortal diseases ; and when inquisi- 
tion is made for blood, and the effects of their employment 
are examined for the purpose of rendering to them accord- 
ing to their work, they will be found, should they continue, 
to be guilty of knowingly destroying their fellow-men. 

What right have men, by selling ardent spirit, to increase 
the danger, extend the ravages, and augment and perpetuate 
the malignancy of the cholera, and multiply upon the com- 
munity numerous other mortal diseases ? Who cannot see 
that it is a foul, deep, and fatal injury inflicted on society? 
that it is in a high degree cruel and unjust? that it scatters 
the population of our cities, renders our business stagnant, 
and exposes our sons and our daughters to premature and 
sudden death ? So manifestly is this the case, that the board 
of health of the city of Washington, on the approach of the 
cholera, declared the vending of ardent spirit, in any quan- 
tity, to be a nuisance ; and, as such, ordered that it be dis- 
continued for the space of ninety days. This was done in 



IQ TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 

self-defence, to save the community from the sickness and 
death which the vending of spirit is adapted to occasion. 
Nor is this tendency to occasion disease and death confined 
to the time when the cholera is raging. 

By the statement of the physicians in Annapolis, Mary- 
land, it appears that the average number of deaths by in- 
temperance for several years, has been one to every 329 
inhabitants ; which would make in the United States 40,000 
in a year. And it is the opinion of physicians, that as many 
more die of diseases which are induced, or aggravated, and 
rendered mortal by the use of ardent spirit. And to those 
results, all who make it, sell it, or use it, are accessory. 

It is a principle in law, that the perpetrator of crime, 
and the accessory to it, are both guilty, and deserving of 
punishment. Men have been brought to the gallows on this 
principle. It applies to the law of God. And as the drunk- 
ard cannot go to heaven, can drunkard-makers ? Are they 
not, when tried by the principles of the Bible, in view of 
the developments of Providence, manifestly immoral men ? 
men who, for the sake of money, will knowingly be instru- 
mental in corrupting the character, increasing the diseases, 
and destroying the lives of their fellow-men ? 

" But," says one, " I never sell to drunkards ; I sell 
only to sober men." And is that any better ? Is it a less 
evil to the community to make drunkards of sober men 
than it is to kill drunkards ? Ask that widowed mother 
who did her the greatest evil : the man who only killed 
her drunken husband, or the man who made a drunkard 
of her only son ? Ask those orphan children who did them 
the greatest injury : the man who made their once sober, 
kind, and affectionate father a drunkard, and thus blasted 
all their hopes, and turned their home, sweet home, into 
the emblem of hell ; or the man who, after they had suf- 
fered for years the anguish, the indescribable anguish of 
the drunkard's children, and seen their heart-broken mother 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. yf 

in danger of an untimely grave, only killed their drunken 
father, and thus caused in their habitation a great calm ? 
Which of these two men brought upon them the greatest 
evil ? Can you doubt ? You, then, do nothing but make 
drunkards of sober men, or expose them to become such. 
Suppose that all the evils which you may be instrumental 
in bringing upon other children, were to come upon your 
own, and that you were to bear all the anguish which you 
may occasion ; would you have any doubt that the man 
who would knowingly continue to be accessory to the bring- 
ing of these evils upon you, must be a notoriously wicked 
man? 

5. Ardent spirit destroys the soul. 

Facts in great numbers are now before the public, which 
show conclusively that the use of ardent spirit tends strongly 
to hinder the moral and spiritual illumination and purification 
of men ; and thus to prevent their salvation, and bring upon 
them the horrors of the second death. 

A disease more dreadful than the cholera, or any other 
that kills the body merely, is raging, and is universal, threat- 
ening the endless death of the soul. A remedy is provided 
all-sufficient, and infinitely efficacious ; but the use of ardent 
spirit aggravates the disease, and with millions and millions 
prevents the application of the remedy and its effect. 

It appears from the fifth report of the American Tem- 
perance Society, that more than four times as many, in pro- 
portion to the number, over wide regions of country, during 
the preceding year, have apparently embraced the gqspel, 
and experienced its saving power, from among those who 
had renounced the use of ardent spirit, as from those who 
continued to use it. 

The committee of the New York State Temperance 
Society, in view of the peculiar and unprecedented atten- 
tion to religion which followed the adoption of the plan of 
abstinence from the use of strong drink, remark, that when 
VOL. iv. 21* 



1Q TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPTRIT. 

this course is taken, the greatest enemy to the work of 
the Holy Spirit on the minds and hearts of men, appears 
to be more than half conquered. 

In three hundred towns, six-tenths of those who two 
years ago belonged to Temperance societies, but were not 
hopefully pious, have since become so ; and eight-tenths of 
those who have within that time become hopefully pious, 
who did not belong to Temperance societies, have since 
joined them. In numerous places, where only a minority 
of the people abstained from the use of ardent spirit, nine- 
tenths of those who have of late professed the religion of 
Christ, have been from that minority. This is occasioned 
in various ways. The use of ardent spirit keeps many away 
from the house of God, and thus prevents them from com- 
ing under the sound of the gospel. And many who do 
come, it causes to continue stupid, worldly-minded, and un- 
holy. A single glass a day is enough to keep multitudes 
of men, under the full blaze of the gospel, from ever ex- 
periencing its illuminating and purifying power. Even if 
they come to the light, and it shines upon them, it shines 
upon darkness, and the darkness does not comprehend it; 
while multitudes who thus do evil will not come to the 
light, lest their deeds should be reproved. There is a total 
contrariety between the effect produced by the Holy Spirit, 
and the effect of spirituous liquor upon the minds and hearts 
of men. The latter tends directly and powerfully to coun- 
teract the former. It tends to make men feel in a manner 
which Jesus Christ hates, rich spiritually, increased in goods, 
and in need of nothing ; while it tends for ever to prevent 
them from feeling, as sinners must feel, to buy of him gold 
tried in the fire, that they may be rich. Those who use it, 
therefore, are taking the direct course to destroy their own 
souls; and those who furnish it, are taking the course to 
destroy the souls of their fellow-men. 

In one town, more than twenty times as many, in pro- 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 



19 



portion to the number, professed the religion of Christ during 
the past year, of those who did not use ardent spirit, as of 
those who did ; and in another town more than thirty times 
as many. In other towns, in which from one-third to two- 
thirds of the people did not use it, and from twenty to forty 
made a profession of religion, they were all from the same 
class. What, then, are those men doing who furnish it, but 
taking the course which is adapted to keep men stupid in 
sin till they sink into the agonies of the second death ? And 
is not this an immorality of a high and aggravated descrip- 
tion 1 and one which ought to mark every man who under- 
stands its nature and effects, and yet continues to live in it, 
as a notoriously immoral man ? What though he does not 
live in other immoralities — is not this enough ? Suppose he 
should manufacture poisonous miasma, and cause the cholera 
in our dwellings; sell, knowingly, the cause of disease, and 
increase more than one-fifth over wide regions of country the 
number of adult deaths, would he not be a murderer ? "I 
know," says the learned Judge Cranch, "that the cup" 
which contains ardent spirit " is poisoned ; I know that it 
may cause death, that it may cause more than death, that 
it may lead to crime, to sin, to the tortures of everlasting 
remorse. Am I not, then, a murderer 1 worse than a mur- 
derer ? as much worse as .the soul is better than the body ? 
If ardent spirits were nothing worse than a deadly poison — 
if they did not excite and inflame all the evil passions — if 
they did not dim that heavenly light which the Almighty 
has implanted in our bosoms to guide us through the obscure 
passages of our pilgrimage — if they did not quench the Holy 
Spirit in our hearts, they would be comparatively harmless. 
It is their moral effect — it is the ruin of the soul which they 
produce, that renders them so dreadful. The diiference be- 
tween death by simple poison, and death by habitual intoxi- 
cation, may extend to the whole difference between ever- 
lasting happiness and eternal death." 



20 TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 

And, say the New York State Society, at the head of 
which is the Chancellor of the State, " Disguise that business 
as they will, it is still, in its true character, the business of 
destroying the bodies and souls of men. The vender and 
the maker of spirits, in the whole range of them, from the 
pettiest grocer to the most extensive distiller, are fairly 
chargeable, not only with supplying the appetite for spirits, 
but with creating that unnatural appetite ; not only with 
supplying the drunkard with the fuel of his vices, but with 
making the drunkard. 

" In reference to the taxes with which the making and 
vending of spirits loads the community, how unfair towards 
others is the occupation of the maker and vender of them ! 
A town, for instance, contains one hundred drunkards. 
The profit of making these drunkards is enjoyed by some 
half a dozen persons ; but the burden of these drunkards 
rests upon the whole town. We do not suggest that there 
should be such a law, but we ask whether there would be 
one law in the whole statute-book more righteous than that 
which should require those who have the profit of making 
our drunkards to be. burdened with the support of them." 

Multitudes who once cherished the fond anticipation of 
happiness in this life and that to come, there is reason to 
believe, are now wailing beyond the reach of hope, through 
the influence of ardent spirit ; and multitudes more, if men 
continue to furnish it as a drink, especially sober men, will 
go down to weep and wail with them to endless ages. 

" But," says one, " the traffic in ardent spirit is a lawful 
business ; it is approbated by law, and is therefore right." 
But the keeping of gambling houses is, in some cases, 
approbated by. human law. Is that therefore right ? The 
keeping of brothels is, in some cases, approbated by law. 
Is that therefore right ? Is it human law that is the standard 
of morality and religion ? May not a man be a notoriously 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 21 

wicked man, and yet not violate human law 1 The question 
is, Is it right ? Does it accord with the divine law ? Does 
it tend in its effects to bring glory to God in the highest, and 
to promote the best good of mankind ? If not, the word of 
God forbids it ; and if a man who has the means of under- 
standing its nature and effects continues to follow it, he does 
it at the peril of his soul. 

" But," says another, " if I should not sell it, I could not 
sell so many other things." If you could not, then you are 
forbidden by the word of God to sell so many other things. 
And if you continue to make money by that which tends to 
destroy your fellow-men, you incur the displeasure of Je- 
hovah. " But if I should not sell it, I must change my 
business." Then you are required by the Lord to change 
your business. A voice from the throne of his excellent 
glory cries, " Turn ye, turn ye from this evil way ; for why 
will ye die ?" 

" If I should turn from it, I could not support my family." 
This is not true ; at least, no one has a right to say that it is 
true till he has tried it, and done his whole duty by ceasing 
to do evil and learning to do well, trusting in God, and has 
found that his family is not supported. Jehovah declares, 
that such as seek the Lord, and are governed by his will, 
shall not want any good thing. And till men have made 
the experiment of obeying him in all things, and found that 
they cannot support their families, they have no right to say 
that it is necessary for them to sell ardent spirit. And if 
they do say this, it is a libel on the divine character and 
government. There is no truth in it. He who feeds the 
sparrow and clothes the lily, will, if they do right, provide 
for them and their families ; and there is no shadow of 
necessity, in order to obtain support, for them to carry on a 
business which destroys their fellow-men. 

" But others will do it, if I do not." Others will send 
out their vessels, steal the black man, and sell him and his 



22 TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 

children into perpetual bondage, if you do not. Others will 
steal, rob, and commit murder, if you do not ; and why may 
not you do it, and have a portion of the profit, as well as 
they ? Because, if you do, you will be a thief, a robber, 
and a murderer, like them. You will here be partaker of 
their guilt, and hereafter of their plagues. Every friend, 
therefore, to you, to your Maker, or the eternal interests of 
men, will, if acquainted with this subject, say to you, As 
you value the favor of God, and would escape his righteous 
and eternal indignation, renounce this work of death ; for he 
that soweth death, shall also reap death. 

" But our fathers imported, manufactured, and sold 
ardent spirit, and were they not good men ? Have not 
they gone to heaven ?" Men who professed to be good once 
had a multiplicity of wives, and have not some of them too 
gone to heaven ? Men who professed to be good once were 
engaged in the slave-trade, and have not some of them gone 
to heaven ? But can men who understand the will of God 
with regard to these subjects, continue to do such things now, 
and yet go to heaven ? The principle which applies in this 
case, and which makes the difference between those who did 
such things once, and those who continue to do them now, is 
that to which Jesus Christ referred when he said, " If I had 
not come and spoken to them, they had not had sin ; but now 
they have no cloak for their sin." The days of that dark- 
ness and ignorance which God may have winked at have 
gone by, and he now commandeth all men to whom his will 
is made known to repent. Your fathers, when they were 
engaged in selling ardent spirit, did not know that all men, 
under all circumstances, would be better without it. They 
did not know that it caused three-quarters of the pauperism 
and crime in the land — that it deprived many of reason — 
greatly increased the number and severity of diseases, and 
brought down such multitudes to an untimely grave. The 
facts had not then been collected and published. They did 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 23 

not know that it tended so fatally to obstruct the progress of 
the Gospel, and ruin, for eternity, the souls of men. You 
do know it, or have the means of knowing it. You cannot 
sin with as little guilt as did your fathers. The facts, which 
are the voice of God in his providence, and manifest his will, 
are now before the world. By them he has come and spoken 
to you. And if you continue, under these circumstances, 
to violate his will, you will have no cloak, no covering, no 
excuse for your sin. And though sentence against this evil 
work is not executed at once, judgment, if you continue, 
will not linger, nor will damnation slumber. 

The accessory and the principal, in the commission of 
crime, are both guilty. Both by human laws are condemned. 
The principle applies to the law of God ; and not only drunk- 
ards, but drunkard-makers — not only murderers, but those 
who excite others to commit murder, and furnish them with 
the known cause of their evil deeds, will, if they understand 
what they do, and continue thus to rebel against God, be 
shut out of heaven. 

Among the Jews, if a man had a beast that went out and 
killed a man, the beast, said Jehovah, shall be slain, and his 
flesh shall not be eaten. The owner must lose the whole of 
him as a testimony to the sacredness of human life, and a 
warning to all not to do any thing, or connive at any thing 
that tended to destroy it. But the owner, if he did not know 
that the beast was dangerous, and liable to kill, was not 
otherwise to be punished. But if he did know, if it had been 
testified to the owner that the beast was dangerous, and liable 
to kill, and he did not keep him in, but let him go out, and 
he killed a man, then, by the direction of Jehovah, the beast 
and the owner were both to be put to death. The owner, 
under these circumstances, was held responsible, and justly 
too, for the injury which his beast might do. Though men 
are not required or permitted now to execute this law, as 
they were when God was the Magistrate, yet the reason of 



24 TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 

the law remains. It is founded in justice, and is eternal. 
To the pauperism, crime, sickness, insanity, and death 
temporal and eternal, which ardent spirit occasions, those 
who knowingly furnish the materials, those who manufac- 
ture, and those who sell it, are all accessory, and as such 
will be held responsible at the divine tribunal. There was 
a time when the owners did not know the dangerous and 
destructive qualities of this article — when the facts had not 
been developed and published, nor the minds of men turned 
to the subject ; when they did not know that it caused such 
a vast portion of the vice and wretchedness of the community, 
and such wide-spreading desolation to the temporal and 
eternal interests of men ; and although it then destroyed 
thousands, for both worlds, the guilt of the men who sold it 
was comparatively small. But now they sin against light, 
pouring down upon them with unutterable brightness ; and 
if they know what they do, and in full view of its conse- 
quences continue that work of death — not only let the poison 
go out, but furnish it, and send it out to all who are disposed 
to purchase — it had been better for them, and better for 
many others, if they had never been born. For, briefly to 
sum up what we have said, 

1. It is the selling of that, without the use of which 
nearly all the business of this world was conducted, till 
within less than three hundred years, and which of course 
is not needful. 

2. It is the selling of that which was not generally used 
by the people of this country for more than a hundred years 
after the country was settled, and which by hundreds of 
thousands, and some in all kinds of lawful business, is not 
used now. Once they did use it, and thought it needful or 
useful. But by experiment, the best evidence in the world, 
they have found that they were mistaken, and that they are 
in all respects better without it. And the cases are so nu- 
merous as to make it certain, that should the experiment be 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 25 

fairly made, this would be the case with all. Of course it 
is not useful. 

3. It is the selling of that which is a real, a subtile and 
very destructive poison — a poison which, by men in health, 
cannot be taken without deranging healthy action, and in- 
ducing more or less disease, both of body and mind ; which 
is, when taken in any quantity, positively hurtful; and 
which is of course forbidden by the word of God. 

4. It is the selling of that which tends to form an unnat- 
ural, and a very dangerous and destructive appetite ; which, 
by gratification, like the desire of sinning in the man who 
sins, tends continually to increase, and which thus exposes 
all who form it to come to a premature grave. 

5. It is the selling of that which causes a great portion 
of all the pauperism in our land ; and thus, for the benefit 
of a few — those who sell — brings an enormous tax on the 
whole community. Is this fair ? Is it just ? Is it not ex- 
posing our children and youth to become drunkards ? And 
is it not inflicting great evils on society ? 

6. It is the selling of that which excites to a great por- 
tion of all the crimes that are committed, and which is thus 
shown to be in its effects hostile to the moral government of 
God, and to the social, civil, and religious interests of men ; 
at war with their highest good, both for this life and the life 
to come. 

7. It is the selling of that, the sale and use of which, if 
continued, will form intemperate appetites, which, if formed, 
will be gratified, and thus will perpetuate intemperance and 
all its abominations to the end of the world. 

8. It is the selling of that which makes wives widows, 
and children orphans ; which leads husbands often to mur- 
der their wives, and wives to murder their husbands ; parents 
to murder their children, and children to murder their par- 
ents ; and which prepares multitudes for the prison, for the 
gallows, and for hell. 

vol. iv. 22 



2(3 TRAFFIC IX ARDENT SPIRIT. 

9. It is the selling of that which greatly increases the 
amount and severity of sickness ; which in many cases 
destroys reason ; which causes a great portion of all the 
sudden deaths, and brings down multitudes who were never 
intoxicated, and never condemned to suffer the penalty of 
the civil law, to an untimely grave. 

10. It is the selling of that which tends to lessen the 
health, the reason, and the usefulness, to diminish the com- 
fort, and shorten the lives of all who habitually use it. 

11. It is the selling of that which darkens the under- 
standing, sears the conscience, pollutes the affections, and 
debases all the powers of man. 

12. It is the selling of that which weakens the power of 
motives to do right, and increases the power of motives to do 
wrong, and is thus shown to be in its effects hostile to the 
moral government of God, as well as to the temporal and 
eternal interests of men ; which excites men to rebel against 
him, and to injure and destroy one another. And no man 
can sell it without exerting an influence which tends to hin- 
der the reign of the Lord Jesus Christ over the minds and 
hearts of men, and to lead them to persevere in iniquity, 
till, notwithstanding all the kindness of Jehovah, their case 
shall become hopeless. 

Suppose a man, when about to commence the traffic in 
ardent spirit, should write in great capitals on his sign-board, 
to be seen and read of all men, what he will do, viz., that 
so many of the inhabitants of this town or city, he will, for 
the sake of getting their money, make paupers, and send 
them to the almshouse, and thus oblige the whole commu- 
nity to support them and their families ; that so many others 
he will excite to the commission of crimes, and thus increase 
the expenses, and endanger the peace and welfare of the 
community; that so many he will send to the jail, and so 
many more to the state prison, and so many to the gallows ; 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 27 

that so many he will visit with sore and distressing diseases ; 
and in so many cases diseases which would have been com- 
paratively harmless, he will by his poison render fatal ; that 
in so many cases he will deprive persons of reason, and in 
so many cases will cause sudden death ; that so many wives 
he will make widows, and so many children he will make 
orphans, and that in so many cases he will cause the chil- 
dren to grow up in ignorance, vice, and crime, and after 
being nuisances on earth, will bring them to a premature 
grave ; that in so many cases he will prevent the efficacy 
of the Gospel, grieve away the Holy Ghost, and ruin for 
eternity the souls of men. And suppose he could, and should 
give some faint conception of what it is to lose the soul, and 
of the overwhelming guilt and coming wretchedness of him 
who is knowingly instrumental in producing this ruin ; and 
suppose he should put at the bottom of the sign this question, 
viz., What, you may ask, can be my object in acting so 
much like a devil incarnate, and bringing such accumulated 
wretchedness upon a comparatively happy people ? and 
under it should put the true answer, money ; and go on to 
say, I have a family to support ; I want money, and must 
have it ; this is my business, I was brought up to it ; and 
if I should not follow it I must change my business, or I 
could not support my family. And as all faces begin to 
gather blackness at the approaching ruin, and all hearts 
to boil with indignation at its author, suppose he should 
add for their consolation, " If I do not bring this destruc- 
tion upon you, somebody else will." What would they 
think of him ? what would all the world think of him 1 
what ought they to think of him ? And is it any worse 
for a man to tell the people beforehand honestly what he 
will do, if they buy and use his poison, than it is to go on 
and do it ? And what if they are not aware of the mis- 
chief which he is doing them, and he can accomplish it 
through their own perverted and voluntary agency ? Is it 



Og TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 

not equally abominable, if he knows it. and does not cease 
from producing it ? 

And if there are churches whose members are doing 
such things, and those churches are not blessed with the 
presence and favor of the Holy Ghost, they need not be at 
any loss for the reason. And if they should never again, 
while they continue in this state, be blessed with the reviv- 
ing influence of God's Spirit, they need not be at any loss 
for the reason. Their own members are exerting a strong 
and fatal influence against it; and that too after Divine 
Providence has shown them what they are doing. And in 
many such cases there is awful guilt with regard to this 
thing resting upon the whole church. Though they have 
known for years what these men were doing ; have seen the 
misery, heard the oaths, witnessed the crimes, and known 
the wretchedness and deaths which they have occasioned, 
and perhaps have spoken of it, and deplored it among one 
another ; many of them have never spoken on this subject 
to- the persons themselves. They have seen them scattering 
firebrands, arrows, and death temporal and eternal, and yet 
have never so much as warned them on the subject, and 
never besought them to give up their work of death. 

An individual lately conversed with one of his pro- 
fessed Christian brethren who was engaged in this traffic, 
and told him not only that he was ruining for both worlds 
many of his fellow-men, but that his Christian brethren 
viewed his business as inconsistent with his profession, and 
tending to counteract all efforts for the salvation of men; 
and the man, after frankly acknowledging that it was 
wrong, said that this was the first time that any of them 
had conversed with him on the subject. This may be the 
case with other churches ; and while it is, the whole church 
is conniving at the evil, and the whole church is guilty. 
Every brother, in such a case, is bound, on his oAvn ac- 
count, to converse with him who is thus aiding the powers 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 29 

of darkness, and opposing the kingdom of Jesus Christ, and 
try to persuade him to cease from this destructive business. 
The whole church is bound to make efforts, and use all 
proper means to accomplish this result. And before half 
the individual members have done their duty on this sub- 
ject, they may expect, if the offending brother has, and 
manifests the spirit of Christ, that he will cease to be an 
offence to his brethren, and a stumbling-block to the world, 
over which such multitudes fall to the pit of woe. And till 
the church, the whole church, do their duty on this subject, 
they cannot be freed from the guilt of conniving at the evil. 
And no wonder if the Lord leaves them to be as the moun- 
tains of Gilboa, on which there was neither rain or dew. 
And should the church receive from the world those who 
make it a business to carry on this notoriously immoral 
traffic, they will greatly increase their guilt, and ripen for 
the awful displeasure of God. And unless members of the 
church shall cease to teach, by their business, the fatal 
error that it is right for men to buy and use ardent spirit as 
a drink, the evil will never be eradicated, intemperance will 
never cease, and the day of millennial glory never come. 

Each individual who names the name of Christ is called 
upon, by the providence of God, to act on this subject openly 
and decidedly for him, and in such a manner as is adapted 
to banish intemperance and all its abominations from the 
earth, and to cause temperance and all its attendant bene- 
fits universally to prevail. And if ministers of the Gospel 
and members of Christian churches do not connive at the 
sin of furnishing this poison as a drink for their fellow-men ; 
and men who, in opposition to truth and duty, continue to 
be engaged in this destructive employment, are viewed and 
treated as wicked men ; the work which the Lord hath com- 
menced and carried forward with a rapidity, and to an ex- 
tent hitherto unexampled in the history of the world, will 
continue to move onward till not a name, nor a trace, nor a 

vol. iv. 22* 



3Q TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 

shadow of a drunkard, or a drunkard-maker, shall be found 
on the globe. 

Professed Christian — In the manufacture or sale of 
ardent spirit as a drink, you do not, and you cannot honor 
God ; but you do, and, so long as you continue it, you will 
greatly dishonor Him. You exert an influence which tends 
directly and strongly to ruin, for both worlds, your fellow- 
men. Should you take a quantity of that poisonous liquid 
into your closet, present it before the Lord, confess to him 
its nature and effects, spread out before him what it has 
done and what it will do, and attempt to ask him to bless 
you in extending its influence ; it would, unless your con- 
science is already seared as with a hot iron, appear to you 
like blasphemy. You could no more do it than you could 
take the instruments of gambling and attempt to ask God to 
bless you in extending them through the community. And 
why not, if it is a lawful business ? Why not ask God to 
increase it, and make you an instrument in extending it 
over the country, and perpetuating it to all future genera- 
tions 1 Even the worldly and profane man, when he hears 
about professing Christians offering prayer to God that he 
would bless them in the manufacture or sale of ardent 
spirit, involuntarily shrinks back and says, " That is too 
bad." He can see that it is an abomination. And if it is 
too bad for a professed Christian to pray about it, is it not 
too bad for him to practise it 1 If you continue, under all 
the light which God in his providence has furnished with 
regard to its hurtful nature and destructive effects, to furnish 
ardent spirit as a drink for your fellow-men, you will run 
the fearful hazard of losing your soul, and you will exert an 
influence which, powerfully tends to destroy the souls of 
your fellow-men. Every time you furnish it you are ren- 
dering it less likely that they will be illuminated, sanctified, 
and saved, and more likely that they will continue in sin 
and go down to the chambers of death. 



TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 31 

It is always worse for a church-member to do an im- 
moral act, and teach an immoral sentiment, than for an im- 
moral man, because it does greater mischief. And this is 
understood, and often adverted to by the immoral them- 
selves. Even drunkards are now stating it to their fellow- 
drunkards, that church-members are not better than they. 
And to prove it, are quoting the fact, that although they 
are not drunkards, and perhaps do not get drunk, they, for 
the sake of money, carry on the business of making drunk- 
ards. And are not the men and their business of the same 
character ? " The deacon," says a drunkard, " will not 
use ardent spirit himself: he says, ' It is poison !' But for 
six cents he will sell it to me. And though he will not fur- 
nish it to his own children, for he says, ' It will ruin them !' 
yet he will furnish it to mine. And there is my neighbor, 
who was once as sober as the deacon himself, but he had a 
pretty farm, which the deacon wanted, and for the sake of 
getting it he has made him a drunkard. And his wife, as 
good a woman as ever lived, has died of a broken heart, 
because her children would follow their father." No, you 
cannot convince even a drunkard, that the man who is sell- 
ing him that which he knows is killing him, is any better 
than the drunkard himself. Nor can you convince a sober 
man, that he who, for the sake of money, will, with his eyes 
open, make drunkards of sober men, is any less guilty than 
the drunkards he makes. 

Is this writing upon their employment " Holiness unto 
the Lord," without which no one, from the Bible, can expect 
to be prepared for the holy joys of heaven ? As ardent 
spirit is a poison which, when used even moderately, tends 
to harden the heart, to sear the conscience, to blind the un- 
derstanding, to pollute the affections, to weaken and derange 
and debase the whole man, and to lessen the prospect of his 
eternal life, it is the indispensable duty of each person to 
renounce it. And he cannot refuse to do this without be- 



32 TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRIT. 

coming, if acquainted with this subject, knowingly accessory 
to the temporal and eternal ruin of his fellow-men. And 
what will it profit him to gain even the whole world by that 
which ruins the soul ? 

My friend, you are soon to die, and in eternity to witness 
the influence, the whole influence, which you exert while on 
earth, and you are to witness its consequence in joy or sor- 
row to endless being. Imagine yourself now, where you 
soon will be, on your death-bed. And imagine that you 
have a full view of the property which you have caused to 
be wasted, or which you have gained without furnishing any 
valuable equivalent ; of the health which you have destroyed, 
and the characters which you have demoralized ; of the wives 
that you have made widows, and the children that you have 
made orphans ; of all the lives that you have shortened, 
and all the souls that you have destroyed. O I imagine that 
these are the only "rod and staff" which you have to com- 
fort you as you go down the valley of the shadow of death, 
and that they will all meet you in full array at the judgment 
and testify against you. What will it profit you, though 
you have gained more money than you otherwise would, 
when you have left it all far behind in that world which is 
destined to fire, and the day of perdition of ungodly men ? 
What will it profit, when you are enveloped in the influence 
which you have exerted, and are experiencing its conse- 
quences to endless ages; finding for ever that as a man 
soweth so must he reap, and that if he has sowed death he 
must reap death? Do not any longer assist in destroying 
men, nor expose yourself and your children to be destroyed. 
Do good, and good only, to all as you have opportunity, and 
good shall come unto you. 



J¥oi 126. 

THE 



BLIND SLAVE IN THE MINES. 



BY REV. EDWARD HITCHCOCK, D. D. 



Moral sublimity does not require for its exhibition a 
distinguished station, great wealth, or eminent learning. 
Where there is humble piety, we sometimes meet with the 
noblest specimens of true moral grandeur in the obscurest 
condition of life. Indeed, true religion has in its very na- 
ture the elements of genuine nobility and lofty sublimity. 
The most striking example which ever occurred to my ob- 
servation, to illustrate this sentiment, met me recently in a 
spot least expected ; and I cannot but hope that a description 
of the scene may teach others the priceless value of the Chris- 
tian hope, and lead some, now destitute of it, to secure the 
precious boon, while mercy holds it out to their acceptance. 

With a companion I had descended a thousand feet per- 
pendicularly, beneath the earth's surface, into one of the 
coal mines of eastern Virginia, called the Mid Lothian Pit. 
As we were wandering through its dark passages — numer- 
ous and extensive enough to form a subterranean city — 
the sound of music at a little distance caught our ears. It 
ceased upon our approach ; but we perceived that it was 
sacred music, and we heard the concluding sentiment of 
the hymn, "I shall be in heaven in the morning." 

On advancing with our lamps we found the passage 
closed by a door, in order to give a different direction to 
the currents of air for the purpose of ventilation : yet this 
door must be opened occasionally to let the rail- cars pass, 
loaded with coal. And to accomplish this, we found sitting 
by that door an aged blind slave, whose eyes had been en- 
tirely destroyed by a blast of gunpowder many years before, 
in that mine. There he sat, on a seat cut in the coal, from 



2 THE BLIND SLAVE LN THE MINES. 

sunrise to sunset, day after day ; his sole business being to 
open and shut the door when he heard the rail- cars ap- 
proaching. We requested him to sing again the hymn 
whose last line we had heard. It was, indeed, lame in ex- 
pression, and in poetic measure very defective, being in fact 
one of those productions which we found the pious slaves 
were in the habit of singing, in part at least, impromptu. 
But each stanza closed with the sentiment, " I shall be in 
heaven in the morning." 

It was sung with a clear and pleasant voice, and I could 
see the shrivelled, sightless eyeballs of the old man rolling 
in their sockets, as if his soul felt the inspiring sentiments ; 
and really the exhibition was one of the most affecting that 
I have ever witnessed. There he stood, an old man, whose 
earthly hopes, even at the best, must be very faint — and he 
was a slave — and he was blind — what could he hope for on 
earth? He was buried, too, a thousand feet beneath the 
solid rocks. In the expressive language of Jonah, " he had 
gone down to the bottom of the mountains ; the earth with 
her bars was about him for ever." There, from month to 
month, he sat in total darkness. 0, how utterly cheerless 
his condition. And yet that one blessed hope of a resur- 
rection morning was enough to infuse peace and joy into his 
soul. I had often listened to touching music ; I had heard 
gigantic intellect pour forth enchanting eloquence ; but 
never did music or eloquence exert such an overpowering 
influence upon my feelings, as did this scene. Never before 
did I feel the mighty power of Christian hope. Never be- 
fore did I witness so grand an exhibition of moral sublimity. 
O, how comparatively insignificant did earth's mightiest 
warriors and statesmen, her princes and emperors, and even 
her philosophers, without piety, appear. , How powerless 
would all their pomp, and pageantry, and wisdom be to 
sustain them, if called to change places with this poor slave ! 
He had a principle within him superior to them all ; and 
when the morning which he longs for shall come, how infi- 
nitely better than theirs will his lot appear to an admiring 
universe. And that morning shall ere long break upon thy 



THE BLIND SLAVE IN THE MINES. 3 

darkness, benighted old man. The light of the natural sun, 
and the face of this fair world will never, indeed, revisit 
you ; and the remnant of your days must be spent in your 
monotonous task, by the side of the wicket gate, deep in 
the caverns of the earth. But that bright and blessed hope 
of a resurrection-morning shall not deceive you. The Sav- 
iour in whom you trust, shall manifest himself to you, even 
in your deep darkness ; and at the appointed hour, the 
chains of slavery shall drop off, and the double night that 
envelops you shall vanish into the light, and the liberty, and 
glory of heaven. And just in proportion to the depths of 
your darkness and degradation now, shall be the brightness 
and the joy of that everlasting day. 

I would add, that on inquiry of the pious slaves engaged 
in these mines, I found that the blind old man had a fair 
reputation for piety, and that it was not till the loss of his 
eyes that he was led to the Saviour. It may be that the 
destruction of his natural vision was the necessary means 
of opening the eye of faith within his soul. And though we 
should shudder at the thought of exchanging conditions with 
him on earth, yet who • can say but his peculiar and deep 
tribulation here, may prepare his soul for a distinction in 
glory which we might covet. Oh how much better to en- 
dure even his deep degradation and privations, sustained by 
his hopes, than to partake of their fortune who live in lux- 
ury and pleasure, or riot in wealth, or lord it over prostrate 
millions, or have fame's trumpet sounding before them 
wherever they go, if with their good things here, we must 
have their portion in eternity. How very probable, that as 
they lift up their eyes hereafter in hell, being in torments, 
they may see this poor slave in Abraham's bosom, and en- 
treat that he may be sent with a drop of water to cool their 
parched tongues. 

The scene which I have now described affords a most 
animating lesson of encouragement to the tried and the af- 
flicted, and of reproof to the complaining and discontented. 

Suppose health does fail us, and poverty oppress us, 
and our friends forsake us, and our best laid plans prove 



4 THE BLIND SLAVE LN THE MINES. 

abortive, so that a dark cloud settles upon our worldly 
prospects — who of us is reduced so low as to be willing 
to change places with this poor slave ? And yet he is able 
to keep his spirits buoyant by the single hope of future 
glory. He thinks of a morning that is to come, when even 
his deep and dreadful darkness shall pass away ; and the 
thought has a magic power to sustain him. If we are 
Christians, shall not that same hope chase away our de- 
spondency, and nerve us to bear cheerfully those trials 
which are far inferior to his ? And as to murmuring at the 
allotments of Providence, and regarding our lot as a hard 
one, how ashamed ought we to be of such feelings, when 
we think of the uncomplaining submission of this ignorant 
slave, sitting alone days and months by this wicket gate, 
deep in the earth's bosom, and destined never again to see 
the light of day. Let us see to it, rather, that his example 
does not condemn us in the day of judgment, and that we 
be not compelled to take our place far below him in the 
kingdom of heaven, if, indeed, we enter there. 

This scene, also, cannot but remind us of the amazing 
change which the morning hoped for by this old man will 
produce in his condition. It was something, I thought, to 
be lifted out of the deep dungeon where he sits, to the light 
of the day ; it would be far more to be restored to sight 
when thus brought to the surface : another priceless boon 
would be relief from the rule of slavery, although in the 
present case I had reason to think that rule of the gentlest 
kind ; but still more glorious will be an introduction into 
the city of which the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb 
are the light! Oh, as I looked at the old man in his 
dungeon, and thought of all these changes, and of his be- 
coming a pure, spotless spirit in the New Jerusalem, how 
insignificant did the proudest earthly distinctions appear, 
and how did the title of Christian swallow them all up, and 
that only seem of any consequence. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 127. 



OBLIGATIONS OF A GUARDIAN 



BY AN EMINENT COUNSELLOR AT LAW. 



The trust of guardian to the fatherless, which you have 
taken upon yourself, is one of the most momentous of all 
responsibilities. The relation of a parent is deeply interest- 
ing ; for the principles he may instil into the mind of his 
child, may be the means of scattering blessings upon thou- 
sands, or of entailing on them unnumbered miseries. And a 
guardian stands in the place of a parent. If the law of the 
land invests him, as it certainly does, with a parent's powers, 
he cannot but be bound by a parent's obligations. The 
property, the health, the habits, the morals, the religious 
principles, and consequently the happiness of your ward, 
both in this life and in the world to come, all depend on 
your faithfulness. And you are especially accountable to 
that God who has declared the widow and the fatherless to 
be the objects of his peculiar care. He is " the helper of 
the fatherless." Psalm 10 : 14. In him " the fatherless 
findeth mercy." Hosea 14 : 3. " He executeth the judg- 
ment of the fatherless and widow." Deut. 10 : 18 ; Psalm 
10: 18. "A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the 
widows, is God in his holy habitation." Psalm 68 : 5. 
" He will be a swift witness against those that oppress the 
hireling in his wages, the widow and the fatherless." Mai. 
3:5. And he has thus distinctly denounced his vengeance 
against those who do them wrong : " Ye shall not afflict any 
widow or fatherless child. If thou afflict them in any wise, 
and they cry at all unto me, I will surely hear their cry. 
vol. iv. 23 



2 OBLIGATION'S OF A GUARDIAN. 

And my wrath shall wax hot, and I will kill you with the 
sword ; and your wives shall be widows, and your children 
fatherless." Exod. 22 : 22-24. 

Secured as the performance of your duty thus is by the 
most solemn sanctions, while you are impelled, by every 
sacred principle, to its faithful discharge, you will find such 
a performance of it proportionably delightful. And happy, 
thrice happy may you finally be, in meeting both the grate- 
ful child and its departed parent in the presence of an om- 
niscient and approving Judge ! 

It is not enough to suppose, that, while you do not liter- 
ally oppress, or defraud, or afflict the orphan, no part of 
your duty is neglected. They are entitled to your guardian 
care, to your kindness and sympathy, and to your vigilance 
over their persons, their minds, and their estates. 

Of the management of their estates it is not my present 
purpose to speak. This may be the most laborious of your 
duties, but at the same time the least perplexing. Com- 
mon vigilance and prudence will guide you through this 
department with safety, and insure a favorable event in the 
settlement of your accounts. But even here it is to be 
remembered, that the orphan's estate is entitled to the same 
care with your own : nay, to more, if you are in the habit 
of neglecting your own ; for his is not to be neglected. It 
must be kept in repair ; be protected from injury and waste ; 
be preserved from embarrassment; be managed with the 
least possible cost and expense ; the debts due to your ward 
must be carefully and prudently collected ; if his property 
is decreed to be sold, it must be done openly, with the dili- 
gent use of all lawful means to bring it to its fair value, and 
without collusion. The law, in its solicitude to preserve 
your integrity, will not suffer you to become the purchaser 
of your ward's estate. It requires you to keep an exact 
account of every sum of money you receive and expend, 
and to be always prepared to exhibit a particular statement 
of all your proceedings ; and it allows you, at the close, a 



OBLIGATIONS OF A GUARDIAN. 3 

just reward. All this common talents and common honesty 
may accomplish ; and advice on these subjects can always 
be obtained whenever occasion may require. My object is 
rather to animate and encourage you to a faithful and punc- 
tual discharge of that portion of a guardian's duty, for the 
neglect of which he is not so strictly amenable to human 
tribunals. 

In the education of your ward, he is to receive from you 
the impulses of his future life ; and before he is able to re- 
gulate his own conduct, if you have awakened his affections, 
or gained his confidence, he will implicitly follow your foot- 
steps, adopt your habits and principles, and be governed by 
the like motives with your own. How important, then, that 
the examples you hold out to him should be correct ; that the 
whole course of your life should be such as he may safely 
follow ! Here commences the duty you owe to him. How 
can you successfully impress him with the fear of God, un- 
less it is apparent that his fear is ever present with you ? 
Will he reverence the being whose name he hears his guard- 
ian profane ? Or will he respect those laws which he per- 
ceives you dispense with at pleasure ? Of what value will 
he esteem truth and sincerity, while these are habitually 
disregarded by his instructor and guide ? Would you train 
him to industry, and sobriety, and temperance 1 Let him 
see that your own conduct is steadily regulated by these 
virtues. If your precepts and your practice are at variance, 
he will surely copy the latter ; esteeming it, as all men do, 
the living and practical exposition of your real faith. Your 
life will act upon his life. His heart will catch the spirit 
and the passions of yours. It is therefore among the first 
of duties, that you should give him the benefit of a good ex- 
ample. Without this, all attempts to train him to a life of 
virtue and religion will be vain. 

Whether your ward is confided to your care at an early, 
or at a more advanced age, it is necessary that he be 
furnished with employment. It is proverbially true, that 



4 OBLIGATIONS OF A GUARDIAN. 

idleness is the bane of virtue, and the fruitful parent of all 
vice. It both enervates the body and paralyzes the energies 
of the mind. Children and youth are naturally busy ; they 
delight in motion ; and are most happy when in the active 
pursuit of some object. This law of their very being and 
constitution must be made subservient to their happiness, or 
it will work their ruin. Give them, therefore, useful and 
virtuous employment. No matter whether they are rich or 
poor. If the former, do not suppose, that, because their 
wealth in your hands is adequate to their support, it is there- 
fore your duty to suffer them to live idly, and of course 
unprofitably to the community, and miserably to themselves. 
Such mistaken views of their duty, in some guardians, have, 
doubtless, deprived society of those who might have been 
numbered among its brightest ornaments. Propose to your 
ward an object worthy of his character. In his early life 
teach him to labor and to think. Let his mind and his body 
be kept in activity, by proper alternations of instruction, of 
amusement, and of toil. Let him feel that he is born to be 
useful ; that every grade in society is within his power to 
attain ; and that for the right use of his talents and means 
he is deeply responsible to God. 

Teach him punctuality in the fulfilment of all his en- 
gagements, and a scrupulous and sacred regard to truth. 
Let him know that every assertion which is not true, is false ; 
and that all falsehood is hateful in the sight of him, who is 
" not man, that he should lie." There is no deception in 
heaven. " Whatsoever loveth or maketh a lie," cannot enter 
there. One of the distinguishing traits in the character of 
Christ, our great Exemplar, was his sincerity. "If it were 
not so," said he, " I would have told you." He would not 
give countenance to error, even by his silence. If, as we 
are constantly taught, our characters for eternity are formed 
on earth, let children be early divested of all duplicity and 
falsehood, and be trained to an ardent love and the steady 
practice of truth, even in their most sportive moments. If 



OBLIGATIONS OF A GUARDIAN. 5 

you admit any deviations from truth, even of the most venial 
character, by what rule will you fix the limit at which false- 
hood becomes a crime ? Perhaps, by indifference to this 
subject in early life, the foundation has been laid for per- 
petual unhappiness, from the inveterate habit of speaking 
whatever, at the moment, appeared most convenient, without 
regard to its consistency with truth. And from the neglect 
to preserve and cultivate a conscientious and habitual rev- 
erence for strict veracity in all our conversation, the mind, 
after a lapse of time, loses its accurate perception of truth, 
and wanders disgracefully into the regions of falsehood ; the 
miserable victim being alike unable to fix his faith and to 
regulate his conduct. 

Observe his master -passion, and begin early the work of 
rendering it subservient to the great design of his existence. 
If his mind is active, and vigorous, and grasping; if his 
thirst for knowledge is strong ; excite in him also the desire 
to impart knowledge to others, and to advance especially that 
which is most useful to the mass of mankind. If he is am- 
bitious of fame and distinction, direct him to aspire after that 
honor which cometh from God alone ; and let him seek it in 
advancing the real happiness of his fellow-men. 

Direct him wisely and carefully in Ms choice of books 
and company. It is the happiness of our country, that the 
means of instruction are within the reach of all. Schools 
and books are multiplied without limit ; and the facility with 
which subsistence is acquired, affords opportunity for im- 
provement to all classes and all ages. The sale of books 
too, of some kind or other, is become part of the employment 
of very many shopkeepers and dealers, as well as of itine- 
rant traders. So that the young will furnish themselves 
with books ; and an influence, often before parents are aware 
of it, will be thus exerted over their minds, and a direction 
given to their future lives. Your ward will choose his own 
books, unless you select them for him ; or rather, he will 
read such as most delight his fancy and awaken his im- 
vol. IV. 23* 



(j OBLIGATIONS OF A GUARDIAN. 

agination and his passions, without considering whether their 
tendency is evil or good. Oh what a weight of responsibility 
rests on parents and guardians, respecting the principles they 
suffer to be instilled, through this channel, into the minds of 
the young ! And how many are the mischiefs which enter 
through this polluted avenue ! It is thus that the poison of 
atheism is infused, and the hopes of religion blighted for 
ever. It is thus that the first germ of manhood is melted 
away in the lap of debauchery and libidinous appetite. Let 
their books, therefore, and their companions, be selected with 
equal care ; and let both be such as have a tendency to pro- 
mote their present advantage and their future well-being. 
Lead your ward into the path of virtuous emulation. Teach 
him that there is nothing beneath the desire of a wise man 
to know, if it can possibly render him more useful to his 
fellow-men. Let him be ambitious of filling a wide circle 
of activity and beneficence ; and accustom him early to 
make even his pleasures and recreations conducive to the 
great object he proposes to accomplish by his life. 

And this leads me to suggest the importance of calling 
strongly to the mind of every youth, the advantage of com- 
mencing life with some settled plan of usefulness, to be accom- 
plished by the means which Providence may have placed 
within his reach. If he is rich, he must be taught that his 
wealth is to be employed. It is a sacred deposit in his hands 
from God. If he is poor, still he owes to God the full and 
unwearied application of all his energies to the service of 
his fellow-men. In what manner this wealth and these 
energies can be best applied, must depend on the particular 
circumstances of each case. But if a plan is once formed, 
and the mind of a youth is properly excited and interested 
in its accomplishment, this object becomes the pole-star of 
his life, and gives regularity and consistency to Iris conduct. 
To every solicitation of vice, or of idle company, or of his 
own strong passions, he will be ready to reply, " I am doing 
a great work, and I cannot come down." So every day will 



OBLIGATIONS OF A GUARDIAN. 7 

be allotted a time for the performance of its appropriate 
duties, from which pleasure will no longer have the power 
to allure him. Thus his bark will be poised and ballasted 
for the voyage of life, and every sail be spread to every 
breeze which can aid in wafting him to the haven where he 
would be. 

Above all, seek his eternal happiness in the conversion 
of his soul. Its redemption is precious. Man is an immortal 
being. He only puts off the earthly house of this tabernacle, 
to be clothed with immortality. But short and fleeting as 
this life is, it is long enough to form the character for eter- 
nity. It is our warfare, which must be accomplished ; and 
if we steadily contend under the banners of the great Cap- 
tain of our salvation, he will make us more than conquerors. 
It is the laboratory in which the man of the other world is 
formed ; the mould in which his destiny is cast for the life 
to come. He is daily painting his future likeness, height- 
ening the touches of its brightness and glory, or deepening 
its shades of deformity and darkness. At death, how sudden 
soever the messenger may arrest his hand, this character is 
fixed. The blood of Jesus, which cleanseth from all sin, is 
no longer applied to wash away the stains of his guilt. He 
that is unholy at that moment, remains unholy for ever. 
The soul, disembodied, goes to its own place. It seeks its 
kindred. If Christ be formed within it the hope of glory, it 
ascends to his presence, to dwell with the spirits of the just 
made perfect for ever. But if the great business of prepa- 
ration for eternity has been neglected, and the numerous sins 
of this life be unforgiven, because unrepented of — if the 
enmity that is in it have not been slain — it still seeks the 
company of its fellows ; and finds its home among those 
who, as they lived without God in this world, are doomed to 
pass a dreary eternity without the light of his presence in 
the world to come. If, with all the intelligence and light 
which pervade our country at the present day, all the re- 
straints of law, and religion, and public opinion, and the fear 



8 OBLIGATIONS OF A GUARDIAN. 

of punishment, were at once removed, who could dwell amid 
the robberies, and murders, and violence, and debaucheries, 
and blasphemies which would ensue ? And who then can 
look, unappalled, upon the future condition of those who, 
not having been willing to enroll themselves under Christ's 
banner here, will be compelled to associate with his enemies 
for ever ? If men will live without God, let them remem- 
ber that he can be happy without them. 

And can motives be wanting to the performance of these 
duties ? Your country demands it of your patriotism ; for 
she looks with solicitude to the rising generation, as her 
future hope and protection. To them are to be confided her 
reputation, her virtue, her institutions, her liberties, and con- 
sequently her safety. Upon these the youth intrusted to 
your care is hereafter to exert an influence, either to build 
up and preserve, or to undermine and destroy. Nay, more, 
the God of the fatherless himself requires you to bring up 
this child for him : on the one hand, denouncing his male- 
diction against those who defraud or wrong the orphan ; 
and, on the other, assuring to every faithful guardian a 
glorious reward in the retributions of eternity. 



Note. — This Tract is perpetuated through the liberality of 
"An old Judge of Probate," who "in his early days ex- 
perienced many of the privations, and knew the feelings of an 
orphan " and who hoped " that the benevolence of Judges and 
Registers of Probate will induce them to aid in its circulation." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



]\o. 138. 



POOR SARAH 










- -^ ■"' ,^i3 



It was a chilly morning in the month of March, 1814, 
when I first became acquainted with poor Sarah. She call- 
ed to solicit a few crusts, saying that she " desired nothing 
but crumbs — they were enough for her poor old body, just 
ready to crumble into dust." I had heard of Sarah, a pious 
Indian woman, and was therefore prepared to receive her 
with kindness ; remembering the words of my Lord, " Inas- 
much as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my 
brethren, ye have done it unto me." 

" And how," I said to her, " have you managed, this 
long cold-winter?" "O Misse," she replied, "God better 
to Sarah than she fear. When winter come on, Sarah was 

in great doubt : no husband, no child here but ; she 

wicked, gone a great deal. What if great snow come ? 



2 rooR saraii. 

what if lire go out ? my neighbor great way off: what if 
sick all alone ? what if die ? nobody know it. While I 
think so in my heart, then I cry : while crying, something 
speak in my mind, and say, Trust in God, Sarah ; he love 
his people ; he never leave them ; he never forsake them ; 
he never forsake Sarah : he is friend indeed ; go tell Jesus, 
Sarah ; he love to hear prayer ; he often hear Sarah, when 
she pray. So I wipe my eyes ; don't cry any more ; go 
out into the bushes, where nobody see, fall down on my old 
knees, and pray. God give me great many words; I pray 
a great while. God make all my mind peace. When I 
get up, I go in the house, but can't stop praying in my 
mind. All my heart burn with love to God ; willing to 
live cold, go hungry, be sick, die all alone, if God be there. 
He know best ; Sarah don't know. So I feel happy, and 
great many days go singing the good hymn : 

' Now I can trust the Lord for ever ; 
He can clothe, and he can feed : 
He my rock, and he my Saviour, 
Jesus is a friend indeed.' " 

" Well, Sarah, have you been comfortably supplied ?" 
" O yes," she replied, " I never out corn meal once all 
winter " " But how do you cook it, Sarah, so as to make 
it comfortable food ?" " Oh, I make porridge, Misse ; 
sometimes I get out, like to-day, and I go get some crusts 
of bread and some salt to put into it ; then it is so nourish- 
ing to this poor old body ; but when I can get none, then I 
make it good as I can, and kneel down, pray God to bless 
it to me ; and I feel as if God feed me, and be so happy 
here " — laying her hand on her heart. Oh, what a lesson, 
thought I, for my repining heart ! " But do you have no 
meat, or other necessaries, Sarah ?" " Not often, Misse : 
sometimes I get so hungry for it, I begin to feel wicked ; 
then think how Jesus hungry in the desert. But when 
Satan tempt him to sin to get food, he would not. So I say, 



POOR SARAH. 



Sarah won't sin to get victuals. I no steal, no eat stolen 
food, though I be hungry ever so long. Then God gives 
me a small look of himself, his Son, and his glory. And I 
think in my heart, they all be mine soon ; then I no suffer 
hunger any more — my Father's house have many man- 
sions." "Sarah," said I, "you seem to have some know- 
ledge of the Scriptures ; can you read?" " I can spell out 
a little; I can't read like you white folks : Oh, if I could !" 
Here she burst into tears ; but, after regaining her com- 
posure, she added, "This, Misse, what I want above all 
things, more than victuals or drink. Oh, how often I beg 
God to teach me to read, and he do teach me some. When 
I take Bible, kneel down, and pray, he shows me great 
many words, and they be so sweet I want to know a great 
deal more. Oh, when I get home to heaven, then I know 
all, then I no want to read any more." 

In this strain of simple piety, she told me her first interest- 
ing story. And when she departed, I could not but feel that 
she gave striking evidence that she was a true child of 
God. In one of the many visits she afterwards made me, 
she gave me in substance the following account of her con- 
version. 

She lived un'Jl she became a wife and a mother, without 
hope and without God in the world ; having been brought 
up in extreme ignorance. Her husband treated her with 
great severity, and she became dejected and sorrowful : to 
use her own simple language, " I go sorrow, sorrow, all 
day long. When night come, husband come home angry ; 
then I think, Oh, if Sarah had one friend ! but Sarah no 
friend. I no want to tell neighbor I got trouble — that only, 
make it worse. So I be quiet, tell nobody, only cry night 
and day for one good friend. One Sunday, good neighbor 
come and say, Come, Sarah, go to meeting. So I call my 
children, tell them stay in the house while I go. When I 
got there, minister tell all about Jesus ; how he was born in 
a stable, go suffer all his life, die on the great cross, was 
buried, rise again, and go up into heaven, so always be 



4 POOR SARAH. 

sinner's friend. He say, too, if you got trouble, go tell 
Jesus; he best friend in sorrow, he bring you out of trouble, 
he support you, make you willing to suffer. So when I go 
home, I think great deal what minister say : think this the 
friend I want, this the friend I cry for so long. Poor igno- 
rant Sarah never hear so much about Jesus before. Then 
I try to tell Jesus how I want such a friend. But, Oh, 
my heart so hard, can't feel, can't pray, can't love Jesus, 
though he so good. This make me sorrow more and more. 
" When Sunday come, want to go again. Husband say, 
No, I beat you if you go. So I wait till he be gone off 
hunting, then shut up children safe, and run to meeting, sit 
down in the door, hear minister tell how bad my heart is — 
no love to God, no love to Jesus, no love to pray. So then 
I see why I can't have Jesus for my friend, because I got 
so bad heart : then I go praying all the way home, ' Jesus, 
make my heart better.' When get home, find children safe, 
feel glad husband no come ; only sorrow because my wicked 
heart, but don't know how to make it better. When I go 
sleep, then dream I can read good book : dream I read 
there, Sarah must be horn again ; in morning keep thinking 
what that word mean. When husband go to work, run 
over to my good neighbor^ ask her if the Bible say so. 
Then she read me where that great man go to see Jesus by 
night, because he afraid to go in the daytime. Think he 
just like Sarah. She must go in secret to hear about Jesus, 
else husband be angry. Then I feel encouraged ; deter- 
mined to have Jesus for my friend. So ask neighbor how 
to get a good heart. She tell me, Give your heart to Jesus; 
he will give the Holy Spirit to make it better. Sarah don't 
know what she mean — never hear about the Holy Spirit. 
She say I must go to meeting next Sunday ; she will tell 
minister about me ; he tell me what to do. So Sarah go 
to hear how she must be born again. Minister say, You 
must go and fall down before God ; tell him you are grieved 
because you sin; tell him you want a better heart; tell 
him, for Christ Jesus' sake, give the Holy Spirit, to make 



POOR SARAH. 5 

your heart new. Then Sarah go home light, because she 
know the way. 

" When I get home, my husband angry because I go to 
meeting, and don't stay at home and work. I say, Sarah 
can't work any more on Sunday, because it is sin against 
God. I rather work nights, when moon shine. So he drive 
me hoe corn that night, he so angry. I want to pray great 
deal, so go out, hoe corn, pray all the time. When come 
in the house, husband sleep. Then I kneel down, and tell 
Jesus take my bad heart — can't bear my bad heart, pray 
give me the Holy Spirit, make my heart soft, make it all 
new. Go meeting all Sundays; if husband beat me, never 
mind it ; go hear good neighbor read Bible every day. 

" So, after a great while, God make all my mind peace. 
1 love Jesus ; love pray to him, love tell him all my sor- 
rows: he take away my sorrow, make all my soul joy; 
only sorrow because can't read the Bible, and learn how to 
be like Jesus ; want to be like his dear people the Bible tell 
of. So I make a great many brooms, and go get a Bible for 
them. When I come home, husband call me a fool for it; 
say he burn it up. Then I go hide it ; when he is gone, 
then I get it, kiss it many times, because it Jesus' good 
word. Then I go ask neighbor if she learn me to read. 
She say,. Yes. Then I go many days to learn my letters, 
pray God all the while to help me to read his holy word. 
So, Misse, I learn to read good hymn ; learn to spell out 
many good words in the Bible. So every day I take my 
Bible, tell my children that be God's word ; tell them how 
Jesus die on cross for sinners ; then make them all kneel 
down ; I pray God give them new hearts ; pray for husband 
too, he so wicked. Oh, how I sorrow for him ; fear his soul 
must go in the burning flame." 

" Sarah," said I, " how long did your husband live ?" 
" O he live great many year." " Did he repent and be- 
come a good man V " No, no, Misse, I afraid not ; he sin 
more and more. O me, when he got sick, my soul in great 
trouble for him ; talk every day to him, but he no hear 
vol. iv. 24 



6 . POOR SARAH. 

Sarah. I say, how can you bear to go in the burning fire 
where the worm never die, where the fire never go out ? 
At last he get angry, bid me hold my tongue. So I don't 
say any more, only mourn over him every day before God. 
Afterward, when he was drowned, my heart say, Father, 
thy will be done — Jesus do all things well. Sarah can't 
help him now, he be in God's hands ; all is well. So then I 
give my heart all away to Jesus; tell him I be all his; 
serve him all my life ; beg the Holy Spirit to come and fill 
all my heart, make it all clean and white like Jesus. Pray 
God to help me learn more of his sweet word. And now, 
Sarah live a poor Indian widow great many long years, and 
always find Jesus friend, husband, brother, all. He make 
me willing to suffer ; willing to live great while in this bad 
world, if he see best ; but above all, he gives me a great 
good hope of glory when I die. So now I wait patient till 
my change come." 

She used to bring bags of sand into the village, and sel 
it for food. Sometimes she brought grapes and other kind, 
of fruit. But as she walked by the way she took little no- 
tice of any thing except children, to whom she sometimes 
gave an affectionate word of exhortation to be good, to pray, 
learn to read God's good word, etc., accompanied with a 
bunch of grapes or an apple. Thus she engaged the affec- 
tion of many a little heart. She seemed absorbed in medi- 
tation as she walked, and was sometimes seen with her 
hands uplifted in the attitude of prayer. One day I asked 
her how she could bring such heavy loads, old as she was, 
and feeble. 

" Oh," said she, " when 1 get a great load, then I go and 
pray God to give me strength to carry it. So I go on, think- 
ing all the way how good God is, to give his only Son to die 
for poor sinner ; think how good Jesus is, to suffer so much 
for such poor creature ; how good the Holy Spirit was, come 
into my bad heart, and make it all new : so these sweet 
thoughts make my mind so full of joy I never think how 
heavy sand be on my old back." 



POOR SARAH. 7 

One excellence in her character was, that she loved the 
house of God ; and often appeared there, when, from bad 
weather or other causes, the seats of others were empty. 
She was early, clean, and whole in her apparel, though it 
was sometimes almost as much diversified with patches as 
the coat of the Shepherd of Salisbury plain. She was very 
old, and quite feeble, yet she generally stood, during public 
service, with eyes riveted on the preacher. I have some- 
times overtaken her on the steps, after service, and said to 
her, " Have you had a good day, Sarah %" " All good, 
sweeter than honey," she would reply. 

In the spring of 1817 it was observed by her friends 
that she did not appear at meeting, as usual, and one of her 
female benefactors asked her the reason ; when she, with 
streaming eyes, told her, tqat her clothes had become so 
old and ragged that she could not come with comfort or 
decency ; but said she had been praying God to provide for 
her a great while, and telling Jesus how much she wanted 
to go to his house of prayer, and expressed a strong desire 
to be resigned and submissive to his will. This was soon 
communicated to a few friends, who promptly furnished this 
suffering member of Christ with a very decent suit of ap- 
parel. This present almost overpowered her grateful heart. 
She received it as from the hand of her heavenly Father 
and kind Redeemer, in answer to her prayer, and said she 
would go and tell Jesus how good his dear people were to 
his poor old creature, and pray her good Father to give 
them a great reward. 

Two of the garments given her she received with every 
mark of joy. On being asked why she set so high a value 
on these, she replied, " Oh, these just what I pray for so 
long, so to lay out my poor old body clean and decent, like 
God's dear white people, when I die." These she requested 
a friend to keep for her, fearing to carry them home, lest 
they should be taken from her. She was, however, per- 
suaded to wear one of them to meeting, upon condition that 
if she injured that another should be provided ; the other 



8 POOR SARAH. 

was preserved by her friend, and made use of at her death. 
An aged female, who gave her one of these garments, says, 
she never saw any body so grateful : " Sarah said she could 
not pay me. She wondered why people were so kind to 
such a poor old creature. She hoped God would reward 
me, and all of them." 

The last visit I had from her was in the summer of 1817. 
She had attended a funeral, and called on me as she re- 
turned. She complained of great weariness, and pain in 
her limbs, and showed me her feet, which were much 
swollen. I inquired the cause : " Oh," said she, with a 
serene smile, " death comes creeping on : I think, in the 
graveyard to-day, Sarah must lie here soon." " Well, are 
you willing to die 1 Do you feel ready V " I think, if my 
bad heart tells true, I am willing to do just as Jesus bids 
me ; if he say, You must die, then I glad to go and be with 
him ; if he say, Live, and suffer a great deal more, I willing. 
I think Jesus know best. Sometimes I get such look ©f 
heaven, I long to go and see Jesus ; see the happy angels, 
see the holy saints ; to throw away my bad heart, lay down 
my old body, and go where no sin be. Then I tell Jesus : 
he say, Sarah, I prepare a place for you, then come take 
you to myself. Then I be quiet like a child, don't want to 
go till he call me." Much more she said upon this interest- 
ing subject, which indicated a soul ripe for heavenly glories. 
When we parted, I thought it very doubtful whether we 
ever met again below. In the course of three weeks from 
this time, I heard that Sarah was removed to a better world. 



Note. — The subject of this narrative lived in the eastern 
part of Connecticut : her hut was in a retired spot near a pond, 
a beautiful sheet of water, which it overlooked from the north- 
west ; and was at about an equal distance from the meeting- 
houses of Tolland and Ellington. It was impossible to put 
down her words exactly as spoken, but the selise is always 
retained, and generally the exact expressions. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



I¥o. 129, 

THE 



TWO APPREITICES 

A DIALOGUE. 



John and Thomas were fellow-apprentices. Thomas 
was a serious, intelligent, and amiable youth, who had been 
religiously educated under a pious uncle. John had more 
vivacity and quickness, both of wit and temper, and was too 
much disposed to be, what is called unlucky, but which is, 
in fact, wicked : he had seen nothing at his father's house 
but a jovial and merry life. 

Their employer was a worthy and honest man, and 
sometimes went to church ; but did not concern himself 
about the religion of his family. He had no objection to 
the seriousness of Thomas, nor the levity of John, if they 
but attended to their business. 

Every Sabbath, both the boys went home to their respec- 
tive friends, and spent the day as they had been accustomed. 
Thomas went to church with his uncle, and when they 
returned he read the Scriptures and other religious books. 
But John generally spent the Sabbath mornings in rambling 
about the fields — sometimes birdsnesting, blackberrying, or 
fishing, as opportunity served ; and his afternoons and even- 
ings were commonly spent in indolence and sport, or in 
foolish talking and jesting in his father's family. 

As they met on Monday morning, John was proud to 
relate his exploits and adventures ; and Thomas, to whom 
they were always disagreeable, seldom failed to reprove or 
to admonish him. On one Sabbath, John had been highly 
entertained by a strolling player, who had gained admission 
to his father's table, and greatly diverted them with jesting 
upon the Bible. This profane ridicule John mistook for wit, 
as young people are too apt to do, and thought it would 
furnish him with excellent weapons to attack Thomas, and 
overturn his principles. Monday came, and John soon found 
an opportunity to commence his assault, as follows : 

John. Well, Thomas, what was the parson's text yes- 
terday ? 

Thomas. John, his text was, " Good is the word of the 
Lord wMch he hath spoken." What think you of it ? 
vol. iv. 24* 



2 THE TWO APPRENTICES. 

J. Think ! why, I wonder at your believing such stories 
as your Bible contains, to be the word of God. 

T. Why, what do you think of the Bible ? 

J. That it is a gross imposition on mankind ; the con- 
trivance of knaves and hypocrites. 

T. What does it teach ? 

J. You best know that. 

T. Does it teach wickedness or goodness ? 

J. Oh, it teaches many good things, to be sure. 

T. Does it teach any evil ones ? 

J. Not that I know of. 

T. Did you ever know any person made wicked by 
reading and studying the Bible ? 

J. No. But did you ever know any made better by it? 

T. Yes, surely. Farmer Newman used to swear, and 
lie, and cheat his neighbors ; but now he prays, and reads, 
and loves his Bible ; every body admires the alteration. So 
Ralph, the wagoner, used to get drunk, and quarrel, and 
beat his wife, and starve his children ; but now he is one 
of the best of husbands and of fathers, and a very sober, 
good man. I could tell you of many other instances. Can 
you deny them ? 

J. I have heard such things ; but what have they to do 
with the subject we were talking of? 

T. I'll tell you, John. You say the Bible was written 
by bad men, knaves and hypocrites. Now, then, you 
believe that knaves and hypocrites conspired to write a 
book full of good things, and calculated to make men good 
and honest. 

J. Suppose I allow them to be good men ? 

T. Then you must allow the Bible to be good and true, 
or else you believe that good men unite to cheat the world 
in matters of the greatest importance. But this is not all. 
In rejecting Christianity, you must suppose that twelve 
plain countrymen, the greatest part of whom were fishers, 
undertook to cheat the world with a new religion ; not to 
obtain wealth, or honor, or ease, or power ; but hatred and 
persecution, disgrace and contempt, poverty and stripes, im- 
prisonment and death : that these men travelled over a great 
part of Asia and of Europe, and in spite of the wisdom of 
philosophers, the influence of priests, and the power of 
princes, made innumerable converts, hundreds and thou- 



THE TWO APPRENTICES. 3 

sands of whom gave up every thing ; even life itself, with 
joy and satisfaction, to preserve a good conscience and the 
favor of God ; and yet all the while were knaves, and 
hypocrites, and impostors. Now tell me, John, is not this 
most absurd? 

John was a little confounded with these questions, for he 
did not expect the tables to be turned upon him thus. How- 
ever, after a little recollection, he proceeded : 

J. Truly, Thomas, I did not think you could have 
preached so ; but tell me now, how it is you ascribe such 
wonderful effects and influence to the Bible. I have read 
some of the morals of Seneca and Plutarch, and other hea- 
then philosophers : now, are not these books as good as the 
Bible, without its strange, unaccountable stories ? 

T. Dear John, did you ever know any body reformed 
by them ? What good effect have they had on you ? 

J. Truly, not much, I believe ; but how is that ? 

T. I will tell you, John : it is the most strange of all 
these strange stories, as you call them, that does the busi- 
ness ; I mean that of the birth, life, sufferings, and death, 
resurrection, and ascension of the Son of God. 

J. How so ? 

T. In many respects the heathen taught the same moral 
duties as the Bible, though not so clearly, nor so perfectly ; 
but they wanted the motives to virtue which the Bible alone 
can furnish. It is the love of God, which is the main-spring 
of virtue and morality, and that is revealed only in the Bible. 
Here we learn, that God so loved the world as to give his 
Son for them ; that Jesus Christ loved sinners so as to die 
for them ; and so we learn to love him, because he first 
loved us. Nor is this all. The heathen had a faint hope, 
indeed, of a better world hereafter; but it was all conjecture 
and uncertainty. Now, by the Gospel, " life and immortality 
are brought to light;" and we know that "the sufferings 
of this life are not worthy to be compared with the glory 
which hereafter shall be revealed." 

John was all attention to his discourse, and forgot his 
infidel raillery. Thomas saw he had gained ground, and 
wished to push his advantage further. 

T. My dear John, do you ever think of these things ? 
You know that you must die — is it not very desirable to die 
happy ? 



4 THE TWO APPRENTICES. 

J . Truly ; but is that possible ? How can there be 
happiness' in death? 

T. I wish you had seen my father die. I was very 
young, but I shall never forget his departing wordsT 

J. What were they ? 

T. Oh, I shall never forget them. "Thomas," said he, 
taking me by the hand, while I stood weeping by his bed- 
side — the cold sweat of death was upon him, yet joy and 
happiness glistened in his countenance — " Thomas," said 
he, "love the Bible, study, and revere, and practise it; then 
you will live happy, and die joyfully, as I do." 

Here a pause ensued. A tear stole down the cheek of 
Thomas, and another started in the eye of John. As soon 
as he could recover himself, Thomas said, " I wish you 
would go with me to hear our minister on Sunday next." 
John made no objection, and it was soon agreed. Little 
passed in the week, only John was much more serious than 
common. The Sabbath came, and John went. He had 
seldom been at church, and the scene was almost new to him. 
The congregation was large and attentive ; the minister 
animated and solemn. John was all eye and ear. The 
preacher named his text, " How shall ice escape, if ice neglect 
so great salvation V He described the danger of the sin- 
ner — John trembled. He opened the salvation of the Gos- 
pel — he wept, and hid his face. After service, John went 
home to his father's house ; but it was with an arrow in his 
heart. His father thought him unwell, but he could not 
tell what ailed him. He returned sooner than common to 
his employer's, in order to meet with Thomas, and unbosom 
his mind to him. Thomas had a sympathizing heart, and 
while he rejoiced in the conviction of his companion, en- 
deavored to point him to Christ, as the only way of salvation. 
John could now jest with religion no more. The infidel 
prejudices he had acquired vanished like the vapors before 
the rising sun. He could no more question the character 
of Christ, because he felt his need of him. He could no 
more despise the Scriptures, because they were his daily food. 
In short, he became an eminent instance of converting grace. 

Through the remaining period of their apprenticeship, 
they took sweet counsel together, and walked to the house 
of God in company. 

TUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 130. 



THEATEICAL EXHIBITIONS. 



The theatre is an amusement which occupies much of 
the time and attention of multitudes in our large cities and 
populous towns; and, unhappily, attendance on this place 
of resort is not by any means confined to such as are com- 
monly called the dissipated and licentious. Many sober 
citizens think themselves justified in appearing within its 
walls ; and even some professed Christians are seen in that 
school of vice and debauchery ; and a few of them openly 
and systematically attempt to vindicate the practice. How 
this has happened, it may be a point of some difficulty to 
ascertain ; for nothing is more certain than that the ancient 
pagans always condemned theatrical exhibitions, as immoral 
in their character, and as utterly improper to be counte- 
nanced by the virtuous and decent part of the community. 
And it is equally certain that the Christian church, in all 
ages in which even a tolerable adherence to Christian prin- 
ciple was maintained, has still more pointedly condemned 
and denounced them. Nay, in early times, all who fre- 
quented the theatre were excluded from the communion of 
the church, without respect of persons. 

But, by some strange concurrence of circumstances, this 
evil, criminal and pestiferous as it evidently is, has crept, 
under a sort of disguise, into the Church of Christ ; and has 
come to be considered by many, as an amusement lawful 
for Christians ! With respect to most other sins which we 
are in the habit of reproving, they are freely and generally 
acknowledged to be such ; and when any of those who be- 
long to the communion of our churches fall into them, they 



2 THEATRICAL EXHIBITIONS. 

are dealt with as the circumstances may require. But we 
have here the strange phenomenon of a great and crying 
sin, which some professed Christians not only indulge, but 
which they openly endeavor to justify; to which they freely 
introduce their children; and, as if this were not enough, 
in behalf of which they take serious offence when the min- 
isters of Christ speak of it in the terms which it deserves. 
Rely upon it, reader, this practice will not stand the test of 
examination. It is corrupt and indefensible throughout; 
and the more speedily you become convinced of this, and 
act accordingly, the better will it be for yourself, and the 
better for society. 

Fellow-mortal, be persuaded to attend seriously to this 
subject. Turn not away from it. It is a most important 
concern. And if there be in the practice in question all that 
evil which there may be demonstrated to be, it certainly 
will not alleviate the load of your guilt to be obliged to say, 
that, though warned, you refused to consider the subject. 

Theatrical exhibitions, then, may be shown to be crimi- 
nal, and productive of much evil, in a great variety of re- 
spects. Bear with a sincere friend to your temporal and 
eternal happiness, while he endeavors, with all plainness 
and fidelity, to state them. And, 

I. To attend the theatre is a criminal waste of time. 
You will not dare to deny, that every moment of your time 
is given you by the great Author of life ; and that you must 
render an account to Him for the manner in which you 
spend it. Neither will you deny that life is short; that 
there is much important work to be done ; and that no one 
can be sure that he has another day or hour to live. To 
creatures situated as we are, every hour that passes over us 
must be incalculably, nay, infinitely momentous ; because 
we know not but there may be suspended upon it the des- 
tiny of our immortal souls, and all the never-dying interests 
of eternity. Placed in circumstances so solemn as these, 
can any rational, conscientious man consent to sit for a num- 



THEATRICAL EXHIBITIONS. 3 

ber of hours in a playhouse, attending to amusements which, 
to say the least of them, are as perfectly vain and frivolous 
as they can be ? Can you appeal to the great Searcher of 
hearts, and say that you think this is right ? Can you say 
that it is acting as an accountable and dying creature ought 
to act ? No ; the most determined advocate of the theatre 
that lives, would not dare to say this. He would be shocked 
at the thought of seriously adopting such a principle. Either, 
then, the scriptural precept to redeem time, and the scriptural 
rules for disposing of time, must be utterly rejected, or the- 
atrical amusements must be pronounced criminal. Either 
men are not accountable for the manner in which they spend 
their time, and are not bound to devote it to the glory of God 
and the promotion of their own moral and spiritual benefit, 
or it is a grievous sin to squander precious hours in an 
amusement, of which the lightest censure that can possibly 
be passed upon it is, that it is wholly unprofitable. 

II. But we may go further. Theatrical entertainments 
are not merely unprofitable — not merely a criminal waste 
of time — but they also directly tend to dissipate the mind, 
and destroy all taste for serious and spiritual employments. 
Let me appeal to the experience of those who have been in 
the habit of attending the theatre, whether this amusement 
is not strongly unfavorable to every thing like a religious 
frame of mind ? When you return from the playhouse, af- 
ter witnessing the most decent play that was ever exhibited, 
have you any taste for prayer, for reading the Scriptures, 
or holding communion with God in any sacred exercise 1 
Is there not something in the sentiments uttered in the the- 
atre, in the scenery displayed, in the dress, attitudes, and 
deportment of the performers, and in the licentious appear- 
ance and libertine conduct of many of the spectators, which 
is calculated, to say the least, to expel all seriousness from 
the mind ; to drive away all thoughts of God, of eternity, 
and of a judgment to come ; and to extinguish all taste for 
spiritual employments ? Need we wait for an answer ? 



4 THEATRICAL EXHIBITIONS. 

Every one, who has the least experience on the subject, 
knows that these things are so. He can bear testimony that 
few things have a more direct tendency to give the mind a 
vain and frivolous cast ; to make it familiar with licentious 
images and objects ; to destroy a taste for devotion ; and to 
banish that spirituality which is at once the duty and hap- 
piness of the Christian. 

And will any man, who means to stand on Christian 
ground, venture to deny that whatever has this tendency 
must be criminal ? That whatever draws off the heart from 
that which is sober, useful, and pious, and inspires it with a 
prevailing taste for the gay, the romantic, the extravagant, 
the sensual, and the impure, cannot but be deeply perni- 
cious ? Alas ! the theatre does not instruct a man how to 
live, how to suffer, how to die. It does not tend to inspire 
those serious, practical sentiments which become one who 
remembers that he may be called to-morrow to quit this 
transient scene. On the contrary, its direct and only ten- 
dency is, to make men forget their duty and their real hap- 
piness, and altogether to beguile the feelings proper for one 
who has no continuing city here, but who ought to be contin- 
ually seeking one to come, whose builder and maker is God. 

III. But what has been said is not the worst. The the- 
atre is now, and ever has been, a school of vice and profli- 
gacy. By far the greater part of the most popular plays, 
though they may, and, doubtless, often do contain many 
good sentiments, yet also contain much that is profane, ob- 
scene, and calculated to pollute the imagination, to inflame 
the passions, and to recommend principles the most corrupt, 
and practices the most pernicious. How common is it to 
find in the language of the theatre the most unqualified pro- 
faneness, and even blasphemy ! How often are mock-prayers 
and irreverent appeals to the Majesty of heaven exhibited on 
the most trivial occasions ! How often is the dialogue inter- 
spersed with such unchaste expressions or allusions as can- 
not but grievously pain the ear of modesty ; and these pro- 



THEATRICAL EXHIBITIONS. 5 

nounced and set forth in a way calculated to give additional 
force to the evil ! Can such exhibitions be innocent ? Are 
they such as a disciple of Christ can witness with safety, 
or encourage with a good conscience ? If they are, then it 
is difficult to say what is criminal, or what may not be 
justified. 

How shall we account for it, then, that decent females, 
who would be shocked at the least approach to obscene lan- 
guage in their presence in private, and who, if it were ut- 
tered, would think their reputation sullied, if not ruined, by 
being found in such company a second time, can yet go 
every week to the theatre, and there listen to such lan- 
guage, and sometimes in very gross forms, without, perhaps, 
a blush, and without the smallest apparent consciousness of 
doing wrong ? However painful the alternative, we must 
necessarily conclude that such females have less real deli- 
cacy, less truly virtuous principle, than they would wish us 
to believe. 

Nor is this the whole of the evil. Of many plays which 
cannot be charged with profaneness or indelicacy of lan- 
guage, the general moral is detestable ; such as no person 
of real virtue, to say nothing of the Christian, can contem- 
plate without abhorrence. Piety and virtue are made to 
appear contemptible ; and vice, in the person of some fa- 
vorite hero, is exhibited as attractive, honorable, and trium- 
phant. Folly and crime have palliative, and even commenda- 
tory names bestowed upon them ; and the extravagance of 
sinful passion is represented as amiable sensibility. Pride, 
revenge, false honor, duelling, suicide, the indulgence of un- 
hallowed love, conjugal infidelity, and making the applause 
of men the governing rule of life, if not openly commended, 
are yet so depicted as to make them appear objects of envy 
rather than of abhorrence. Provided a man be frank, gener- 
ous, and brave, he may be an abandoned libertine, an in- 
vader of conjugal purity, a spendthrift of other men's prop- 
erty, a defrauder of the fatherless and widow, a despiser 
vol. iv. 25 



6 THEATRICAL EXHIBITIONS. 

of God, and a trampler on his laws ; and yet, on the stage, 
may be, and often is, celebrated as the possessor of an ex- 
cellent heart. 

Now, can any man of decent character — above all, can 
any man who professes to be a disciple of Jesus Christ, go 
to a place, or encourage representations, in which sentiments 
such as these are almost continually brought into view, and 
often under the most alluring aspect ? Is this a school to 
which we ought to be willing to introduce our sons and our 
daughters, even if we had no higher aim than to prepare 
them for virtuous, dignified, and useful action in the present 
life ? It is, indeed, as wonderful as it is humiliating, that 
we are driven to the necessity of asking such questions ; 
and still more so, that thousands, who call themselves Chris- 
tians, act as if they might be confidently answered in the 
affirmative ! 

IV. Those who go to the theatre, not only contribute 
to the support of an amusement such as has been represent- 
ed, but also contribute to the encouragement and support of a 
set of licentious play-actors. 

That we ought not to countenance any class of wicked 
persons in their sinful course, or, by any means, to encour- 
age them to continue in it, will be acknowledged by all whr 
believe that there is a difference between right and wrong- 
that there is any such thing as sin. But what are the pre- 
vailing character and lives of players ? Can any one who 
values truth, say that they are commonly, or, indeed, are 
ever, excepting in very rare cases, persons of decent, sober 
character ? He certainly cannot. They are generally a 
licentious, immoral people. And, indeed, from the nature 
of their occupation, it is hardly to be expected that they 
should be otherwise. They are constantly engaged in per- 
sonating different characters, and, perhaps more frequently 
than otherwise, very bad characters ; in other words, a large 
portion of the time of all of them is employed in personating, 
displaying, and recommending vice, which itself, can scarce- 



THEATRICAL. EXHIBITIONS. 7 

ly fail to corrupt their principles and habits. Add to this, 
that the nature of the intercourse which takes place, and 
must take place, between performers on the same stage, 
more particularly between those of different sexes, can 
scarcely fail of corrupting their morals. Were general 
purity, both of principle and of practice, to be maintained 
under circumstances such as these, it would be almost a 
miracle. Accordingly, in all ages and countries, play-actors 
have been generally found triflers, buffoons, sensualists, 
unfit for sober employment, and loose in their morals. It is 
not pretended that there have been no exceptions to this 
character. But the exceptions have been so few, and their 
circumstances so extraordinary, as to confirm rather than 
invalidate the general argument. And is it even true that 
there ever has been a complete exception ? Was there ever 
a player who exhibited a life of steady, exemplary, Christian 
purity and piety ? I never heard of such a character ; and 
until I do, I shall venture to say there never was one. Yet 
this is the profession which all who frequent the theatre 
contribute their share to encourage and support. They 
give their presence, their influence, and their money, for the 
maintenance of a class of persons whose business it is, directly 
or indirectly, to recommend error and crime, to corrupt our 
children, and to counteract whatever the friends of religion 
and good morals are striving to accomplish for the benefit 
of society. 

If this representation be just ; if attending on the the- 
atre is a criminal waste of time ; if it tends to dissipate the 
mind, and to render it indisposed for all sober, useful, or 
spiritual employments ; if hardly any man living would 
dare to retire, and, upon his knees, ask the blessing of God 
upon it before he went, or implore the sanctified use of it 
after he returned ; if theatrical exhibitions are often — very 
often — indecent and profane, and always demoralizing in 
their tendency ; and if their patrons, by every attendance 
upon them, encourage and support sin as a trade ; then, I 



Q THEATRICAL EXHIBITIONS. 

ask, can any man who claims to be barely moral — placing 
piety out of the question — can any man who claims to be 
barely moral, conscientiously countenance such a seminary 
of vice ? Especially, can a disciple of Jesus Christ, who 
professes to be governed by the spirit, and to imitate the ex- 
ample of his Divine Master ; who is commanded to " live 
soberly, righteously, and godly in this present evil world ;" 
who is warned to have " no fellowship with the unfruitful 
works of darkness, but rather to reprove them ;" who is 
required to " crucify the flesh, with the affections and lusts ;" 
and " whether he eats or drinks, or whatsoever he does, to 
do all to the glory of God :" can a disciple of Christ, I say, 
who is commanded to " shun the company of the profane," 
to " avoid the " very " appearance of evil," and to pray, 
" Lead us not into temptation " — can he be found in such 
a place without sin ; without polluting his conscience, tar- 
nishing his profession, and offending his God ? I would fain 
hope that no one could hesitate a moment as to the answer 
which ought to be given to this question. 

Perhaps some will consider this as taking an unnecessa- 
rily strict, and even puritanical view of the theatre, as an 
amusement. This is so far from being the case, that the 
sentiments which have been expressed, are those in which 
the wise and the virtuous, in all ages, have been entirely 
unanimous, even from the origin of the practice. As was 
intimated in the first page, all the sober Pagans pronounced 
the theatre a school of vice. Plato tells us, that " plays 
raise the passions, and pervert the use of them ; and, of 
consequence, are dangerous to morality." Aristotle lays it 
down as a rule, " that the seeing of comedies ought to be 
forbidden to young people ; such indulgences not being 
safe, until age and discipline have confirmed them in sobri- 
ety, fortified their virtue, and made them proof against de- 
bauchery." And even Ovid, in his most licentious poems, 
speaks of the theatre as favorable to dissoluteness of prin- 
ciple and manners ; and afterwards, in a graver work, ad- 



THEATRICAL EXHIBITIONS. 9 

dressed to Augustus, advises the suppression of this amuse- 
ment, as being a grand source of corruption. 

In the primitive Church, too, as has been already hinted, 
both the players and those who attended the theatre were 
debarred from the Christian sacraments. All the early 
writers who speak on the subject, with one voice attest that 
this was the case. And some of them, as well as some of 
the early synods and councils, employ language, in refer- 
ence to this amusement and the class of people who con- 
duct it, expressive of the strongest abhorrence. Not only 
players were excluded from the privileges of the Church, 
but also all who intermarried with them, or in anywise 
openly encouraged them ; thereby declaring that they con- 
sidered the whole institution, in all its connections and influ- 
ences, as altogether pernicious, and to be detested. 

And almost all the reformed churches have, at different 
times, spoken the same language, and enacted regulations 
of a similar kind. They have declared it to be " unlawful 
to go to comedies, tragedies, interludes, farces, or other stage- 
plays, acted in public or private ; because, in all ages, these 
have been forbidden among Christians, as bringing in a cor- 
ruption of good manners." Surely, this remarkable concur- 
rence of opinion, in different ages and countries, ought to 
command the most serious attention of those who wish to 
know what is their duty. 

To these authorities it may be of use to add the judg- 
ment of a few conspicuous individuals, of different characters 
and situations, all of whom were well qualified to decide on 
the subject : individuals, not of austere or illiberal minds, 
and who have never been charged with the desire of con- 
tracting, to an unreasonable degree, the limits of public or 
private amusement. 

Archbishop Tillotson, after some pointed and forcible 

reasoning against it, pronounces the playhouse to be "the 

devil's chapel;" "a nursery of licentiousness and vice;" 

" a recreation which ought not to be allowed among a civil- 

VOL. iv. 25* 



10 THEATRICAL EXHIBITIONS. 

ized, much less a Christian people." Bishop Collier solemnly 
declares, that he was persuaded " nothing had done more to 
debauch the age in which he lived, than the stage-poets and 
the playhouse." Lord Chief Justice Hale informs us, that 
when he was a youth at college, the players visiting Oxford, 
he was so much corrupted by frequenting the theatre, that, 
for some months, he almost wholly forsook his studies. By 
this habit he not only lost much time, but also found his 
mind filled with so many " vain images" and " false senti- 
ments" that he began to be alarmed for himself, and deter- 
mined to abandon a course which he saw was leading him 
to ruin. On going to London, he resolved never to see a 
play again ; and rigidly adhered to his resolution. Even 
the infidel philosopher, Rousseau, declared himself to be of 
the opinion that the theatre is, in all cases, a school of vice. 
Though he had himself written for the stage, yet, when it 
was proposed to establish a theatre in the city of Geneva, he 
wrote against the project with zeal and great force, and ex- 
pressed the opinion, that every friend of pure morals ought 
to oppose it. 

After this amount of reasoning and of testimony against 
the theatre, is it possible that any, who are not determined 
to set at defiance all considerations of duty, can hesitate a 
moment ? Even if one-half of what has been said of this 
amusement be true, then every father of a family — every 
good citizen — every friend to social order and happiness, 
ought to set his face against it as a flint, and to discounte- 
nance it by all fair and lawful means. But, reader, if you 
call yourself a Christian, or have any desire worthily to bear 
that hallowed name, can you ever again be seen within the 
walls of a theatre ? Can you ever willingly permit any one 
over whom you have any influence to be seen there ? Say 
not, that the habits of society are such that you can scarcely 
avoid it. The question is short. Will you obey God, or 
man ? Will you timidly or meanly give way to that which 
you must acknowledge to be wicked ? or will you dare to 



THEATRICAL EXHIBITIONS. U 

do what is right, though all the world were against you ? 
Will you take the Scriptures, or the maxims of a corrupt 
world, for your guide ? The question is left with your con- 
science in the sight of God. 

Attendant on the theatre, whoever you are, if the fore- 
going representations be correct, then your conduct carries 
with it a degree of guilt which ought, surely, to alarm you. 
Every time you go to that scene of temptation and vice, you 
sin against your family, if you have any, against the purity 
and order of civil society, and against God, as well as against 
your own soul. Can you think of this, and still go with a 
quiet conscience 1 How will this subject, think you, appear 
in a dying hour ? It is related of the late Rev. Mr. Hervey, 
a well-known and eminently pious divine of England, tha't 
being once on a journey in a stage-coach, the theatre became 
the topic of conversation. A lady in company, who was 
much attached to this amusement, expatiated largely on the 
pleasures attending it. She observed, that she found much 
pleasure in anticipating the performance, much in witness- 
ing it, and much in recollecting and conversing upon it 
afterwards. Mr. Hervey listened with respectful attention, 
and, when she had done, said, " Madam, there is one pleas- 
ure growing out of the theatre which you have omitted to 
mention." Delighted to think of her opinion being confirmed 
by a person of his respectable appearance, she asked him 
with eagerness to what he referred. " Madam," said he, 
gravely, " I refer to the pleasure which the remembrance of 
having, attended on the theatre will give you on a dying bed !" 
This seasonable remark proved better than a thousand argu- 
ments. It made a deep and permanent impression. The 
lady never again went to the theatre, and became eminently 
pious. Every lover and frequenter of the theatre will soon 
lie upon a sick and dying bed. How will the amusement 
then appear ? How will the remembrance of having yielded 
to its allurements then lie on the conscience ? Think of 
that hour, and be wise in time ! 



12 THEATRICAL EXHIBITIONS. 

Attendant on the theatre, did you ever hear of that aw- 
ful catastrophe which caused the tears of so many to flow, 
a few years since, in one of our cities — when a theatre, in 
the midst of its performances, and unusually crowded, was 
destroyed by fire — and seventy-five persons perished in the 
flames ? Did you ever hear of that heart-rending scene 1 
Did you ever try to image to yourself how you would 
have felt, if you had been there ? Think of a theatre in 
flames ! and ask whether you would be willing to meet 
death in a playhouse — to pass, as it were in a moment, 
from all the polluted vanities of such company, and such a 
scene, to the immediate presence of a holy God. How tre- 
mendous the thought ! yet no one can tell that a like calam- 
ity may not happen at any time when he allows himself 
to be present in such a place. But, fellow-mortal, if you 
never should see a theatre in flames, you will see a world 
in flames, and a holy Judge descending to his " great white 
throne;" and "the heavens and the earth passing away, so 
that there shall be no place found for them." And you shall 
see " many great men, and rich men, and mighty men, hid- 
ing themselves in the dens, and in the rocks of the moun- 
tains ; saying to the mountains and rocks, Fall upon us, and 
hide us from the face of him that sitteth on the throne, and 
from the wrath of the Lamb ; for the great day of his wrath 
is come, and who shall be able to stand ?" Will attendance 
on the theatre, think you, be a means of preparing any man 
to meet that Judge, and to stand the trial of that great day ? 
May God, of his infinite mercy, open the eyes and turn 
the hearts of infatuated men, that they may see their folly 
and danger before it be for ever too late ! 



No. 131 



WALKING BY FAITH. 



BY REV. ANDREW FULLER. 



Walking by Faith, is going forward in the ways of 
godliness, as influenced, not by sensible, but invisible objects ; 
objects of the reality of which we have no evidence but the 
testimony of God. 

In this sense we find the term faith used in Hebrews 
11, concerning Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, and others. 
Thus Abel, by faith, offered a more excellent offering than 
Cain. God had said in effect, once for all, that he would 
never speak nor be spoken to in a way of friendship by 
any of the, human race, but through a Mediator. This was 
intimated, partly by man's being debarred from all access to 
the tree of life, partly by the promise of the woman's seed, 
and partly by the institution of sacrifices. Cain overlooked 
all this, and approached God without an expiatory sacrifice, 
as if there had been no breach between them, and so no need 
of an atonement. This was an instance of daring unbelief. 
Abel, on the contrary, took God at his word, perceived the 
evil of sin, and the awful breach made by it — dared not to 
bring an offering without a victim for atonement — had re- 
spect to the promised Messiah — and thus, by faith in the 
unseen Lamb, offered a more excellent offering than Cain. 

Thus also it is said of Noah, " By faith, he, being warned 
of God of things not seen as yet, moved with fear, prepared 
an ark to the saving of his house, by which he condemned 
the world," etc. No doubt the world were ready to despise 
Noah, while building his ark, as an enthusiastic old man, 



2 WALKING BY FAITH. 

that put himself to a deal of trouble, and wanted to put other 
people to as much, merely through a notion that ran in his 
head, that the world should be drowned. Why, was there 
any thing in the world that looked like it, or seemed to por- 
tend such an event ? Nothing at all ; all things seemed to 
continue as they were from the creation. What then could 
induce Noah to do as he did? Nothing but the testimony 
of God, which he credited, and acted accordingly. 

So likewise it is said of Abraham, when called to go into 
another country, "By faith he obeyed, and went out, not 
knowing whither he went." A pretty errand, it would seem 
to his friends and neighbors. It is possible some of these, 
observing him preparing for a journey, might inquire whither 
he was going. " Going ! I am going to a land which ' the 
Lord is to show me.' " " And have you ever seen this 
land?" "No; I neither know the country, nor a step of 
the way to it." " A fine tale, indeed ! but seriously, what 
in the world can move you to such an undertaking ?" " I 
rely upon the testimony of God. He hath said, ' Get thee 
out of thy country, and from thy kindred, unto a land that I 
will show thee.' I take him at his word, and act accord- 
ingly." 

These were cases in point for the apostle to quote. The 
Hebrews seemed hardly contented with an unseen high priest, 
an invisible religion. They had been used to priests and 
sacrifices that they could hear and see and handle, with 
their bodily senses. As their fathers said of Moses, there- 
fore, they were ready to say of Jesus, " We know not where 
he is gone. Come, let us make us a captain, and return to 
Judaism." "Judaism!" says the apostle, " methinks true 
Judaism would condemn you. All your forefathers acted 
upon a principle which you seem about to abandon. They 
walked by faith, not by sight. They lived, they died in 
the faith, even in the faith of that very Messiah of whom 
you make so light." 

In this sense it is easy to see faith and sight are to be 



WALKING BY FAITH. *JJ 

taken in our Lord's rebuke to Thomas, when he says, 
" Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have be- 
lieved." It is as if he had said, "You think you have 
acted very prudently ; but what must the Christian world 
do in after-ages, if they act upon your principle ? Chris- 
tianity, in the whole of it, will depend upon testimony — 
whoever receives it after your death, yea, in your lifetime, 
besides yourselves, must receive it upon your testimony. 
Blessed are they who shall cordially so receive it; and 
blessed had you been, Thomas, to have set them the example, 
by believing the testimony of your brethren." 

Faith may also be considered as opposed to the discov- 
eries of mere reason, unassisted by revelation. We do not 
suppose faith and right reason to be opposites : that be far 
from us. On the contrary, nothing is more evident than that 
Christianity is entirely a rational system ; and it is its glory 
that it is so. We should never have been required to give 
a reason for the hope that is in us, if there had been no rea- 
son to be given. But though nothing in revelation be contrary 
to right reason, yet there are many things which our reason 
could never have found out, had they not been made known 
by the Supreme Intelligence. The plan of redemption by 
Jesus Christ, in particular, contains a set of truths which the 
eye had never seen, nor the ear heard, nor had they entered 
the heart of man, had not God revealed them to us by his 
Spirit. For all the pleasure that we enjoy, brethren, in con- 
templating these glorious truths, we are wholly beholden to 
the testimony of God. Indeed, so far are they from being 
discoverable by mere reason, that every blessing contains in 
it abundantly more than men or angels could have asked, or 
thought. It staggers our reason to receive it, even now it is 
told us. At every pause we must stand and wonder, say- 
ing, " Is this the manner of man, O Lord Jehovah V\ 

Not only was our reason incapable of finding out many 
truths before they were revealed, but even now they are re- 
vealed, they contain things above our comprehension. It is 



4 WALKING BY FAITH. 

one thing to say Scripture is contrary to right reason, and 
another thing to say it may exhibit truths 'too great for our 
reason to grasp. God must have told us nothing about his 
own existence and infinite perfections, if he had told us 
nothing but what we could comprehend. In this case it be- 
comes us to know our littleness, and bow our understandings 
to the Supreme Intelligence. It is the most rational thing in 
the world so to do. If God has said any thing, we ought to 
rest assured that so it is. In these cases we ought to trust 
his eyes, so to speak, rather than our own, and be content to 
" walk by faith, and not by sight." 

But that we may obtain a more comprehensive view of 

WHAT IT IS FOR THE CHRISTIAN TO WALK BY FAITH, let US 

contemplate some of those circumstances and situations through 
which he has to pass during the present life. It is in these 
that faith, as well as every other grace, is exercised. 

1. There are many dark seasons in God's providential 
dealings with us, in which we can see no way of escape, 
nor find any source of comfort, but the testimony of God. 
God's friends are not distinguished in this world by any 
exemption from trying providences : he views that, me- 
thinks, as too trifling a badge of distinction. They shall 
be known by what is far more noble and advantageous, 
namely, by patience, obedience, submission, and divine sup- 
port under them. Moreover, as we profess to be friends of 
God, and to trust the salvation of our souls, with all our 
concerns, in his hands, he sees it proper to prove the sin- 
cerity of our professions, and the stability of our hearts. 
He brings us into such circumstances, therefore, as shall 
try us, and show whether we will confide in him or not. 

Christ has told his followers, once for all, that " all 
power in heaven and earth is in his hands;" that he is 
"head over all things to the church ;" that he " will surely 
do them good;" that, however things may seem, "all things 
work together for good to them that love God, and are the 



WALKING BY FAITH. 5 

called according to his purpose ;" that, as to temporal things, 
let them but " trust in the Lord, and do good, and they shall 
dwell in the land, and verily they shall be fed;" and as to 
eternal things, if they have a few light afflictions, they 
" shall last but as for a moment, and shall work for them a 
far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." Matt. 
28 : 18 ; Eph. 1 : 22 ; Gen. 32 : 12 ; Rom. 8 : 28 ; Psal. 
37:3; 2 Cor. 4: 17. 

These promises seem easy to be believed when things 
go smooth and pleasing ; and it is very natural for us, in a 
day of prosperity, to talk of these things, and try to com- 
fort those with them who are laboring in adversity. But. 
the greatest trial is when it comes home to ourselves. 
Then it is well, if we fall not under the reproof of Eliphaz : 
■ Thy words have upholdcn him that was falling, and thou 
hast strengthened the feeble knees ; but now it is come upon 
thee, and thou faintest; it toucheth thee, and thou art 
troubled." Job 4 : 4, 5. 

How amiable is that spirit, how happy is that heart, 
which in every situation places unbounded confidence in 
Jehovah's word. Such may be hedged up on every side, 
and encompassed, like Israel at the Red Sea, with seem- 
ingly insurmountable difficulties ; yet even here they will 
follow Israel's example ; they will cry unto God, and rely 
upon his mercy. If means can be used, they will use 
them ; if not, they will " stand still and see the salvation 
of the Lord." "Speak unto the children of Israel," said 
the Lord, " that they go forward !" Go forward ! they 
might have replied ; what ! plunge ourselves into the sea ? 
Go forward ! what ! leap at once into the jaws of destruc- 
tion? But nothing of this. At first, indeed, their faith 
seemed to fail them, but they soon recovered themselves. 
" Speak unto the children of Israel," said the Lord, " that 
they go forward." They went: a way was made in the 
sea, and a path in the mighty waters. Well may it be 
said, " By faith Israel uassed through the Red Sea !" 
vol. iv. 26 



6 WALKING BV FAITH. 

Heb. 11 : 29. Minds thus disposed, might defy the united 
sources of worldly sorrow to render them unhappy. Let 
poverty stare them in the face, let pinching want stretch 
over them her miserable sceptre ; they have been known 
even here by faith to break forth into songs of praise. 
Thus sang good Habakkuk : " Although the fig-tree shall 
not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vine ; the labor of 
the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat ; the 
flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no 
herd in the stalls ; yet will I rejoice in the Lord, 1 will joy 
in the God of my salvation." Thus also sang the church, 
even in her captivity, when her country was laid waste, Je- 
rusalem razed to the ground, and the temple burnt to ashes : 
" The Lord is my portion, saith my soul, therefore will I 
'hope in him !" Lam. 3 : 24. 

2. In all our approaches to Christ and fellowship with 
Mm, it is by faith in the account that God hath given of 
him in his word. Christ's excellence, undertaking, and ben- 
efits, are the joy, and even the life of our souls, if we are 
true Christians. But what evidence have we of all or any 
of these ? Yea, what evidence have we that there is, or 
ever was, such a person as Jesus Christ ; 6r, if there was, 
that he was the Messiah, the Son of God ? We neither saw 
him live, nor die, nor rise again, nor ascend to heaven. We 
never saw the miracles he wrought, nor heard the voice 
from the excellent glory, saying, " This is my beloved Son, 
hear him." We speak of his personal excellencies, divine 
and human, of his love, zeal, righteousness, meekness, pa- 
tience, etc. ; but what know we of them ? We rejoice in 
his being constituted our Surety to obey the law, and endure 
the curse in our stead ; but how know we that so indeed it 
is ? We glory in the imputation of his righteousness, and 
exult in the hope of being found in him, and being for ever 
with him, faultless before his throne, to serve him day and 
night in his temple ; but on what do we rely for all this ? 
If our expectations are but just, truly they are noble ; but 



WALKING BY FAITH. 7 

if groundless, extravagant. Are they, then, well founded ? 
Yes, the testimony of God is the rock whereon they rest. 
He has told us, by the mouth of his servants, the inspired 
writers, all that is necessary for us to know of the character, 
conduct, and errand of his Son ; of every office he sustained, 
and every end for which he came into the world. To all 
this he has added, that, " Whosoever believeth on him shall 
not perish, but have everlasting life." John 3 : 16. So they 
preached, and so we have believed. We have, through grace, 
ventured our everlasting all in his hands, nor is it in the 
hands of we know not whom. " We know whom we have 
trusted, and that he is able to keep that which we have 
committed to him against that day." 2 Tim. 1 : 12. For, 
though none of these things are visible to our mortal eyes, 
yet, having evidence that God hath said them, we are satis- 
fied. We would as soon trust God's word as our own eyes. 
Thus we walk, like Moses, as seeing him who is invisible, 
and thus answer to that description, " Whom, having not 
seen, ye love ; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet 
believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of 
glory." 1 Pet. 1:8. 

In all our applications to Christ, we have to rely merely 
upon the testimony of God. Here is a poor, self-condemn- 
ed sinner comes pressing through the crowd of discourag- 
ing apprehensions, that he may touch the hem of the Re- 
deemer's garment, so to speak, and be made whole. As 
he approaches, one set of thoughts suggests, How can so 
great a sinner hope for mercy ? Is it not doubtful whether 
there be efficacy enough in the blood of Christ itself to pardon 
such heinous crimes ? "I know my crimes are heinous be- 
yond expression," replies the burdened soul, "and I should 
doubtless give up my case as desperate, but that I have 
heard of him that < he is able to save to the uttermost all 
them that come unto God by him.' Heb. 8 : 25. I will 
go, therefore ; who can tell ?" As he goes, other objections 
assail him, questioning whether Christ can find in his heart 



8 WALKING BY FAITH. 

to accept of such a one ? "I should think not, indeed," 
rejoins the poor man ; " but he hath said, Him that cometh 
iinto me, I will in no wise cast out. I know, were I to con- 
sult nothing but my feelings, and only to fix my eyes on 
the enormity of my sins, I should utterly despair ; but, en- 
couraged by his word, I will go forward. I will walk by 
faith, not by sight. O hear him say, ' Come unto me, all 
ye that labor, and are heavy laden, and ye shall find rest 
unto your souls !' This, this is what I want ! Depart from 
me, all ye that vex my soul ; I will go in the strength of 
the Lord God !" 

3. We have to give up many present enjoyments for 
Christ's sake, ivherein we have no visible prospect of recom- 
pense, none of any kind, but what arises from the promise 
of God. Self-denial is one of the initial laws of Christ's 
kingdom. Far from enticing people into his service by 
promises of wealth, ease, and honor, he set out with this 
public declaration : " Whosoever will be my disciple, must 
deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me." Matt. 
16 : 24. But who would enter upon these terms ? who 
would give up houses, lands, friends, and reputation, and 
expose himself to hardships, persecution, and death, for 
nothing ? Yet many followed him, and that to the day of 
their death ; yea, and upon these very terms, too : they left 
all, and followed him. What then induced them ? Did 
not they act irrationally ? Prophets, apostles, and martyrs ! 
what mean ye ? have ye no regard for yourselves ? what ! 
are you destitute of the feelings of men ? " No such thing — 
we have respect unto the recompense of reward." Reward ! 
— what can that be? Nothing surely below the sun, unless 
it were every thing the reverse of what is agreeable to hu- 
man nature ! " True ; but our Lord has declared, ' Who- 
soever shall forsake houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, 
or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, 
shall receive a hundred fold, and inherit everlasting life.' 
Matt. 19 : 29. We rely upon this, and this supports us." 



WALKING BY FAITH. 9 

God's friends, in all ages, have forsaken sensible for 
invisible enjoyments. Encouraged by considerations like 
these, Ruth forsook her father and her mother, and the 
land of her nativity, and came to a people whom she knew 
not. It was this that determined her to go forward, when, 
as Naomi told her, there were no earthly prospects before 
her. It was this that made her resolve not to go back with 
Orpah, but to cast in her lot with the friends of the God 
of Israel. " The Lord recompense thy work," said Boaz 
to her afterward, " and a full reward be given thee of the 
Lord God of Israel, under whose wings thou art come to 
trust!" Ruth 2: 11, 12. 

The same things influenced Moses, it seems, to refuse a 
crown. It has been thought, that, in virtue of his adoption, 
he might have been king of Egypt; but that throne not 
only, like other thrones, exposed him that sat thereon to 
numberless snares, but probably was inaccessible to any but 
those who would continue the system of idolatry and oppres- 
sion. In that case, for Moses to have been king of Egypt, 
must have been to have sacrificed a good conscience, de- 
spised a crown of glory that fadeth not away, and united in 
persecuting his own and the Lord's people. Moses seems 
fully to have weighed this matter. The result was, he 
" refused to be called the Son of Pharaoh's daughter, choos- 
ing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God than 
to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season ; esteeming even 
the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of 
Egypt." He freely, therefore, leaves the life of a courtier, 
avows himself the friend of the poor despised captives, and 
dares to retire into Midian to live the life of an obscure 
shepherd. I say he dared to retire ; for it required a 
greater degree of fortitude thus to deny himself, than to 
stand in the front of the hottest battle. But by faith he for- 
sook Egypt, and went and lived a stranger in a strange land, 
for he endured as seeing him who is invisible — yes, " he had 
respect unto the recompense of reward." Heb. 11 : 24-27. 
vol. iv. 26* 



10 WALKING BY FAITH. 

Through faith, the holy tribes of martyrs, in all ages, 
loved not their lives unto death. By faith in invisible reali- 
ties, as the apostle to the Hebrews largely proves, they bore 
all manner of cruelties, not accepting deliverance itself upon 
dishonorable conditions ; suffered all kinds of deaths with 
unremitting fortitude, and, in some sort, like their glorious 
Leader, triumphed over principalities and powers when they 
fell. 

Indeed, every man in the world may be said to walk 
either by faith, or by sight. There is not only a giving up 
sensible for invisible enjoyments by actually parting with 
them, but by not setting our hearts upon them as our chief 
good. This may be done where there is no call actually to 
give them up, and is done by all real Christians in the world. 
Men whose chief good consists in the profits, pleasures, or 
honors of this life, live by sight: they derive their life from 
objects before their eyes, having neither patience nor incli- 
nation to wait for a portion in the world to come. But good 
men, as well the rich as the poor, derive their life from 
above, and so live by faith : their " life is hid with Christ 
in God." Col. 3:3. 

Perhaps here, as much as anywhere, is required the 
peculiar exercise of faith. For one actually divested of 
earthly good to took upward, and set his heart on things 
above, is faith ; but for one still possessed of this, one on 
whom Providence smiles, prospering him in all he sets his 
hand to, blessing him with wife and children, houses and 
lands in abundance ; for him to exercise such a degree of 
indifference to all these, lis to derive his chief happiness 
from invisible realities, this is faith indeed ! This seems to 
have been exemplified in Abraham, and others of the patri- 
archs. Of him it is said, " By faith he sojourned in the 
land of promise, as in a strange country." Heb. 11:9, 10, 
13, 14, 16. How is this 1 . We do not wonder, when he 
and Sarah went into Egypt on account of a famine, that he 
should consider himself a sojourner there, Gen. 12:11; but 



WALKING BY FAITH. 1 \ 

how is it that he should do so in Canaan, the land of prom- 
ise, his own estate as it were ? The next verse informs us : 
" for he looked for a city which hath foundations, whose 
builder and maker is God." So Jacob, when before Pha- 
raoh, called his whole life a pilgrimage, Gen. 47 : 9, though 
the far greater part of it was spent in the land of promise ; 
and " they that say such things," adds the apostle, "declare 
plainly that they seek a country." Though God had given 
them the good land, they would not make it their chief good. 
They could not be contented with this Canaan, but longed 
for another. Noble souls ! bid them lift up their eyes east- 
ward, and westward, and northward, and southward, and 
tell them, all they can see is their own ; still, they will not 
live by sight, but by faith: they will " desire a better coun- 
try, that is, a heavenly." 

4. Our hope of a letter state when this is over, is built on 
faith in God's testimony. We have no sort of evidence but 
this, that any such state exists. We cannot see any thing 
of the kind, nor aught from which we can infer it. We 
cannot learn it from any of our senses. Reason itself could 
never have found it out. Reason might have taught us the 
idea of a future state, but not of a future state of bliss. 
Though much might be argued from the fitness of things, to 
prove that man is not made barely for the present life, yet 
nothing could be drawn from thence to prove that rebels 
against the Supreme Being should live in a state of eternal 
felicity : no ; for this we are wholly indebted to the " word 
of the promise." Hence, faith is said to be " the substance," 
ground, or foundation "of things hoped for," Heb. 11:1; 
affording us not only a firm persuasion of their reality, but 
a kind of present possession of them. Influenced by this, 
we become dead to the present world, and so, in a sort, over- 
come it ; and, at length " sit down with Christ in his throne, 
as he also hath overcome, and is set down with his father in 
his throne." Rev. 3 : 21. 



12 WALKING BY FAITH. 

We will now add a few words on the importance of such 
a life. If, all things considered, it would have been best 
for us to have always seen our way before us, to have been 
guided, so to speak, with our own eyes, and not to have im- 
plicitly followed the directions of God, no doubt so it would 
have been. But he who perfectly, and at once, saw the 
beginning and end of all things, judged otherwise. With 
the highest wisdom, no doubt, he formed the resolution, " The 
just shall live by faith." It may be impossible for us, in 
the present state, to find out all the reasons for this resolu- 
tion, but two or three seem to present themselves. 

1. Such a life brings great glory to God. Confidence is 
universally a medium of honor. To confide in a fellow- 
creature, puts honor upon him in the account of others, and 
affords a pleasure to himself, especially if he be wise and 
upright, as it gives him an opportunity of proving his wis- 
dom and fidelity. Though the great God cannot be made 
more honorable than he is, by any thing that we can do, yet 
his honor may by this be made more apparent. We honor 
him so far as we form just conceptions of him in our own 
minds, and act so as to give just representations of him to 
others. God is graciously pleased to declare that he " takes 
pleasure in those that hope in his mercy;" and why? 
Surely, among other things, because it gives him occasion 
to display the glory of his grace. And as he takes pleasure 
in those that hope in his mercy, and rely upon it ; so he 
takes pleasure in ordering things so that we may be put to 
the trial, whether we will rely on him or not. It was this 
induced him to lead Israel through the wilderness, rather 
than by the ready road to Canaan. He knew they would 
be in fact dependent upon him, let them be where they 
would ; but they would not be sensible of that dependence, 
nor have so much opportunity of entirely trusting him, in 
any other way, as in this ; and so it would not be so much 
for the glory of his great name. He, therefore, would lead 
a whole nation, with all their little ones, into an inhospitable 



WALKING BY FAITH. 13 

desert, where was scarcely a morsel of meat to eat, and in 
many places not a drop of water to drink — a land of deserts 
and of pits, of scorpions and fiery flying serpents — here, if 
anywhere, they must be sensibly dependent on God. They 
must be fed and preserved immediately from heaven itself, 
and that by miracle, or all perish in a few days ! Here 
God must appear to be what he was : here mercy and truth 
must appear to go with them indeed ! 

What an opportunity had they afforded them to walk 
those forty years by faith ; what grounds for an entire con- 
fidence were afforded them ! But, alas, their faithless hearts 
perverted their way, and in the end proved their ruin ! Ten 
times they tempted God' in the desert, till at length he sware 
concerning that generation, that for their unbelief they 
should die in the wilderness, and never enter his rest. 
Few, if any, besides Joshua and Caleb, would dare to trust 
him, notwithstanding all his wonders, and all his mercies ! 
They, however, for their part, took hold of his strength, 
and thought themselves able, having God on their side, to 
encounter any thing ! Their spirit was to walk by faith, 
and not by sight, and herein it is easy to see how they glo- 
rified God. 

O brethren, let the glory of God lie near our hearts ! 
Let it be dearer to us than our dearest delights ! Herein 
consists the criterion of true love to him. Let us, after the 
noble example of Joshua and Caleb, " follow the Lord fully." 
Numb. 14 : 24. Let us approve of every thing that tends 
to glorify him. Let us be reconciled to Him who " suffer- 
eth us to hunger, that we may know that man liveth not by 
bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the 
mouth of God." Deut. 8:3. If he bring us into hard and 
difficult situations, situations to an eye of sense impossible to 
endure, remember it is that he may give us an opportunity 
of glorifying him, by trusting him in the dark. The more 
difficult the trial, the more glory to him that bears us through, 
and the greater opportunity is afforded us for proving that we 



14 WALKING BY FAITH. 

can indeed trust him with all our concerns ; that, we can 
trust him when we cannot see what he is doing. 

Those very much dishonor God, who profess to trust him 
for another world, but in the common difficulties of this are 
perpetually murmuring, peevish, and distrustful. How dif- 
ferent was it with Abraham in offering up his son Isaac. 
What ! offer up Isaac ! his son, his only son of promise ! Is 
not the Messiah to spring out of his loins ? What will be- 
come of all the nations of the earth who are to be blessed in 
him ? How natural and excusable might such questions 
have seemed ; much more so than most of our objections to 
the divine conduct. Sense, in this case, had it been con- 
sulted, must have entered a thousand protests. But the 
" father of the faithful" consulted not with flesh and blood, 
not doubting but God knew what he was about, if he did not. 
O that we may prove ourselves the children of faithful 
Abraham. " Against hope," in appearance, " he believed 
in hope " of divine all-sufficiency ; fully persuaded, that what 
God had promised he was able to perform — he stretched his 
obedient arm, nor had he recalled it, had not heaven inter- 
posed ; he was "strong in faith, giving glory to God." 

2. It is 'productive of great good to us. The glory of 
God, and the good of those that love him — thanks be to his 
name ! — always go together. It is equally to their benefit 
and to his honor, for instance, to lie low before him, and to 
feel their entire dependence on him. It is essential to the 
real happiness of an intelligent creature to be in his proper 
place, and to take a complacency in being so. But nothing 
tends more to cultivate these dispositions than God's deter- 
mining that we at present should walk by faith, and not by 
sight. Faith, in the whole of it, tends more than a little to 
abase the fallen creature ; and to walk by faith, which is as 
much as to acknowledge that we are blind, and must see 
with the eyes of another, is very humbling. The objects of 
our desire being frequently for a time withheld, and we, 
during those times, being reduced to situations wherein we 



WALKING BY FAITH. 15 

can see no help, and so are obliged to repose our trust in 
God, contributes more than a little to make us feel our de- 
pendence upon him. Agur saw that a constant fulness of 
this world was unfriendly to a spirit of entire dependence 
upon God : therefore he prayed, " Give me not riches — lest 
I be full, and deny thee." Prov. 30 : 9. Whatever tends 
to humble and try us, tends to " do us good in the latter 
end." Deut. 8 : 16. 

Great and wonderful is the consolation that such a walk 
affords. In all the vicissitudes of life, or horrors of death, 
nothing can cheer and fortify the mind like this. By faith 
in an unseen world we can endure injuries without revenge, 
affliction without fainting, and losses without despair. Let 
the nations of the earth dash, like potsherds, one against 
another; yea, let nature itself approach towards its final 
dissolution ; let her groan, as being ready to expire, and 
sink into her primitive nothing; still the believer lives! 
His all is not on board that vessel ! His chief inheritance 
lies in another soil ! 

" His hand the good man fastens on the skies, 
And bids earth roll, nor feels her idle whirl !" 

3. It will make vision the sweeter. It affords a great 
pleasure, when we make a venture of any kind, to find our- 
selves at last not disappointed. If a considerate man embark 
his all on board a vessel, and himself with it, he may have 
a thousand fears ere he reaches the end of his voyage ; but 
should he, after numberless dangers, safely arrive, and find 
it not only answer, but far exceed his expectations, his joy 
will be then far greater than if he had run no hazard at all. 
What he has gained will seem much sweeter than if it had 
fallen to him in a way that had cost him nothing. Thus be-, 
lievers venture their all in the hands of Christ, persuaded 
that he is able to keep that which they have committed to 
him against that day. To find, at last, that they have not 
confided in him in vain, yea, that their expectations are not 



16 WALKING BY FAITH. 

only answered, but infinitely outdone, will surely enhance 
the bliss of heaven. The remembrance of our dangers, 
fears, and sorrows, will enable us to enjoy the heavenly state, 
with a degree of happiness impossible to have been felt, if 
those dangers, fears, and sorrows, had never existed. 

My readers, we all of us either live by faith or by sight ; 
either upon things heavenly or things earthly. If upon the 
former, let us go forward ; on the word of a God, everlasting 
glory is before us. But if upon the latter, alas, our store 
will be soon exhausted ! All these dear delights are but the 
brood of time — a brood that will soon take to themselves wings, 
and, with her that cherisheth them, fly away. Oh, my 
readers, is it not common for many of you to suppose, that 
they who live by faith in the enjoyment of a world to come, 
live upon mere imaginations? But are you not mistaken? 
It is your enjoyments, and not theirs, that are imaginary. 
Pleasures, profits, honors, what are they ? The whole form 
only a kind of ideal world, a sort of splendid show, like that 
in a dream, which when you awake is all gone. The Lord 
Jesus will say, at the last great day, " Depart, depart ! Ye 
have had your reward ! Ye have had your choice, what 
would you more ? You never chose me for your portion : 
you in effect said to me and my interest, We will have no 
part in David, nor inheritance in the son of Jesse ; see to 
thyself, David." Ah ! now, see to thyself, sinner! 

Christians, ministers, brethren — all of us ; let us realize 
the subject. Let us pray, and preach, and hear, and do 
every thing w r e do with eternity in view. Let us deal much 
with Christ and invisible realities. Let us, whenever called, 
freely deny ourselves for his sake, and trust him to make up 
the loss. Let us not faint under present difficulties, but con- 
sider them as opportunities afforded us to glorify God. Let 
us be ashamed that we derive our happiness so much from 
things below, and so little from things above. In one word, 
let us fight the good fight of faith, and lay hold on eternal 
life. 



'i HE 



No. 132. 



PROGRESS OF GRACE 



IN THREE LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 



BY REV. JOHN NEWTON, 

RBCTOR 07 ST MART ffOOLHOTH, LOHDO; 




First the "blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear. 

MiRK 4 : 28. 

LETTER I, 

A • OR, GRACE IN THE BLADE. MARK 4 : 28. 

Dear Sir — According to your desire, I sit down to give 
you my general views of a progressive work of grace, in 
the several stages of a believer's experience, which I shall 
mark by the different characters, A, B, C ; answerable 
to the distinctions our Lord teaches us to observe from 
the growth of the corn, Mark 4 : 28. " First the blade, 
then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear." The Lord 
leads all his people effectually and savingly to the know- 
ledge of the same essential truths, but in such a variety 



VOL. IV. 



27 



2 PROGRESS OF GRACE. 

of methods, that it will be needful, in this disquisition, to 
set aside, as much as possible, such things as may be only 
personal and occasional in the experience of each, and to 
collect those only which, in a greater or less degree, are 
common to them all. I shall not, therefore, give you a copy 
of my own experience, or of that of any individual ; but 
shall endeavor, as clearly as I can, to state what the Scrip- 
ture teaches us concerning the nature and essentials of a 
work of grace, so far as it will bear a general application to 
all those who are the subjects of gracious operations. 

By nature we are all dead in trespasses and sin ; not 
only strangers to God, but in a state of enmity and opposi- 
tion to his government and grace. In this respect, whatever 
difference there may be in the characters of men as mem- 
bers of society, they are all, whether wise or ignorant, if 
unassisted by the Holy Spirit, incapable of receiving or 
approving divine truths. 1 Cor. 2 : 14. On this ground, 
our Lord declares, " No man can come unto me, except the 
Father who has sent me draw him." Though the term 
Father most frequently expresses a known and important 
distinction in the adorable Trinity, I apprehend our Lord 
sometimes uses it to denote God, or the Divine Nature, in 
contradistinction from his humanity, as in John 14 : 9. And 
this I take to be the sense here : " No man can come unto 
me unless he is taught of God," and wrought upon by a 
divine power. The immediate exertion of this power, ac- 
cording to the economy of salvation, is rather ascribed to 
the Holy Spirit than to the Father, John 16 : 8-11 ; but it 
is the power of the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
and therefore severally attributed to the Father, Son, and 
Spirit. John 5 : 21, and 6 : 44, 63 ; 2 Cor. 3 : 18 ; 2 Thess. 
3: 5. 

By A, I would understand a person who is under the 
drawings of God, which will infallibly lead him to the Lord 



PROGRESS OF GRACE. 3 

Jesus Christ for life and salvation. The beginning of this 
work is instantaneous. It is effected by a certain kind of 
light communicated to the soul, to which it was before an 
utter stranger. The eyes of the understanding are opened 
and enlightened. The light at first afforded is weak and 
indistinct, like the morning dawn ; but, when it is once 
begun, it will certainly increase and spread to the perfect 
day. -We commonly speak as if conviction of sin were 
the first work of God to the soul that he is in mercy about 
to draw to himself. But I think this is inaccurate. Con- 
viction is only a part, or rather an immediate effect, of that 
first work ; and there are many convictions which do not 
at all spring from it, and therefore are only occasional and 
temporary, though for a season they may be very sharp, and 
put a person upon doing many things. 

In order to a due conviction of sin, we must previously 
have some adequate conceptions of the God with whom we 
have to do. Sin may be feared as dangerous, without this ; 
but its nature and demerit can be understood only by being 
contrasted with the holiness, majesty, goodness, and truth 
of the God against whom it is committed. No outward 
means, no mercies, judgments, or ordinances, can communi- 
cate such a discovery of God, or produce such a conviction 
of sin, without the concurrence of divine light and power. 
The natural conscience and passions may be indeed so far 
wrought upon by outward means, as to stir up some desires 
and endeavors ; but if these are not founded in a spiritual 
apprehension of the perfections of God, according to the 
revelation he has made of himself in his word, they will, 
sooner or later, come to nothing ; and the person affected 
will either return by degrees to his former ways, 2 Peter, 
2 : 20, or he will sink into a self-righteous form of godliness, 
destitute of the power. Luke 18: 11. And therefore, as 
there are so many things in the dispensation of the Gospel 



4 PROGRESS OF GRACE. 

suited to work upon the natural passions of men, the many 
woful miscarriages and apostasies among professors are 
more to be lamented than wondered at. For though the 
seed may seem to spring up and look green for a season, if 
there be not depth for it to take .root, it will surely wither 
away. We may be unable to judge with certainty, upon 
the first appearance of a religious profession, whether the 
work be thus deep and spiritual or not ; but " the Lord knows 
them that are his ;" and wherever it is real, it is an infalli- 
ble token of salvation. Now, as God thus reveals himself 
only by the medium of Scripture truth, the light received 
this way leads the soul to the Scripture, whence it springs ; 
and all the leading truths of the word of God soon begin to 
be perceived and assented to. The evil of sin is acknow- 
ledged, the evil of the heart is felt. There may be, for 
a while, some efforts to obtain the favor of God by prayer, 
repentance, and reformation ; but, for the most part, it is not 
very long before these things are proved to be, in themselves, 
vain and ineffectual. The soul, like the woman mentioned 
Mark 5 : 26, Wearied with vain expedients, finds itself worse 
and worse ; and is gradually brought to see the necessity 
and sufficiency of the Gospel salvation. 

A may soon be a believer thus far — that he believes the 
word of God, and sees and feels things to be as they are 
there described, hates and avoids sin, because he knows 
it is displeasing to God, and contrary to his goodness ; he 
receives the record which God has given of his Son ; has 
his heart affected, and drawn to Jesus, by views of his 
glory and of his love to poor sinners ; ventures upon his 
name and promises as his only encouragement to come to 
a throne of grace ; waits diligently in the use of all means 
appointed for the communion and growth of grace ; loves 
the Lord's people, accounts them the excellent of the earth, 
and delights in their conversation. He is longing, waiting, 



PROGRESS OF GRACE. 5 

and praying for a share in those blessings which he believes 
they enjoy, and can be satisfied with nothing less. He is 
convinced of the power of Jesus to save him ; but through 
remaining ignorance and legality, the remembrance of sin 
committed, and the sense of present corruption, he often 
questions his willingness ; and not knowing the aboundings 
of grace, and the security of the promises, he fears lest the 
compassionate Sayiour should spurn him from his feet. 

While he is thus young in the knowledge of the Gospel, 
burdened with sin, and perhaps beset with Satan's tempta- 
tions, the Lord, " who gathers the lambs in his arms, and 
carries them in his bosom," is pleased at times to favor him 
with cordials, that he may not be swallowed up with over- 
much sorrow. Perhaps his heart is enlarged in prayer, or 
under hearing ; or some good promise is brought home to 
his mind, and applied with power and sweetness. He mis- 
takes the nature and design of these comforts, which are not 
given him to rest in, but to encourage him to press forward. 
He thinks he is then right, because he has them, and fondly 
hopes to have them always. Then his mountain stands 
strong. But, ere long, he feels a change ; his comforts are 
withdrawn ; he finds no heart to pray, no attention in hear- 
ing, indwelling sin revives with fresh strength, and perhaps 
Satan returns with redoubled rage. 

Then he is at his wits' end ; thinks his hopes were pre- 
sumptuous, and his comforts delusions. He wants to feel 
something that may give him a warrant to trust in the free 
promises of Christ. His views of his Redeemer's grace 
are very narrow ; he sees not the harmony and glory of the 
divine attributes in the salvation of a sinner ; he sighs for 
mercy, but fears that justice is against him. However, by 
these changing dispensations the Lord is training him up, 
and bringing him forward. He receives grace from Jesus, 
whereby he is enabled to fight against sin ; his conscience 
vol. IV. 27* 



(3 PROGRESS OF GRACE. 

is tender, his troubles are chiefly spiritual troubles ; and he 
thinks, if he could but attain a sure and abiding sense of his 
acceptance in the Beloved, hardly any outward trial would 
be capable of giving him much disturbance. 

Indeed, notwithstanding the weakness of his faith, and 
the prevalence of a legal spirit, which greatly hurt him, there 
are some things in his present experience, the absence of 
which he may, perhaps, look back upon with regret here- 
after, when his hope and knowledge will be more estab- 
lished ; particularly that sensibility and keenness of appe- 
tite with which he now attends the ordinances, desiring the 
sincere milk of the word with earnestness and eagerness, as 
a babe does the breast. He counts the hours from one op- 
portunity to another ; and the attention and desire with which 
he hears, may be read in his countenance. His zeal is like- 
wise lively, and may be, for want of more experience, too 
importunate and forward. He has a love for souls, and a 
concern for the glory of God ; which, though it may at some 
seasons create him trouble, and at others be mixed with some 
undue notions of self, yet, in its principle, is highly desir- 
able and commendable. John 18 : 10. 

The grace of God influences both the understanding and 
the affections. Warm affections without knowledge can 
rise no higher than superstition ; and that knowledge which 
does not influence the heart and affections will only make 
a hypocrite. The true believer is rewarded in both respects ; 
yet we may observe, that though A is not without know- 
ledge, this state is more usually remarkable for the warmth 
and liveliness of the affections. On the other hand, as the 
work advances, though the affections are not left out, yet it 
seems to be carried on principally in the understanding. 
The old Christian has more solid, judicious, connected views 
of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the glories of his person and 
redeeming love ; hence, his hope is more established, his 



PROGRESS OF GRACE. 7 

dependence more simple, and his peace and strength, other 
things being equal, are more abiding and uniform, than in 
the case of a young convert ; but the latter has, for the most 
part, the advantage in point of sensible fervency. 

A tree is most valuable when laden with ripe fruit, but 
it has a peculiar beauty when in blossom. It is spring-time 
with A ; he is in bloom, and, by the grace and blessing of 
the heavenly Husbandman, will bear fruit in old age. His 
faith is weak, but his heart is warm. He will seldom ven- 
ture to think himself a believer; but he sees, and feels, 
and does those things which no one could, unless the Lord 
was with him. The very desire and bent of his soul are to 
God, and to the word of his grace. His knowledge is but 
small, but it is growing every day. If he is not a father, 
or a young man, in grace, he is a dear child. The Lord has 
visited his heart, delivered him from the love of sin, and 
fixed his desires supremely upon Jesus Christ. The spirit 
of bondage is gradually departing from him, and the hour of 
liberty, which he longs for, is approaching, when, by a 
further discovery of the glorious gospel, it shall be given 
him to know his acceptance, and to rest upon the Lord's 
finished salvation. We shall then take notice of him by 
the name of B, in a second letter, if you are not unwilling 
that I should prosecute the subject. I am, etc. 



LETTER II. 

Bj OR, GRACE IN THE EAR. MARK 4:28. 

Dear Sir — The manner of the Lord's work in the hearts 
of his people is not easily traced, though the fact is certain, 
and the evidence demonstrable from Scripture. In attempt- 
ing to explain it, we can only speak in general, and are at a 
loss to form such a description as shall take in the immense 
variety of cases which occur in the experience of believers. 



Q PROGRESS OF GRACE. 

I have already attempted such a general delineation of a 
young convert, under the character of A, and am now to 
speak of him by the name of B. 

This state I suppose to commence when the soul, after 
an interchange of hopes and fears, according to the different 
frames it passes through, is brought to rest in Jesus, by a 
spiritual apprehension of his complete suitableness and suf- 
ficiency, as the " wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and 
redemption," of all who trust in him, and is enabled by an 
appropriating faith to say, " He is mine, and I am his." 
There are various degrees of this persuasion : it is of a 
growing nature, and is capable of increase so long as we 
remain in this world. I call it assurance, when it arises 
from a simple view of the grace and glory of the Saviour, . 
independent of our sensible frames and feelings, so as to 
enable us to answer all objections from unbelief and Satan, 
with the apostle's word : " Who is he that condemneth ? It 
is Christ that died, yea, rather, that is risen again, who is 
even at the right hand of God, who also maketh interces- 
sion for us." Rom. 8 : 34. This, in my judgment, does 
not belong to the essence of faith, so that B should be 
deemed more truly a believer than A, but to the esiablish- 
ment of faith. And now that faith is stronger, it has more 
to grapple with. 

I think the characteristic of the state of A is desire, and 
B is conflict. Not that B's desires have subsided, or that A 
was a stranger to conflict ; but as there was a sensible eager- 
ness and keenness in A 's desires, which, perhaps, is seldom 
known to be equally strong afterwards, so there are usually 
trials and exercises in B's experience, something different in 
their kind, and sharper in their measure, than what A was 
exposed to, or indeed had strength to endure. A, like Israel, 
has been delivered from Egypt by great power and a 
stretched-out arm; has been pursued and terrified by many 



PROGRESS OF GRACE. Q 

enemies ; has given himself up for lost, again and again. 
He has at last seen his enemies destroyed, and has sung the 
song of Moses and the Lamb upon the banks of the Red Sea. 
Then he commences B. Perhaps, like Israel, he thinks his 
difficulties are at an end, and expects to go on rejoicing till 
he enters the promised land. But, alas ! his difficulties are 
in a manner but beginning ; he has a wilderness before him 
of which he is not aware. The Lord is now about to suit his 
dispensations to humble and to prove him, and to show him 
what is in his heart, that he may do him good at the latter 
end, and that all the glory may redound to his own free 
grace. 

Since the Lord hates and abhors sin, and teaches his 
people whom he loves to hate it likewise, it might seem 
desirable — and all things are equally easy to him — that at 
the same time they are delivered from the guilt and reign- 
ing power of sin, they should likewise be perfectly freed from 
the defilement of indwelling sin, and be made fully conform- 
able to him at once. His wisdom has, however, appointed 
otherwise. But from the above premises, of his hatred of 
sin, and his love to his people, I think we may certainly con- 
clude that he would not suffer sin to remain in them, if he 
did not purpose to overrule it for the fuller manifestation of 
the glory of his grace and wisdom, and for the making of 
his salvation the more precious to their souls. 

It is, however, his command, and therefore their duty ; 
yea, further, from the new nature he has given them, it is 
their desire to watch and strive against sin, and to propose 
the mortification of the whole body of sin, and the advance- 
ment of sanctification in their hearts, as their great and 
constant aim, to which they are to have an habitual per- 
severing regard. Upon this plan B sets out. The know- 
ledge of our acceptance with God, and of our everlasting 
security in Christ, has in itself the same tendency upon 



10 PROGRESS OF GRACE. 

earth as it will have in heaven ; and would, in proportion 
to the degree of evidence and clearness, produce the same 
effects of continual love, joy, peace, gratitude, and praise, if 
there was nothing to counteract it. But B is not all spirit. 
A depraved nature still cleaves to him, and he has the seeds 
of every natural corruption yet remaining in his heart. He 
lives likewise in a world that is full of snares and occasions 
suited to draw forth those corruptions ; and he is surrounded 
by invisible spiritual enemies, the extent of whose power 
and subtlety he is yet to learn by painful experience. 

B knows, in general, the nature of his Christian warfare, 
and sees his right to live upon Jesus for righteousness and 
strength, fie is not unwilling to endure hardships as a good 
soldier of Jesus Christ ; and believes, that though he may 
be sore thrust at that he may fall, the Lord will be his stay. 
He knows that his heart is " deceitful and desperately 
wicked," but he does not, he cannot know, at first, the full 
meaning of that expression. Yet it is for the Lord's glory, 
and will, in the end, make his grace and love still more pre- 
cious, that B should find new and mortifying proofs of an 
evil nature, as he goes on, such as he could not once have 
believed, had they been foretold to him, as in the case of 
Peter, Mark 16 : 20. And, in effect, the abominations of 
the heart do not appear in their full strength and aggrava- 
tion, but in the case of one who, like B, has tasted that the 
Lord is gracious, and rejoiced in his salvation. The ex- 
ceeding sinfulness of sin is manifested, not so much by its 
breaking through the restraint of threatenings and com- 
mands, as by its being capable of acting against light and 
against love. 

Thus it was with Hezekiah. He had been a faithful 
and zealous servant of the Lord for many years; but I 
suppose he knew more of God and of himself, in the time 
of his sickness, than he had ever done before. The Lord, 



TROGRESS OF GRACE. \\ 

who had signally defended him from Sennacherib, was 
pleased likewise to raise him from the borders of the grave 
by a miracle, and prolonged the time of his life, in answer 
to prayer. It is plain, from the song which he penned upon 
his recovery, that he was greatly affected with the miracles 
he had received ; yet still there was something in his heart 
which he knew not, and which it was for the Lord's glory 
he should be made sensible of; and therefore he was pleased 
to leave him to himself. It is the only instance in which he 
is said to have been left to himself, and the only instance in 
which his conduct is condemned. 

I apprehend, that in the state of B, that is, for a season 
after we have known the Lord, we have usually the most 
sensible and distressing experience of our evil natures. I 
do not say that it is necessary that we should be left to fall 
into gross outward sin, in order to know what is in our 
hearts ; though I believe many have thus fallen, whose 
hearts, under a former sense of redeeming love, have been 
as truly set against sin as the hearts of others who have 
been preserved from such outward falls. The Lord makes 
some of his children examples and warnings to others, as he 
pleases. 

They who are spared, and whose worst deviations are 
known only to the Lord and themselves, have great reason 
to be thankful. I am sure I have : the merciful Lord has 
not suffered me to make any considerable blot in my pro- 
fession, during the time I have been numbered among his 
people. But I have nothing to boast of herein. It has not 
been owing to my wisdom, watchfulness, or spirituality, 
though, in the main, he has not suffered me to live in the 
neglect of his appointed means. But I hope to go softly all 
my days, under the remembrance of many things for which 
I have as great cause to be abashed before him, as if I had 
been left to sin grievously in the sight of men. Yet, with 



12 PROGRESS OF GRACE. 

respect to my acceptance in the Beloved, I know not if I 
have had a doubt, of a quarter of an hour's continuance, 
for many years past. But, oh, the multiplied instances of 
stupidity, ingratitude, impatience, and rebellion, to which my 
conscience has been witness ! And as every heart knows 
its own bitterness, I have generally heard the like complaints 
from others of the Lord's people with whom I have conversed, 
even from those who have appeared to be eminently gracious 
and spiritual. 

B does not meet with these things, perhaps, at first, nor 
every day. The Lord appoints occasions and turns in life, 
which try our spirits. There are particular seasons when 
temptations are suited to our frames, tempers, and situations ; 
and there are times when he is pleased to withdraw, and to 
permit Satan's approach, that we may feel how vile we are 
in ourselves. We are prone to spiritual pride, to self- 
dependence, to vain confidence, to creature-attachments, and 
a train of evils. The Lord often discovers to us one sinful 
disposition by exposing us to another. He sometimes shows 
us what he can do for us and in us ; and at other times 
how little we can do, and how unable we are to stand with- 
out him. 

By a variety of these exercises, through the overruling 
and edifying influences of the Holy Spirit, B is trained up 
in a growing knowledge of himself and of the Lord. He 
learns to be more distrustful of his own heart, and to 
suspect a snare in every step he takes. The dark and dis- 
consolate hours which he has brought upon himself in times 
past, make him doubly prize the light of God's countenance, 
and teach him to dread whatever might grieve the Spirit of 
God, and cause him to withdraw again. The repeated and 
multiplied pardons which he has received, increase his 
admiration of, and the sense of his obligations to, the rich, 
sovereign, abounding mercy of the covenant. Much has 



PROGRESS OF GRACE. 13 

been forgiven him; therefore he loves much, and therefore 
he knows how to forgive and pity others. He does not call 
evil good, or good evil ; but his own experiences teach him 
tenderness and forbearance. He experiences a spirit of 
meekness towards those who are overtaken in a fault ; and 
his attempts to restore such, are according to the pattern of 
the Lord's dealings with himself. In a word, B's character, 
in my judgment, is complete, and he becomes a C, when the 
habitual frame of his heart answers to that passage in the 
prophet Ezekiel, chap. 16 :63: "That thou mayest remem- 
ber, and be confounded, and never open thy mouth any 
more," to boast, complain, or censure, " because of thy 
shame, when I am pacified towards thee for all that thou 
hast done, saith the Lord God." I am, etc. 



LETTER III. 

C ; OR, THE FULL CORN IN THE EAR. MARK 4 : 28. 

Dear Sir — By way of distinction, I assigned to A the 
character of desire, to B that of conflict. I can think of no 
single word more descriptive of the state of C than contem- 
plation. His eminence, in comparison of A, does not consist 
in the sensible warmth and fervency of his affections : in 
this respect, many of the most exemplary believers have 
looked back with a kind of regret upon the time of their 
espousals, when, though their judgments were but imper- 
fectly formed, and their views of Gospel truths were very 
indistinct, they felt a fervor of spirit, the remembrance of 
which is both humbling and refreshing; and yet they cannot 
recall the same sensations. Nor is he properly distinguish- 
ed from B by a consciousness of his acceptance in the 
Beloved, and an ability of calling God his Father ; for this 
I have supposed B has attained to. Though, as there is a 
vol. iv. 28 



24 PROGRESS OF GRACE. 

growth in every grace, C having had his views of the 
Gospel, and of the Lord's faithfulness and mercy confirmed 
by a longer experience, his assurance is, of course, more 
stable and more simple than when he first saw himself safe 
from all condemnation. 

Neither has C, properly speaking, any more strength 
or stock of grace inherent in himself than B, or even than 
A. He is in the same state of absolute dependence, as 
incapable of performing spiritual acts, or of resisting temp- 
tations, by his own power, as he was at the first day of his 
setting out. Yet, in a sense, he is much stronger, because 
he has a more feeling and constant sense of his own weak- 
ness. The Lord has been long teaching him this lesson by 
a train of various dispensations ; and, through grace, he can 
say, that he has not suffered so many things in vain. His 
heart has deceived him so often, that he is now in a goad 
measure weaned from trusting to it ; and therefore he does 
not meet with so many disappointments. And having found, 
again and again, the vanity of all other helps, he is now 
taught to go to the Lord at once for " grace to help in every 
time of need." Thus he is strong, not in himself, but in the 
grace that is in Christ Jesus. 

But C's happiness and superiority to B lie chiefly in 
this, that by the Lord's blessing on the use of means, such 
as prayer, reading and hearing of the word, and by a sanc- 
tified improvement of what he has seen of the Lord, and 
of his own heart, in the course of his experience, he has 
attained clearer, deeper, and more comprehensive views of 
the mystery of redeeming love ; of the glorious excellency 
of the Lord Jesus, in his person, offices, grace, and faithful- 
ness ; of the harmony and glory of all the divine perfections 
manifested in and by him to the church ; of the stability, 
beauty, fulness, and certainty of the Holy Scriptures, and 
of the heights, depths, lengths, and breadths of the love of 



PROGRESS OF GRACE. 



15 



God in Christ. Thus, though his sensible feelings may not 
be so warm as when he was in the state of A, his judgment 
is more solid, his mind more fixed, his thoughts more habit- 
ually exercised upon the things within the veil. His great 
business is to behold the glory of God in Christ ; and, by 
beholding, he is changed into the same image, and brings 
forth, in an eminent and uniform manner, the fruits of 
righteousness, which are by Jesus Christ to the glory and 
praise of God. His contemplations are not barren specula- 
tions, but have a real influence, and enable him to exemplify 
the Christian character to more advantage, and with more 
consistence, than can, in the present state of things, be ex- 
pected either from A or B. The following particulars may 
illustrate my meaning. 

1 . Humility. A measure of this grace is to be expected 
in every true Christian ; but it can appear only in proportion 
to the knowledge they have of Christ and of their own hearts. 
It is a part of C's daily employment to look back upon the 
way by which the Lord has led him ; and while he reviews 
the Ebenezers he has set up all along the road, he sees, in 
almost an equal number, the monuments of his own perverse 
returns, and how he has, in a thousand instances, rendered 
to the Lord evil for good. Comparing these things together, 
he can, without affectation, adopt the apostle's language and 
style himself " less than the least of all saints, and of sinners 
the chief." A and B know that they ought to be humbled ; 
but C is truly so, and feels the force of the text which I 
mentioned in my last. Ezek. 16 : 63. Again, as he knows 
most of himself, so he has seen most of the Lord. The 
apprehension of infinite majesty, combined with infinite love, 
makes him shrink into the dust. From the exercise of this 
grace he derives two others, which are exceedingly orna- 
mental, and the principal branches of the mind which was 
in Christ. 



16 PROGRESS OF GRACE. 

The one is, submission to the will of God. The views 
he has of his own vileness, unworthiness, and ignorance, and 
of the divine sovereignty, wisdom, and love, teach him to be 
content in every state, and to bear his appointed lot of suf- 
fering with resignation, according to the language of David 
in a time of affliction : " I was dumb, I opened not my mouth, 
because thou didst it." 

The other is, tenderness of spirit towards his fellow- 
Christians. He cannot but judge of their conduct, accord- 
ing to the rule of the word. But his own heart, and the 
knowledge he has acquired of the snares of the world, and 
the subtlety of Satan, teach him to make all due allowances, 
and qualify him for admonishing and restoring, in the spirit 
of meekness, those who have been overtaken in a fault. 
Here A is usually blamable ; the warmth of his zeal, not 
being duly corrected by a sense of his own imperfections, 
betrays him often into a censorious spirit. But C can bear 
with A likewise, because he has been so himself, and he 
will not expect green fruit to be ripe. 

2. Spirituality. A spiritual taste, and a disposition to 
account . all things mean and vain, in comparison of the 
knowledge and love of God in Christ, are essential to a true 
Christian. The world can never be his prevailing choice. 
1 John, 2: 13. Yet we are renewed but in part, and are 
prone to an undue attachment to worldly things. Our spirits 
cleave to the dust, in defiance of the dictates of our better 
judgments; and I believe the Lord seldom gives his people 
a considerable victory over this evil principle, until he has 
let them feel how deeply it is rooted in their hearts. We 
may often see persons entangled and clogged in this respect, 
of whose sincerity, in the main, we cannot justly doubt ; 
especially upon some sudden and unexpected turn in life, 
which brings them into a situation they have not been accus- 
tomed to. A considerable part of our trials are mercifully 



PROGRESS OF GRACE. jy 

appointed to wean us from this propensity ; and it is grad- 
ually weakened by the Lord's showing us, at one time the 
vanity of the creature, and, at another, his own excellence 
and all-sufficiency. 

Even C is not perfect in this respect; but he is more 
sensible of the evil of such attachments, more humbled for 
them, more watchful against them, and more delivered from 
them. He still feels a fetter, but he longs to be free. His 
allowed desires are brought to a point, and he sees nothing 
worth a serious thought, but communion with God and prog- 
ress in holiness. Whatever outward changes C may meet 
with, he will, in general, be the same man still. He has 
learned, with the apostle, not only to suffer want, but, which 
is perhaps the harder lesson, how to abound. A palace 
would be a prison to him without the Lord's presence, 
and with this a prison would be a palace. Hence arises a 
peaceful reliance upon the Lord ; he has nothing, which he 
cannot commit into his hands, which he is not habitually 
aiming to resign to his disposal. Therefore he is not afraid 
of evil tidings ; but when the hearts of others shake like the 
leaves of a tree, he is fixed, trusting in the Lord, who he 
believes can and will make good every loss, sweeten every 
bitter, and appoint all things to work together for his advan- 
tage. He sees that the time is short, lives upon the fore- 
tastes of glory, and therefore accounts not his life, or any 
inferior concernment dear, so that he may finish his course 
with joy. 

3. A union of heart to the glory and will of God, is an- 
other noble distinction of C's spirit. The glory of God and 
the good of his people are inseparably connected. But of 
these great ends the first is unspeakably the highest and 
most important ; and into which every thing else will be 
finally resolved. Now, in proportion as we advance nearer 
to him, our judgment, aim, and end, will be conformable to 

VOL. iv. 2S* 



18 PROGRESS OF GRACE. 

his, and his glory will have the highest place in our hearts. 
At first it is not so, or is so but very imperfectly. Our con- 
cern is chiefly about ourselves ; nor can it be otherwise. 
The convinced soul inquires, What shall I do to be saved ? 
The young convert is intent upon sensible comforts ! and in 
the seasons when he sees his interest secure, the prospect of 
the troubles he may meet with in life makes him often wish 
for an early dismission, that he may be at rest, and avoid 
the heat and the burden of the day. But C has attained to 
more enlarged views : he has a desire to depart and to be 
with Christ, which would be importunate if he considered 
only himself; but his chief desire is, that God may be glo- 
rified in him, whether by his life or by his death. He is 
not his own, nor does he desire to be his own ; but, so that 
the power of Jesus may be manifested in him, he will take 
pleasure in infirmities, in distresses, in temptations ; and 
though he longs for heaven, he would be contented to live 
as long as Methuselah upon earth, if, by any thing he could 
do or suffer, the will and glory of God might be promoted. 
And though he loves and adores the Lord for what he has 
done and suffered for him, delivered him from, and appointed 
him to, yet he loves and adores him likewise with a more 
simple and. direct love, in which self is in a manner forgot, 
from the consideration of his glorious excellence and perfec- 
tion as he is in himself. That God in Christ is glorious 
over all, and blessed for ever, is the very joy of his soul ; 
and his heart can frame no higher wish than that the sov- 
ereign, wise, holy will of God may be accomplished in him, 
and all his creatures. Upon this grand principle his pray- 
ers, schemes, and actions are formed. Thus C is already 
made like the angels, and so far as consistent with the insep- 
arable remnants of a fallen nature, the will of God is re- 
garded by him upon earth as it is by the inhabitants of 
heaven. 



PROGRESS OF GRACE. 1Q 

The power of divine grace in C may be exemplified in 
a great variety of situations. C may be rich or poor, learned 
or illiterate, of a lively natural spirit, or of a more slow and 
phlegmatical constitution. He may have a comparatively 
smooth, or remarkably thorny path, in life ; he may be a 
minister or a layman : these circumstances will give some 
tincture and difference in appearance to the work, but the 
work itself is the same ; and we must, as far as possible, 
drop the consideration of them all, or make proper allowance 
for each, in order to form a right judgment of the life of 
faith. The outward expression of grace may be heightened 
and set off to advantage by many things which are merely 
natural, as evenness of temper, good sense, a knowledge of 
the world, and the like ; and it may be darkened by things 
which are not properly sinful, nor unavoidable, such as low- 
ness of spirit, weak abilities, and pressure of temptations, 
which may have effects that they who have not had experi- 
ence in the same things cannot properly account for. A 
double quantity of real grace, if I may so speak, that has a 
double quantity of hindrances to conflict with, will not be 
easily observed, unless these hindrances are likewise known 
and attended to ; and a smaller measure of grace may ap- 
pear great when its exercise meets with no remarkable 
obstruction. For these reasons we can never be competent 
judges of each other, because we cannot be competently 
acquainted with the whole complex case. But our great 
and merciful High Priest knows the whole ; he considers 
our frame, " remembers that we are but dust," makes gra- 
cious allowances, pities, bears, accepts, and approves, with 
unerring judgment. 

The sun in his daily course beholds nothing so excellent 
and honorable upon earth as C, though he may perhaps be 
confined to a cottage, and is little known or noticed by men. 
But he is the object and residence of divine love, the charge 



20 PROGRESS OF GRACE. 

of angels, and ripening for everlasting glory. Happy C! 
His toils, sufferings, and exercises, will be soon at an end ; 
soon his desires will be accomplished ; and He who has 
loved him, and redeemed him with his own blood, will 
receive him to himself, with a " Well done, good and faith- 
ful servant ; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." 

If this representation is agreeable to the Scriptures, how 
greatly are they mistaken, and how much to be pitied, who, 
while they make profession of the Gospel, seem to have no 
idea of the effects it is designed to produce upon the hearts 
of believers, but either allow themselves in a worldly spirit 
and conversation, or indulge their unsanctified tempers by a 
fierce contention for names, notions, and parties. May the 
Lord give to you and to me daily to grow in the experience 
of that wisdom which "is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, 
and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good works, 
without partiality, and without hypocrisy." I am, etc. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



i\o. 133. 

CONVERSION 

OF 

MRS. ELEANOR EMERSON. 

FROM AN ACCOUNT WRITTEN BY HERSELF. 



In childhood I was often anxious concerning my future 
welfare, and was frequently brought to tremble under a 
sense of divine wrath. But the foibles and vanities of that 
early period of life diverted my attention till maturer years, 
when T had very serious impressions from time to time. 
Especially, when attending the solemn administration of the 
Lord's Supper, I often felt painful sensations at the thought 
of being an uninterested spectator of that sacred institution ; 
and was led to reflect on the more awful separation, which 
might, ere long, sever me eternally from all the righteous. 
Yet, by intermixing with the giddy crowd, I foolishly pro- 
crastinated the all-important concerns of my immortal soul. 

Three years ago, on a visit at N , finding my young 

associates much engaged in the exalted pursuit of religion, 
my fears were revived ; and for months after my return, I 
experienced distressing anxiety on account of my deplora- 
ble situation. But there being a general declension of 
religion in the place where I then resided, I felt a degrading 
diffidence in conversing on that sublime and noble subject. 
In company with my gay associates, I appeared with my 
usual vivacity, and presumptuously covered the inward 
struggles of a guilty conscience with the deceitful smile of 



2 CONVERSION OF 

complacency. No wonder, then, that a heart-searching God 
should, in anger, withdraw the strivings of his Holy Spirit, 
and leave me to hardness of heart and blindness of mind. 

I soon considered my situation less dangerous than I had 
formerly supposed it to be ; and upon reviewing my past 
life, was ready to believe that my uniform morality and 
friendly benevolence, as I then blindly considered it, indi- 
cated a heart at peace with God. I therefore concluded, 
that perseverance in attending public worship, kindness to 
the poor, and faithfulness in my employment as a teacher, 
would induce the infinite Jehovah to exercise mercy towards 
me. 

While residing in this place, I received a letter from the 
minister of a town where I had before resided, in which he 

observed, that the degeneracy of the people of B was 

truly lamentable ; that their depravity, infidelity, and heav- 
en-daring wickedness had become a subject of lamentation 
to the friends of Zion. He also observed, that he thanked 
God I was with them, to lead the dear young people in the 
ways of piety and virtue. This expression struck me very 
forcibly, and led me to reflect on my unworthiness and 
insufficiency to teach them that with which, I had reason to 
fear, I was myself unacquainted. 

Early in the winter, being invited to attend a ball, I de- 
clined, partly from a disrelish for such amusements, which 
I had found unsatisfying, and partly from a desire to secure 
my respectability with the more serious and influential peo- 
ple, who were much opposed to scenes of juvenile hilarity. 
The same afternoon a meeting was appointed for the exam- 
ination of candidates for church-membership. Just as I 
was prepared to attend this meeting, a request was brought 
me to step into the house of a near neighbor. His lady 
was preparing for the ball. She immediately expressed her 



MRS. ELEANOR EMERSOX. 3 

sorrow that I was not going to be her company, and observed, 
that she hoped those Christian friends were no hindrance. 
Feeling somewhat piqued at her thinking me overawed by 
the fear of others, I at once defied the whole fraternity of 
Christians to prevent my going, had inclination prompted ; 
but remarked, that by reason of bad health, I had long felt 
indifferent to such scenes of merriment, although I consid- 
ered them perfectly innocent. At this remark, I felt such 
a sting of conscience that I hastily withdrew. As soon as 
I came into the street, 1 exclaimed aloud against my folly, 
which led me to sell my soul for the good opinion of dust 
and ashes. 

I went immediately to the meeting, where I found a 

solemn collection of people. After prayer, a Miss H 

related what God had done for her soul. I was much 
affected. But on her mentioning the load of sin and guilt 
that weighed down her spirits under conviction, I almost 
blushed for her, lest she had committed some black crimes, 
though her good name had escaped untarnished. Yes, I 
secretly thanked God, that, though conscious of my impen- 
itence, I was not like that wicked " publican." 

On the evening of the same day, the faithful servants of 
the Lord assembled, for the purpose of imploring mercy for 
the thoughtless multitude, who were ingeniously contriving 
to cheer their way to hell by sinful merriment. I did not 
attend the prayer-meeting ; but the next Sabbath evening I 
heard a gentleman relate the surprising effect it had on him. 
He observed, that he seldom attended evening meetings ; but 
for the novelty of hearing what could be said on so simple 
an occasion as a " frolic," he at that time attended ; and 
was exceedingly solemnized in hearing the fervent prayers 
of the pious supplicants for those who were engaged as he 
had often been in earlier life. The impression sunk deep 



4 CONVERSION OF 

in his mind, that if this was a sinful diversion, he was a 
sinner indeed. He continued thoughtful through the next 
day. His secret sins, by the divine agency, were unveiled 
to his view in all their dismal forms. Sleep departed from 
his eyes, and slumber from his eyelids. A weight of guilt 
oppressed him to such a degree, that he felt as though it were 
impossible for him to arise, or even to turn himself in bed. 
But a glorious view of Immanuel's character was presented, 
and he was delivered from his bondage, and made to rejoice 
in the light and liberty of the blessed Gospel. Many, who 
had attended the ball, were present to hear him relate his 
experience, and appeared sensibly affected with the thought, 
that God had made their meeting for mirth the instrument 
of good, when they " meant not so, neither did their hearts 
think so." My sister, who had attended the ball, observed, 
that had she known at the time that prayers were ascending 
to God to save her from impending vengeance, her feet 
would have performed their office but poorly, and the en- 
chanting viol would have lost its melody. 

From this time I resolved to lay aside all my high notions 
of thinking myself something, when I was nothing ; and to 
strive unremittingly to obtain an interest in the blood of the 
Lamb. I meditated on the foolishness of laboring, as I had 
long done, " for that which satisfieth not." I endeavored 
to recall every thought which wandered from the great ob- 
ject in view, and to look into my heart, and discern, if pos- 
sible, whether any good seed remained there, which I might 
cherish and bring forward, to recommend me to God. I 
resolved not to spare myself, but to review my past iniquity, 
and humbly to repent of my sins. This I found a most un- 
pleasant task. To arraign myself before vindictive justice 
was truly mortifying. I could find, however, but few sins, 
comparatively speaking, which did not appear counterbal- 



MRS. ELEANOR EMERSON. 5 

anced by the great good I had done in the world ; but these 
few would eternally shut me out of heaven, unless repented 
of. Consequently, I determined to make it the business of 
my life to deplore my sins, and become reconciled to God. 
I attended to reading, and to religious meetings, which were 
frequent ; and above all, to prayer, entreating of God to 
show me the iniquity of my heart, and to have mercy on me. 
I refrained entirely from levity, and was resolutely deter- 
mined to shun all vain and idle company, lest I should be 
induced to give up my resolutions, and return to the pur- 
suits of the world. 

One night, being unusually distressed, I conversed till 
late with my sister on our undone situation by nature. I 
told her, that, in addition to my distress for myself, I expe- 
rienced anxiety for her and others of our family, similar to 
what the rich man in the parable felt for his brethren, " lest 
they also should come into the same place of torment." A 
little before day I fell asleep ; and just as the day dawned, 
I was suddenly awaked with the impression of the following 
words on my mind : " Arise, O sleeper, and call upon thy 
God, if so be he will have mercy on us." I thought it was 
a call to me, and endeavored to cry for mercy. I arose in 
haste, and strove to find language which would penetrate 
the ear of the Almighty, and insure a blessing. But, alas, 
I thought I realized that the prayers of the wicked are an 
abomination to the Lord. My convictions rapidly increased ; 
and my exertions were proportionably great. I refused to 
indulge in sleep; and contrived many ways to drive the un- 
welcome messenger from my pillow. 

My sins of childhood and youth stared me in the face. 
But still I hugged to my heart the benevolent acts of my 
former life, and determined that they should cancel some 
part of the mighty debt in which I saw myself so deeply 

vol. iv. 29 



q CONVERSION OF 

involved, or at least soften the rigors of my future punish- 
ment. When asked, whether I saw that God would be just 
in cutting me off, I answered, "Yes, perfectly." But my 
heart would secretly require an abatement of his justice, 
on account of my love to his people and attendance on his 
worship. 

From my apparent resignation and former attention to 
religion, Christians were much deceived in me, and felt a 
comfortable hope that I had previously passed from death 
unto life, and that my trials were such as many pious souls 
are called to endure. This mistake was of all things the 
most distressing to me. For as I began to despair of the 
efficacy of my own prayers, I depended greatly on the pray- 
ers of the righteous. My great fear was, that other poor 
sinners would become subjects of their supplications, while 
I should be left to perish. Fearful thought ! it filled my 
soul with horror. 

Under the apprehension of suffering from the mistaken 

views of Christians, I wrote to my friend Mr. T , the 

minister of C , beseeching him to bring my particular 

case before God, and without cessation to implore divine 
mercy on my poor, perishing soul. I entreated him and his 
pious companion, by every tie of friendship, to pray fer- 
vently for me day and night. And I felt a momentary relief 
from having engaged them to labor for me, even though all 
others should neglect me. 

During all this time of trial and concern, I felt a sense 
of the duty devolving on me, to warn my pupils constantly 
of their danger, and exhort them to repentance. To this I 
attended constantly, solemnly urging them to forsake sin, 
and cleave unto the Lord. Thus I continued laboring, till 
my health was so impaired, that with difficulty I attended to 
my school. But I was still a stranger to the depths of ini- 



MRS. ELEANOR EMERSON. 7 

quity which I was fostering in my polluted heart. About 
that time my sister was brought under pungent conviction ; 
and the first evidence that I had of my opposition to God's 
government, was a distressing fear that she would be first 
brought home to God. Here, too, was the first contradiction 
that I realized to my supposed good-will to all my fellow- 
creatures. I endeavored to reason myself out of this rank- 
ling envy. But God's justice was immediately arraigned 
for not regarding my incessant cries and tears. I was will- 
ing to have her accepted ; but justice appeared to demand 
that I should receive the blessing first. 

The next instance which I perceived of rebellious feel- 
ing against God, was on being disappointed in going to pub- 
lic worship. I thought that, as God governed the universe, 
this seeming accident had taken place according to his pur- 
pose ; and it appeared to me an evidence that he had given 
me over to destruction. This thought gave me exquisite 
distress. But as I had often exclaimed against others for 
cavilling at the conduct of Jehovah, I concealed my feelings 
as much as possible ; and conceiving them to be extremely 
sinful, endeavored to gain an ascendency over them. 

I strove assiduously to rid myself of this most uncom- 
fortable opposition to the glorious Lord of the universe. I 
inquired with myself, " Is this the tender, benevolent heart, 
which never wished ill to any created being ? And shall it 
rise in hostility against the Father of mercies, that Being who 
has so tenderly upheld, protected, and nourished me V But 
alas, it was reasoning with a heart of stone. God, I thought, 
had dealt hardly and cruelly with me, in giving me existence. 
" O for the privilege," I said within myself, "of annihilation. 
Dreadful thought ! but far preferable to an existence of un- 
remitting misery." Tears had deserted me, and the burn- 
ing commotion of my tortured bosom was indescribable. 



8 CONVERSION OF 

In this wretched situation my feelings towards my fellow- 
creatures became hard. Even my beloved school, which 
had previously been an asylum of peace and quiet, now 
filled me with disquietude. I there found myself surrounded 
by wretched immortals, many of whom, being under fearful 
apprehensions of danger, seemed to upbraid me with being 
the instrument of their ruin. 

I now clearly discovered, " that by the deeds of the law 
no flesh could be justified." I discovered, that all my ex- 
ternal goodness sprung from motives of self-exaltation ; or, 
what is still more displeasing to God, that it was designed 
as a substitute for the righteousness of Christ. Then all 
my refuges of lies failed me ; God appeared " a consuming 
fire ;" and I felt as if I was an awful instance of his im- 
placable vengeance. 

One evening Mr. R , who boarded with me, men- 
tioned, that, after much trouble, he had procured a seal for 
me to ride to the house of God. I told him I could not go ; 
for if I should, it would only heighten my condemnation. 
My sister tenderly entreated me to take her place in the 
carriage, adding, that she would stay at home ; but I as- 
sured her positively that I would never go to meeting again. 
She left me, with a sorrowful countenance, to deplore my 
awful situation. I retired to my chamber, and, the evening 
being extremely cold, covered myself in bed. My sins, with 
all their accumulated aggravations, stared me in the face ; 
and my good deeds, which I had cherished as the apple of 
my eye, seemed to bear a most threatening aspect ; for it 
was evident these had been my saviour, that had long whis- 
pered " peace, when there was no peace." 

I now endeavored to recall the loving-kindness of God, 
and to reflect on my audacious wickedness in defying the 
wrath of Him who could easily sink me to endless perdition. 



MRS. ELEANOR EMERSON. 9 

But, alas, I was callous to all tenderness or relentingsj and, 

amazing madness ! I longed to know the worst of antici- 
pated vengeance. 

In the morning, after a sleepless night, I endeavored to 

compose myself to appear before the family. Mr. S 

inquired tenderly for my health, which he observed to be 
very low, in consequence of my cough and a constant pain 
in my side. He questioned me also respecting the state 
of my mind, to which I made but little reply. He asked 
whether I desired Christians to pray for me. I told him, 
" No, by no means. I have been foolish enough to make 
this request publicly ; but I am now convinced that all the 
prayers of men and angels cannot save me." 

After my sister obtained comfort, I reflected upon the 
numberless exhortations 1 had given her to flee from the 
wrath to come, and upon the nights we had spent together 
in sleepless, gloomy wretchedness. All this I supposed was 
for the sole purpose of bringing her to the marriage supper 
of the Lamb. The words of our Saviour seemed verified in 
us: "There shall be two in one bed : the one shall be taken, 
and the other shall be left." These views filled me with 
horror; and my heart and flesh felt on fire. Time appeared 
exceedingly short. Eternity seemed within reach. My re- 
bellious heart appeared somewhat humbled, and I endeav- 
ored to pray. My heart seemed ready to burst. My coun- 
tenance was depicted with horror. I shuddered at my own 

wretched aspect. My dear Mrs. S would often turn 

from me in tears, which, I supposed, she compassionately 
shed in view of my approaching ruin ; but which, I have 
since been informed, were caused by the fearful glances of 
despair, darted from eyes once placid and serene. 

I repaired to school. But oh, what a wretched place did 

1 find it ! Numbers of my dear pupils were in a situation 
vol. iv. 29* 



10 CONVERSION OF 

similar to my own. With eyes red with weeping they came 
to me for succor, and seemed to wonder that I was not as 
ready to administer consolation, as formerly to point out their 
danger. But alas, I, who was once alive without the law, 
was now dead by the revival of sin. It was a most aggra- 
vating consideration, that I, who had so frequently and so 
solemnly "preached toothers, must myself be a castaway." 
" I am indeed," thought I, " a monument of God's vin- 
dictive indignation. O that I could hide myself under the 
rocks and mountains ! O what a curse is existence !" Here 
again I endeavored to reason on the perversity of my feel- 
ings, and to reconcile myself to the idea of being in his 
hand, as the clay in the hand of the potter. But alas, I 
found this idea more and more dreadful. These were my 
feelings : " The wrath of Almighty God abides, and will 
ever abide, upon my soul. I feel already the load of sin 
and guilt which must for ever sink me down in ruin. There 
is an awful controversy between my burdened soul and its 
incensed Maker. O that I had died in childhood, before my 
enormous sins became as the sand on the sea-shore for mul- 
titude ! O that I had been bred in a land of heathenish 
darkness, that my crimes might have been less aggravated ! 
O that my powers of mind had been less vigorous, and that 
my opportunities of gaining instruction had been curtailed ! 
O that I had been an idiot, rather than a sensible being, 
destined to the eternal, poignant stings of a guilty con- 
science ! O for the envied situation of the most loathsome 
of brutes, rather than to endure the flames of that fire which 
is never quenched, and the gnawings of that worm which 
never dies ! But even this is denied me. I must go, with 
all my boasted talents and qualifications, which a deceitful 
world has been flattering, to dwell with legions of unholy 
spirits and damned souls !" 



MRS. ELEANOR EMERSON. H 

The meeting, usually attended on this day, was a terror 
to my soul. I had now determined to attend no more. 
But lest my refusal should be attributed to the plain con- 
versation Mr. S had just had with me, and some good 

people should receive gratification from his faithfulness to 
me, I concluded to go, for the last time ; and in all the ob- 
stinacy of despair to hold up my head, which had long been 
bowed down, like a bulrush. An aged man came forward, 
and in trembling accents related what God had done for his 
soul. Then a girl of ten years old, in a manner the most 
animating, related her remarkable experience. I began to 

reflect on the assertion of Mr. S , that God is good. 

" Surely," thought I, " these happy souls can attest the 
truth of this assertion. Their salvation is really as impor- 
tant as mine ; and why should I not rejoice in their happy 
deliverance from the bondage of sin 1 God has been long, 
very long tendering me the same blessed deliverance. But 
I, a fool indeed, with such a price to get wisdom, have had 
no heart to it. Why then should I murmur? How can I 
repine ? I am for ever lost; but God is just." 

Upon this most hearty confession, my long-pent tears 
flowed rapidly ; and while bursting sobs almost tore my 
heart asunder, I reviewed my wicked, desperately wicked 
exercises towards Him, whom I now saw to be just even in 
my eternal condemnation. "Surely," thought I, " of all 
the unreasonable wretches in existence, I am the most de- 
serving of hell." Such was my agitation of body and mind, 
that I verily supposed my soul was taking its final departure. 
I attempted to rise, in order to go into another room, but 
found it impossible. " I must expire," thought I, " in the 
midst of this assembly, as an example of God's righteous 
displeasure. It is just that it should be so ; and every one 
present must rejoice in this expression of his indignation 



12 CONVERSIOxX OF 

against such a vile worker of iniquity." Here I viewed 
myself a criminal, justly condemned to all the tortures of 
endless despair. No gleam of hope beamed on my benight- 
ed soul. No fond expectation from creature aid whispered 
consolation. Against God only had I offended, and done 
this great wickedness, and he only could afford me help. 

My soul seemed humbled in the dust in view of my con- 
demnation ; while I was constrained to cry in spirit, " Even 
so, Lord God Almighty, true and righteous are thy judg- 
ments." At this view of my wretched, hopeless situation, 
the following words passed sweetly through my mind, and 
with such delightful energy, as thrilled through my whole 
soul, and filled me with rapture unspeakable : 

" Jesus, to thy dear faithful hand, 
My naked soul I trust." 

At this most cordial disposal of myself into the hand of 
a glorious Redeemer, the thick clouds seemed to disperse, 
and give place to such a transporting view of the glorious 
Saviour, as no words can express. With an eye of faith, 
I beheld his transcendent glory more conspicuous than that 
of the natural sun in meridian splendor, when bursting from 
behind the thickest clouds. I could no more doubt of the 
being and divinity of Christ, than of my own existence. He 
was presented to my spiritual view in such substantial glory, 
as caused me to adopt the exclamation of the astonished 
Thomas : " My Lord, and my God !" Here all my distress 
subsided. The greatness of God's character, and the glo- 
rious scheme of redemption, filled me with wonder, admira- 
tion, and joy. I raised my head, and looked on Mr. S , 

who was zealously engaged in illustrating the righteousness 
of Christ. " How beautiful," thought I, " are the feet of 
him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace, that 



MRS. ELEANOR EMERSON. 13 

bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation, that 
saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth." 

I looked round on the attentive assembly. Every coun- 
tenance appeared joyful. It seemed to me every heart was 
rejoicing in the salvation of God. I felt that I could unite 
with them in praising and magnifying his glorious name. 
All his attributes appeared lovely. His mercy, in giving 
his Son to die, and his condescension in sending down* the 
Holy Spirit to dwell with such, vile rebels as we are, ap- 
peared unutterable. Never before did I feel so unworthy 
of any favor from God ; never before did the sins I had 
committed against him appear so odious or so great. I felt 
that if, on account of them, God had cast me off for ever, 
his justice would have shone conspicuously bright. No 
song appeared so sweet as that of redeeming mercy ; no 
employment for eternity so delightful, as to unite with the 
hosts of heaven in praise and thanksgiving unto the " Lamb 
that was slain." 

The next day I ventured to inform Mrs. S — ■ — that I 
had lost my opposition of heart, at least for a season. " For 
a season ?" replied she, with tears of joy, " I hope and trust 
you have lost it for ever." Here I felt suspicious that she 
thought me converted ; and as I was decidedly of a con- 
trary opinion, I was unwilling she should be deceived. But 
I felt too happy to trouble myself much about it. 

At the usual hour I repaired to the school. Here the 
alteration appeared more evident than in my own heart. 
Every countenance appeared inexpressibly beautiful. I 
recognized the finger of God in every feature of every face. 
" Surely," thought I, " you are fearfully and wonderfully 
made. Who can withhold adoration from your Maker?" 
I inquired with myself, whether this happy, delightful place 
could be the same in which I had lately passed so many 



14 CONVERSION OF 

dark, dreary hours of despair and horror ; and whether 
those sweet youths could be the same that I had yesterday 
viewed. I walked the room in heavenly contemplations, 
and my heart seemed to overflow with sweet, adoring ecstasy. 
Now my labor was pleasant. My capacity for instructing 
youth, and facility in gaining their confidence, I now consid- 
ered my most distinguishing blessings. I ardently thirsted 
for more knowledge, that I might pour wholesome instruc- 
tion into the opening minds of my attentive pupils, who 
viewed me with almost filial affection. With what rapture 
did I reflect on my most eligible employment ! O who 
would not desire " to rear the tender thought " to God, and 
teach the listening youth the way to glory ! 

The next day Mr. S preached in the most solemn 

manner. He showed forth the terribleness of Christ's com- 
ing to judgment, and treated of the confusion and dismay of 
his enemies at his glorious appearing. I trembled on ac- 
count of others, whom I considered his enemies ; but to my 
astonishment, found my heart exulting at the thought of his 
glorious coming. My inmost soul seemed bursting from its 
brittle tenement, to meet the triumphant Conqueror. The 
prospect of the blessedness of innumerable intelligences, 
together with the everlasting glory to be thereby reflected on 
the character of Immanuel, filled me with joy unspeakable. 
With difficulty I refrained from loud acclamations of praise 
to the omniscient Judge of quick and dead. But as the 
preacher pronounced the awful sentence of our Judge against 
the wicked, "Depart, ye cursed," etc., I felt that I could 
not quit the lovely Saviour. I felt no dread but that of 
leaving for ever the sum of all joy and beauty. Here I 
found myself cleaving to him, and sheltering myself under 
the shadow of his protecting wing. Here I rested securely, 
and feared not the united force of earth and hell. I can 



MRS. ELEANOR EMERSON. 15 

never describe how worthless, yet how happy, I felt in this 
glorious asylum. 

These sweet refreshings from the Lord shone so con- 
spicuously in my countenance, as to lead my friends to con- 
jecture what was going on in my heart. Several asked me 
if I had not obtained a hope. I replied, that I had scarcely 
asked myself that question, and was not qualified to answer 
them. 

At night my sister questioned me closely on the subject, 
and I was constrained to acknowledge, what T had but re- 
cently discovered, that nothing short of the almighty power 
of God was able to effect this change in my views and feel- 
ings ; and I began confidently to hope that he had taken my 
, feet from the horrible pit and miry clay, and placed them 
on the rock Christ Jesus. We passed much time in relating 
our exercises, and admiring that free sovereign grace that 
had snatched us, poor orphan strangers, from eternal burn- 
ings, and put a new song into our mouths, even praise to 
the living God. O that I-could communicate to thoughtless, 
pleasure-seeking youth, the sublime happiness we here en- 
joyed. Not all the combined variety of juvenile vanities, 
not all the honors of an applauding world, could equal the 
weight of a feather, in competition with our exceeding joy. 

How great was the change in my feelings in the course 
of a few weeks ! At variance with the greatest good of the 
universe, and loathing my very being, life had become a 
burden ; while my emaciated frame threatened me with a 
still more wretched condition. But now my every wish, 
my every desire, centred in the glory of Christ's kingdom. 
A firm persuasion that his cause would finally prevail, to 
the everlasting confusion of all its enemies, afforded me 
inexpressible joy and consolation. 

I now opened my mind to Christian friends, and freely 



1G CONVERSION OF 

declared what God had done for my soul. I found such 
satisfaction and delight in obeying the commands of Christ, 
that the frequent intimations in Scripture, and many com- 
plaints of Christians of the difficulties of daily taking up the 
cross, appeared obscure and paradoxical. 

This doctrine, however, was soon clearly illustrated by 
a remarkable trial with which I was exercised, soon after 
giving my relation to the church. During my long agonies 
of soul under conviction, it had been often impressed upon 
my mind, while crying for mercy, that I could not expect 
mercy while I lived in the neglect of daily prayer with and 
for my pupils. When the thought returned with pungency, 
I was often induced to vow to the Lord, that, if he would 
grant me his grace, I would perform this and all other du- 
ties with promptitude. Now for the proof of my readiness 
to perform the vows which my soul had made in anguish. 
The duty of praying in my school appeared indispensable. 
The worth of souls, bound to eternity, seemed to urge the 
necessity of attempting to lead their minds in prayer and 
praise to their Creator. Praying with them seemed the 
most probable way to accomplish this. Gratitude to God 
seemed to urge the immediate execution of my long-pre- 
meditated design. But pride was totally repugnant to the 
procedure. I feared, that praying in my school would be 
deemed ridiculous enthusiasm by those whom I lately held 
in high estimation ; and that even Christians would say, 
"The beginning is too high, we tremble for the end." 
Here I began to hesitate. I searched the Scriptures, to see 
if the injunctions to women not to speak in the church, and 
other passages, would not excuse me from the painful cross. 
But I found nothing that touched my employment. My 
conscience, therefore, was more than ever pressed to be 
faithful to souls committed to my charge. 



MRS. ELEANOR EMERSON. 17 

After much perplexity, I came to the determination to 
dismiss the trying subject, and by doubling my diligence in 
praying for my pupils in secret, and by carefully attending 
to every command of God, to be relieved from the painful 
cross I had so much dreaded. 

After this deliberate and firm resolve, I endeavored to 
turn my meditations upon God and Christ, the pleasing sub- 
jects that had lately so much rejoiced my soul. But alas, 
my day was turned into darkness, and every cheering ray 
of hope was gone ! I was amazed at this sudden and sur- 
prising alteration. All my former evidence was concealed 
from my view. I wondered with what falsehood I had so 
far imposed upon the church, as to induce them to accept 
me. In this unexpected extremity, could I hesitate about 
applying for relief to Him who had preserved me through 
six troubles and through seven ? 

I immediately retired to pour out my complaint to Him, 
" who heareth the young ravens when they cry.*' But all 
was darkness, Egyptian darkness. I could not entertain the 
least clear conception of the nature or attributes of Jehovah ; 
and I felt that I was addressing an unknown God. 

Having passed a few days in this gloomy manner, en- 
deavoring to cry to God for the light of his countenance, I 

opened my mind to my friend Mrs. S . I observed to 

her, that as the next Sabbath was the time appointed for 
my joining the church, I could not think of its approach 
without trembling ; and that the very naming of the ordi- 
nance of the Lord's Supper caused my blood to chill in my 
veins. She appeared tenderly interested in my trial, and 
told me, that she did not dare advise me to go forward in 
this momentous business with such feelings of horror ; but 
hoped God would enlighten my path of duty, and lead me 
by the side of still waters. 
vol. iv. 30 



]8 CONVERSION OF 

My attention was so engrossed with my sad reverse of 
feelings, that it did not occur to my mind that it was my 
"fleeing from the presence of the Lord," which had raised 
this tempest in my soul. Though my distress seemed 
greater, if possible, than before, yet I could pronounce God 
to be just and good; I felt that he would have been just, 
had he made the blackness of darkness my eternal habita- 
tion ; and his goodness appeared manifest in opening my 
eyes on my real condition, before they were opened to ever- 
lasting disappointment. I often retired for the purpose of 
laying my case before God, and imploring his merciful 
direction with regard to my covenanting with him the en- 
suing Sabbath. But I could not gain access to the mercy- 
seat. The thought of professing religion without the least 
hope of possessing it, threw me into unutterable horror; 
and I resolved not to make the presumptuous attempt. 

Saturday evening, as I sat ruminating on my sorrowful 
state, I viewed myself cut oiF from all my anticipated bliss, 
destined to linger out a miserable existence without God 
and without hope, abhorred by holy beings, lost to all the 
pleasures of time ; an inactive, useless, loathsome being. 
At this thought the question arose in my mind, " Why in- 
active and useless ? Be up and doing in the cause of Christ. 
Other souls are as precious as thine." "Yes," my heart 
replied, " I will be in earnest for God. His cause is glo- 
rious, transcendently glorious ; I will resolutely engage in 
whatever appears to be duty." 

Here I accordingly determined immediately to search 
out duty, and enter upon it with renewed vigor, suffering 
no obstacle to hinder, where it should be made clear and 
plain. 

In my researches, my late resolution of not professing 
Christ occurred, and appeared to lie in'the way of observing 



MRS. ELEANOR EMERSON. 19 

his other holy injunctions. This brought me to resolve 
upon a speedy compliance, even though clouds and dark- 
ness enveloped his throne. I also determined on a strict 
observance of the Sabbath ; on faithfulness to my fellow- 
creatures ; on mortifying all my sinful passions and appe- 
tites ; with a constant watch over my thoughts, words, and 
actions. I determined to do justly, and to love mercy, and 
to walk humbly with God. Here the question struck my 
mind, " Have you that humility which will lead you to 
pray night and morning in your school V u Yes, yes," I 
replied, "even though I should say no more than Lord have 
mercy on us ; and even though I become the ridicule and 
scorn of those I love. I will prostrate myself before God, 
and implore his mercy on perishing rebels." 

The light and joy that burst into my soul at this instant 
appeared as great, unexpected, and glorious, as would be 
the shining of the natural sun at midnight. I could scarcely 
persuade myself that the dark room where I was sitting was 
not enlightened, till I reflected that my eyes were closed. 
All immensity seemed filled with the fulness of God • and 
these words sweetly employed my thoughts : 

" High on a throne his glory dwells, 
An awful throne of shining bliss ; 
Fly through the world, O sun, and tell 
How dark thy beams compared to his !" 

O what majesty and beauty appeared in these words. 
Being alone, I exclaimed aloud, My God is come ! My God 
is come ! I could no longer doubt of the real cause of my 
being left of God. My own pride and obstinacy had forced 
my Saviour from me. The glory and excellency of God's 
character appeared much greater than before. My soul 
was ravished with his goodness, and I could join with the 



20 CONVERSION OF 

Psalmist in saying, " I will extol thee, O Lord, for thou 
hast lifted me up, and hast not made my foes to rejoice over 
me. O Lord, my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast 
healed me. O Lord, thou hast brought up my soul from 
the grave, thou hast kept me alive." 

As Mrs. S entered the room, I observed that I had 

glorious news to tell her. In surprise, she asked who had 
been there to bring good news. " The Comforter," I replied. 
Tears of joy shone in her eyes ; and she proposed to sing a 
hymn of praise to God. I could now heartily call on this 
dear friend to magnify the Lord with me, that we might 
exalt his name together. For I had sought him, and he had 
heard me, and delivered me from all my fears. 

I retired early to bed, that I might obtain necessary rest, 
in order to attend the worship of the sanctuary and give my- 
self to God in an everlasting covenant. But the love of the 
Redeemer was so shed abroad in my soul, that sleep, an un- 
welcome guest, fled from me. Never before did I conceive 
of joy like this. The presence of my dearest Saviour seemed 
to fill my chamber with his glory ; and heaven seemed real- 
ized in my soul. I felt that it was enough. My sickly 
frame could bear no more. I held sensible communion with 
the Father, and with the Son, and with the Holy Spirit. The 
glorious plan of redemption, devised in eternity, appeared 
with resplendent lustre. Well might the brightest choir of 
adoring seraphs "desire to look into" these things, and cry 
with united voices, " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to 
receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and 
honor, and glory, and blessing !" 

Filled with admiration of the divine character and con- 
duct, I spent the greater part of the night without sleep, fear- 
ing to close my eyes, lest I should lose those precious exer- 
cises which so ravished my soul. Though I was willing 



MRS. ELEANOR EMERSON. 21 

" to depart," yet I was ready to imagine that it could not' 
be gain, as the arms of the dear Redeemer seemed already 
to uphold me ; and his presence made a heaven below. 

Just as the day dawned I fell into a gentle slumber; but 
soon awoke in the same pleasing rapture, finding my spirits 
rather exhilarated by sleep. My eyes now opened on a 
day, long, long to be remembered by myself and many 
others, who were about to " subscribe with our hands unto 
the Lord, and surname ourselves by the name of Israel." 
The important transactions of that solemn day may dwell 
on our minds with increasing rapture throughout the ages 
of eternity. Then we shall have a more striking and affect- 
ing view of the transcendent grace which has triumphed 
over so great unworthiness. O the boundless love and 
mercy, which could embrace such sin-hardened, self-ruined 
rebels, and cause us to sing of victorious grace and redeem- 
ing love. 

It pleased the great Physician of soul and body to afford 
me such a measure of health that I was enabled to attend 
worship all day without realizing the least inconvenience 
from bodily indisposition, or even recollecting that I was not 
in perfect health. I enjoyed a comfortable day. 

I had before thought, it would be a severe cross to sub- 
mit to the ordinance of baptism in a land of strangers ; as 
well on account of the ridicule which my young acquaint- 
ance might cast upon me, as for other reasons. But in this 
respect I found myself happily disappointed. Never did I 
perform an act more cheerfully than when I submitted to 
the ordinance. 

The afternoon was principally devoted to the adminis- 
tration of the Lord's Supper. When the candidates stood 
forth, I indulged the thought that astonished angels hovered 
over us, to behold the affecting scene ; to see the youth and 
vol. iv. 30* 



22 CONVERSION OF 

the gray-headed, the illiterate and the learned, rich and 
poor, black and white, all become one in Christ Jesus. 
Here stood all ranks and conditions in life, thirty in number, 
witnessing to the admiring spectators of the manifold power 
and grace of God. The house, in my view, was filled with 
the glory of God ; and my soul was ready to exclaim, 
"How dreadful is this place! this is none other but the 
house of God, and this is the gate of heaven !" 

The spectators seemed filled with fear ; and the language 
of their countenances was, " This is the Lord's doing ; it 
is marvellous in our eyes." 

Among those who united in the ordinance, was a young 
mulatto man, who had previously excited my indignation by 
mixing with others at religious meetings. 1 thought that, in 
his eagerness to hear, he sometimes took the place of his 
betters. I even mentioned to several, that, if some one did 
not check his audacity, I would take the task on myself. 
But here, as we were standing in the same company, on the 
same great business, waiting to receive the same sacred 
ordinance, both poor and unworthy, both equally dependent, 
both craving the same benediction of the same glorious Bene- 
factor, both humbly hoping to receive the same everlasting 
inheritance, through the merits of the same bleeding Re- 
deemer, I was led to ask my heart whether it retained any 
of its former unkindness towards this humble saint. But, so 
far from it, I felt my heart glow with such Christian love 
towards him, that I could as heartily welcome him to my 
Master's family, as if he had been the greatest monarch on 
earth. I could most cheerfully receive him as a dear brother 
in Christ, and rejoice in the impartiality of God, who is no 
respecter of persons. Here the poor, despised, illiterate out- 
cast was called from the highways of sin to a saving ac- 
quaintance with that divine scheme, to which many of the 



MRS. ELEANOR EMERSON. 23 

wise and honorable of the earth, then present, were stran- 
gers. Thus "the Lord of hosts purposed it, to stain the 
pride of all glory, and to bring into contempt all the honor- 
able of the earth." 

While partaking of the memorials of the body that was 
broken, and the blood that was shed for wretched men, 1 
felt that, were I possessor of worlds innumerable, I could 
most joyfully give them all, with myself, into the hand of 
my blessed and glorious Redeemer. 

Language is insufficient to express the joy and consola- 
tion which I felt on this memorable occasion. I endeavored, 
by searching inquiries, to shake my hope, and see if I was 
not encompassing myself about with sparks of my own kind- 
ling. But I could scarcely more doubt my union with the 
Saviour, than he who " was caught up into the third heav- 
ens, and heard unspeakable words, which it is not lawful for 
a man to utter." My communion with God was so manifest 
to my soul as to put it beyond doubt that I was reconciled 
to him. I could now say with abundant assurance, " I 
know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at 
the latter day upon the earth ; and though after my skin 
worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God." 

Through every part of the solemn exercises of this day, 
my heart seemed expanding with love to God and admiration 
of his wonderful goodness to the children of men. O the de- 
lightful employment of worshipping God in his sanctuary ! 
A day, spent in his courts, is better than a thousand, spent, 
as mine have formerly been, in the pursuit of vanity. I 
trust I could now sincerely say, " I had rather be a door- 
keeper in the house of my God, than to dwell in the tents 
of wickedness. For the Lord God is a sun and a shield ; 
the Lord will give grace and glory ; no good thing will he 
withhold from them that walk uprightly." 



24 CONVERSION OF MRS. EMERSON. 

O what a deformed picture does the review of my past 
life present ; how sinful, how unprofitable ! What years of 
happiness have I lost by so long rejecting the dear Imman- 
uel. What advances might I have made in the divine life, 
had I but earjy enlisted under the banner of Christ. What 
services might I have rendered to my perishing fellow-mor- 
tals, instead of helping them on in their way to perdition. 
O let none ever think themselves too young to forsake the 
service of Satan for the delightful employment of serving 
God. Let them consider that every moment they delay 
repentance, they are preparing for themselves sharp-pointed 
arrows, which will sooner or later stick fast in their an- 
guished hearts, and perhaps pierce them through with eternal 
sorrows. What consummate folly is it to reject the highest 
good for the momentary pleasures of sin, when reason and 
Scripture unitedly assure us, that their fruits are disappoint- 
ment, pain, and shame. For a captive in Algiers, groaning 
under galling chains and cruel servitude, to reject the offer 
of freedom, would be wisdom, compared with the conduct 
of those who reject the mild voice of mercy, and despise the 
offered Saviour with his ten thousand excellencies, choosing 
the " way of transgressors," which is " hard," and " the 
wages of sin," which is "death." 



Note. Mrs. Emerson lived, after making a public profession 
of religion, nearly six years, exemplifying the Christian character, 
and giving abundant evidence that her conversion was the work 
of the Holy Spirit upon the heart. At length she fell into a de- 
cline, the symptoms of which had been long apparent, and died 

in the triumphs of faith at L , on the 7th day of November, 

1808. Her last words were, " My Redeemer liveth. Jesus Christ 
is mine, and I am his for ever." 



i\o. 134. 

REASONS FROM THE BIBLE, 

FOR 

BELIEVING THAT 

TEE 

FUTURE PUNISHMENT 

OF THE WICKED WILL BE ENDLESS. 



BY REV. ANDREW FULLER 



Mr. Fuller was requested by a Universalis! to give 
him the reasons why he believed that the future punishment 
of the wicked will be endless ; and he gave him the four 
following : 

I. All those passages of Scripture which describe the fu- 
ture states of men in contrast. 

" Men of the world, who have their portion in this life : 
I shall be satisfied when I awake in thy likeness. — The 
hope of the righteous shall be gladness ; but the expectation 
of the wicked shall perish. — The wicked is driven away in 
his wickedness ; but the righteous hath hope in his death. — 
And many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall 
awake ; some to everlasting life, and some to shame and 
everlasting contempt. — He will gather his wheat into the 
garner ; but will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire. — 
Wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to de- 
struction, and many there be who go in thereat ; because, 
strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, that leadeth unto 
life, and few there be that find it. — Not every one that saith, 
Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven ; but he 
that doeth the will of my Father who is in heaven. — Many 
shall come from the east and from the west, and shall sit 
down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom 



2 FUTURE PUNISHMENT ENDLESS. 

of heaven ; but the children of the kingdom shall be cast 
into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing 
of teeth. — Gather ye first the tares, and bind them in bun- 
dies, to burn them ; but gather the wheat into my barn. — 
The Son of man shall send forth his angels, and they shall 
gather out of his kingdom all things that offend, and them 
that do iniquity, and shall cast them into a furnace of fire ; 
there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth : then shall the 
righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their 
Father. — Well done, good and faithful servant ; enter thou 
into the joy of thy Lord. But cast ye the unprofitable ser- 
vant into outer darkness ; there shall be weeping and gnash- 
ing of teeth. — Then shall the King say unto them on his 
right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the king- 
dom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. — 
Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart 
from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the 
devil and his angels. — And these shall go away into ever- 
lasting punishment ; but the righteous into life eternal. — 
He that believeth and is baptized, shall be saved ; but he 
that believeth not, shall be damned. — Blessed are ye when 
men shall hate you for the Son of man's sake. Rejoice ye 
in that day, and leap for joy ; for behold, your reward is 
great in heaven. But woe unto you that are rich ! for ye 
have received your consolation ! — God so loved the Avorld, 
that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth 
in him, should not perish, but have everlasting life. — All 
that are in their graves shall come forth : they that have 
done good, unto the resurrection of life ; and they that have 
done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation. — Hath not the 
potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one 
vessel unto honor, and another unto dishonor ? What if God, 
willing to show his wrath, and to make his power known, 
endured with much long-suffering the vessels of wrath fitted 
to destruction ; and that he might make known the riches 
of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which he had afore 
prepared unto glory? — The Lord knoweth them that are 
his. — But in a great house there are vessels to honor, and 
vessels to dishonor. — Be not deceived ; God is not mocked : 
for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. For 
he that soweth to the flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption ; 
but he that soweth to the Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life 



FUTURE PUNISHMENT ENDLESS. 3 

everlasting. — That which beareth thorns and briars is re- 
jected, and is nigh unto cursing ; whose end is to be burned. 
But, beloved, we are persuaded to better things of you, and 
things which accompany salvation."* 

I consider these passages as designed to express the 
final states of men, which, if they be, it is the same thing 
in effect as their being designed to express the doctrine of 
endless punishment ; for if the descriptions here given of 
the portion of the wicked denote their final state, there is no 
possibility of another state succeeding it. 

That the above passages do express the final states of 
men, may appear from the following considerations : 

1. The state of the righteous, which is all along opposed 
to that of the wicked, is allowed to be final : and if the other 
were not the same, it would not have been in such a variety 
of forms contrasted with it ; for it would not be a contrast. 

2. All these passages are totally silent as to any other 
state following that of destruction, damnation, etc. If the 
punishment threatened to ungodly men had been only a pur- 
gation, or temporary correction, we might have expected 
that something like this would have been intimated when 
their future state is described ; but nothing like it occurs in 
any of the foregoing passages, nor in any other. 

3. The phraseology of the greater part of them is incon- 
sistent with any other state following that which they de- 
scribe. On the supposition of salvation being appointed as 
the ultimate portion of those who die in their sins, they have 
not their portion in this life ; but will, equally with those 
who die in the Lord, behold his face in righteousness, and be 
satisfied with his likeness. Their expectation shall not per- 
ish ; but shall issue, as well as that of the righteous, in glad- 
ness : and though driven away in their wickedness, yet they 
have hope in their death ; and that hope shall be realized. 
The broad way doth not lead to destruction, but merely to 
a temporary correction, the end of which is everlasting life. 
The chaff will not be burned, but turned into wheat, and 
gathered into the garner. The cursed as well as the blessed 

* Psalm 17 : 14, 15 ; Prov. 10 : 28, 14 : 32 ; Dan. 12 : 2 ; Matt. 
3:12; 7:13, 14, 21; 8:11, 12; 13:30, 41-43; 25:23, 30,34, 
41, 46 ; Mark 16 : 16 ; Luke 6 : 22-24 ; John 3 : 16 ; 5 : 28, 29 ; 
Rom. 9 : 21-23 ; 2 Tim. 2 : 19, 20 ; Gal. 6 : 7, 8 ; Heb. 6 : 8, 9. 
See also Matt. 13 : 47-50 ; 24 : 46-51 ; Luke 6 : 47, 49. 



4 FUTURE PUNISHMENT ENDLESS. 

shall inherit the kingdom of God ; which also was prepared 
for them from the foundation of the world. There may be 
a woe against the wicked, that they shall be kept from their 
consolation for a long time, but not that they have received 
it. Those who in the present life believe not in Christ, shall 
not perish, but have everlasting life. This life also is im- 
properly represented as the seed-time, and the life to come 
as the harvest, inasmuch as the seeds of heavenly bliss may 
be sown in hell ! and though the sinner may reap corrup- 
tion, as the fruit of all his present doings, yet that corruption 
will not be the opposite of everlasting life, seeing it will 
issue in it. Finally, though they bear briars and thorns, 
yet their end is not to be burned, but to obtain salvation. 
To the foregoing Scripture testimonies may be added, 

II. All those passages which speak of the duration of fu- 
ture punishment by the terms "everlasting, eternal, for ever, 
and for ever and ever" 

M Some shall awake to everlasting life, and some to 
shame and everlasting contempt. — It is better for thee to 
enter into life halt or maimed, than having two hands or 
two feet, to be cast into everlasting fire. — Depart, ye cursed, 
into everlasting fire. — And these shall go away into everlast- 
ing punishment. — They shall be punished with everlasting 
destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the 
glory of his power. — He that shall blaspheme against the 
Holy Ghost, is in danger of (or subject to) eternal damna- 
tion. — The inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah are set forth 
for an example, suffering the vengeance of eternal fire. — 
These are wells without water, clouds that are carried with 
a tempest, to whom the mist of darkness is reserved for 
ever. — Wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness 
of darkness for ever. — If any man worship the beast and his 
image, and receive his mark in his forehead, or in his hand, 
the same shall drink of the wine of the wrath of God, which 
is poured out without mixture into the cup of his indigna- 
tion ; and he shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in 
the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the 
Lamb : and the smoke of their torment ascendeth up for 
ever and ever ; and they have no rest day nor night. — And 
they said, Alleluia ! And her smoke rose up for ever and 
ever. — And the devil that deceived them was cast into the 
lake of fire and brimstone, where the beast and the false 



FUTURE PUNISHMENT ENDLESS. 5 

prophet are, and shall be tormented day and night for ever 
and ever."* 

As to the meaning of the terms everlasting, eternal, for 
ever, for ever and ever, I have this simple rule of interpre- 
tation, that every term he taken in its proper sense, except 
there be something in the subject or connection which requires 
it to be taken otherwise ; and as I see nothing of this kind in 
relation to the passages cited, I take them in their plain, 
obvious, and proper acceptation. 

To the above may be added, 

III. All those passages which express the duration of fu- 
ture punishment by implication, or by forms of speech which 
imply the doctrine in question. 

" I pray for them : I pray not for the world. — The blas- 
phemy against the Holy Ghost shall not be forgiven unto 
men, neither in this world, neither in the world to come. — 
He hath never forgiveness ; but is in danger of eternal dam- 
nation. — There is a sin unto death : I do not say that ye 
shall pray for it. — It is impossible to renew them again unto 
repentance. — If we sin wilfully, after we have received the 
knowledge of the truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice 
for sins, but a fearful looking for of judgment, which shall 
devour the adversaries. — What is a man profited, if he shall 
gain the whole world, and lose himself, or be cast away ? — 
Woe unto that man by whom the Son of man is betrayed ! 
it had been good for that man if he had not been born. — 
Their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched. f — Be- 
tween us and you there is a great gulf fixed : so that they 
who would pass from hence to you, cannot ; neither can they 
pass to us, who would come from thence. — He that believeth 
not the Son, shall not see life ; but the wrath of God abideth 
on him. — I go my way, and ye shall seek me, and shall die 
in your sins : whither I go, ye cannot come. — Whose end is 
destruction. — He that showeth no mercy shall have judgment 
without mercy. "% 

* Dan. 12 : 2 ; Matt. 18 : 8 ; 25 : 41, 46 ; 2 Thess. 1:9; Mark 
3 : 29 ; Jude 7 ; 2 Pet. 2 : 17 ; Jude 13 ; Rev. 14 : 9-11 ; 19 : 3 ; 
20 : 10. 

f Several times repeated in a few verses. 

t John 17 : 9 ; Matt. 12 : 31, 32 ; Mark 3 : 29 ; 1 John, 5 : 16 ; 
Heb. 6 : 6 ; 10 : 26, 27 ; Luke 9 : 25 ; Matt. 26 : 24 ; Mark 9 : 
44-48 ; Luke 16 : 26 ; John 3 : 36 ; 8 : 21 ; Phil 3:19; James 2 : 13. 

vol. iv. 31 



6 FUTURE PUNISHMENT ENDLESS. 

If there be some for whom Jesus did not pray, there 
are some who will have no share in the benefits of his 
mediation, without which they cannot be saved. If there 
be some that never will be forgiven, there are some that 
never will be saved ; for forgiveness is an essential branch 
of salvation. Let there be what uncertainty there may in 
the word eternal in this instance, still, the meaning of it is 
fixed by the other branch of the sentence, they shall never 
be forgiven. It is equal to John 10: 28: I give unto them 
eternal life, and they shall never perish. If there were any 
uncertainty as to the meaning of the word eternal in this 
latter passage, yet the other branch of the sentence would 
settle it; for that must be endless life, which is opposed to 
their ever perishing ; and by the same rule, that must be 
endless damnation which is opposed to their ever being for- 
given. If there be a sin, for the pardon of which Christians 
are forbidden to pray, it must be on account of its being the 
revealed will of God, that it never should be pardoned. If 
repentance be absolutely necessary to forgiveness, and there 
be some whom it is impossible should be renewed again unto 
repentance, there are some whose salvation is impossible. 
If there be no more sacrifice for sin, but a fearful looking for 
of judgment, this is the same thing as the sacrifice already 
offered being of no saving effect ; for, if it were otherwise, 
the language would not contain any peculiar threatening 
against the wilful sinner, as it would be no more than might 
be said to any sinner ; nor would a. fearful looking for of 
judgment be his certain doom. If the souls of some men will 
be lost or cast away, they cannot all be saved ; seeing these 
things are opposites. A man may be lost in a desert, and 
yet saved in fact ; or he may suffer loss, and yet himself be 
saved : but he cannot be lost, so as to be cast away, and yet 
finally saved ; for these are perfect contraries. Whatever 
may be the precise idea of theatre, and the worm, there can 
be no doubt of their expressing the punishment of the wick- 
ed ; and its being declared of the one that it dieth not, and 
of the other that it is not quenched, is the same thing as their 
being declared to be endless. It can be said of no man, on 
the principle of universal salvation, that it were good for him 
not to have been born; as whatever he may endure for a 
season, an eternal weight of glory will infinitely outweigh 
it. An impassable gulf between the blessed and the ac- 



FUTURE PUNISHMENT ENDLESS. 7 

cursed, equally militates against the recovery of the one, 
and the relapse of the other. If some shall not see life, but 
the wrath of God abideth on them ; if those who die in their 
sins shall not come where Jesus is; if their end be destruc- 
tion, and their portion be judgment without mercy ; there 
must be some who will not be finally saved. 

To these may be added, 

IV. All those passages which imply that a change of 
heart and a preparation for heaven are, confined to the pres- 
ent life. 

" Seek ye the Lord while he may he found, call ye upon 
him while he is near ; let the wicked forsake his way, and 
the unrighteous man his thoughts ; and let him return unto 
the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him ; and to our God, 
for he will abundantly pardon. — Because I have called and 
ye refused ; I have stretched out my hand, and no man re- 
garded. — I also will laugh at your calamity, and mock when 
your fear cometh. When your fear cometh as desolation, 
and your destruction cometh as a whirlwind ; when distress 
and anguish come upon you ; then shall they call upon me, 
but I will not answer ; they shall seek me early, but shall 
not find me. — Then said one unto him, Lord, are there few 
that shall be saved ? And he said unto him, Strive to enter 
in at the strait gate : for many, I say unto you, shall seek 
to enter in, and shall not be able. When once the master 
of the house hath risen up, and shut to the door, and ye begin 
to stand without, and to knock at the door, saying, Lord, Lord, 
open unto us ; he shall answer and say unto you, I know 
you not whence you are. Depart from me, ye workers of 
iniquity. There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. — 
While ye have light, believe in the light, that ye may be 
the children of light. — While they (the foolish virgins) went 
to buy, the bridegroom came ; and they that were ready 
went in with him to the marriage, and the door was shut. — 
We beseech you, that ye receive not the grace of God in 
vain. Behold, now is the accepted time; now is the day of 
salvation. — To day if ye will hear his voice, harden not 
your hearts. — Looking diligently, lest any man fail of the 
grace of God. — Lest there be any fornicator, or profane per- 
son, as Esau, who for one morsel of meat sold his birthright. 
For ye know how that afterward, when he would have in- 
herited the blessing, he was rejected : for he found no place 



8 FUTURE PUNISHMENT ENDLESS. 

of repentance, though he sought it carefully with tears.— 
He that is unjust, let him be unjust still ; and he that is filthy, 
let him be filthy still ; and he that is righteous, let him be 
righteous still ; and he tftat is holy, let him be holy still."* 

According to these Scriptures, there will be no successful 
calling upon the Lord after a certain period ; and conse- 
quently, no salvation. Whether there be few that shall 
ultimately be saved, our Lord does not inform us ; but he 
assures us that there will be many who will not be saved ; 
or, which is the same thing, who will not be able to enter in 
at the strait gate. None, it is plainly intimated, will be able 
to enter there, who have not agonized here. There will be 
no believing unto salvation, but while we have the light ; nor 
any admission into the kingdom, unless we be ready at the 
coming of the Lord. The present is the accepted time, the 
day of salvation, or the season for sinners to be saved. If 
we continue to harden our hearts through life, he will swear 
in his wrath, that we shall not enter his rest. If we turn 
away from him who speaketh from heaven, it. will be as im- 
possible for us to obtain the blessing, as it was for Esau, 
after he had despised his birthright. Finally, beyond a 
certain period there shall be no more change of character ; 
but every one will have received that impression which shall 
remain for ever, whether he be just or unjust, filthy or holy. 

These are the reasons for believing that the future pun- 
ishment of the wicked will be endless. They are taken 
from the word of God, who knows the truth, and whose word 
will all be accomplished. 

* Isa. 55 : 6, 7 ; Prov. 1 : 24-28 ; Luke 13 : 23-28 ; John 12 : 
36; Matt. 25: 5-13; 2 Cor. 6: 1. 2 ; Heb. 3: 7, 11; 12: 15-17; 
Rev. 22:11. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



\<>. 135. 



THE LIFE 



COL. JAMES GARDINER 




Col. James Gardiner was the son of Captain Patrick 
Gardiner, who served many years in the armies of king 
William and queen Anne, and died abroad with the British 
forces in Germany. 

The colonel's mother was a lady of very excellent 
character, but it pleased God to exercise her with uncom- 
mon trials ; for she lost not only her husband and her brother 
in the service of their country, but also her eldest son, Mr. 
R. Gardiner, on the day which completed his 16th year, at 
the siege of Namur, in 1695. But God blessed these afflic- 
tions as the means of her attaining an eminent degree of 



piety. 

VOL. IV. 



31* 



2 LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 

The second son, the subject of this memoir, was born in 
Linlithgowshire, January 10, 1687-8 : the memorable year 
of the Revolution, in defence of which his own life was 
eventually sacrificed. 

In early life, his mother took care to instruct him with 
great tenderness and affection in the principles of true Chris- 
tianity. While at the school of Linlithgow, he made a con- 
siderable progress in literature. 

In the younger part of his life, the good effects of his 
mother's prudent and exemplary care were not so conspicu- 
ous as she hoped ; yet there is great reason to believe they 
were not entirely lost. Could she have prevailed, he would 
not have thought of a military life : but it suited his taste ; 
and the ardor of his spirit, animated by the persuasions of 
a friend who greatly urged it, was not to be restrained. Nor 
will the reader wonder at this, when he knows that this lively 
youth fought three duels before he had attained the full 
stature of a man ; in one of which he received a wound in 
his right cheek, the scar of which was always very appar- 
ent. This false sense of honor some might think excusa- 
ble in those unripened years, and considering the profession 
of his father ; but he often mentioned it with regret. And 
after his conversion, he declined accepting a challenge with 
this truly great reply, which, in a man of his experienced 
bravery, was exceedingly graceful: "I fear sinning," said 
he, " though you know I do not fear fighting." 

He served as a cadet very early ; and at the age of four- 
teen, bore an ensign's commission in a Scotch regiment in 
the Dutch service ; in which he continued till 1702, when 
he received an ensign's commission from Queen Anne, 
which he bore in the battle of Ramilies, in his nineteenth 
year. 

On this occasion our young officer was commanded on 
what seemed almost a desperate service — to dispossess the 



LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 3 

French of the churchyard at Ramilies, where a considera- 
ble number of them were posted to remarkable advantage. 
They succeeded better than was expected, and he was glad 
of such an opportunity of signalizing himself. Accordingly, 
he had planted his colors on an advanced ground, and while 
he was calling to the men — probably in that horrid language 
which is so often a disgrace to our soldiery — he received a 
shot in his mouth, which, without beating out any of his 
teeth, or touching the forepart of his tongue, went through 
his neck. Not feeling at first the pain of the stroke, he 
wondered what was become of the ball, and in the wildness 
of his surprise began to suspect he had swallowed it ; but, 
dropping soon after, he traced the passage of it by his finger, 
when he could discover it no other way. 

This occurrence happened about five or six o'clock in 
the evening of May 23, 1706 ; and the army pursuing its 
advantages against the French, without regarding the wound- 
ed, our young officer lay all night in the field, agitated, as 
may well be supposed, with a great variety of thoughts. 
When he reflected upon the circumstances of his wound, 
that a ball should, as he then conceived it, go through his 
head without killing him, he thought God had preserved him 
by a miracle ; and therefore assuredly concluded that he 
should live, abandoned and desperate as his condition then 
seemed. Yet had he little thoughts of humbling himself 
before God, and returning to him after the wanderings of a 
life so licentiously begun. But hoping he should recover, 
his mind was taken up with contrivances to secure his gold, 
of which he had nearly twenty pistoles about him, and he 
had recourse to a very odd expedient. Expecting to be 
stripped, he took out a handful of clotted gore, of which he 
was frequently obliged to clear his mouth ; and putting it 
into his left hand, he took out his money, and shutting his 
hand, besmeared the back of it with his blood : in this po- 



4 LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 

sition he kept it, till the blood so dried, that his hand could 
not easily fall open. 

In the morning, the French, who were masters of that 
spot, though defeated at some distance, came to plunder the 
slain ; and seeing him to appearance almost expiring, one of 
them was just applying a sword to his breast, to destroy the 
little remainder of life, when, in the critical moment, a cor- 
delier, who attended them, interposed, taking him by his 
dress for a Frenchman, and said, " Do not kill the poor 
child." Our young soldier heard all that passed, though 
he was not able to speak one word ; and opening his eyes, 
made a sign for something to drink. They gave him a sup 
of some spirituous liquor, which happened to be at hand ; 
from which he said he derived a more sensible refreshment 
than he could remember from any thing he had tasted, either 
before or since. Then asking, by signs, the friar to lean 
down his ear to his mouth, he employed the first efforts of 
his feeble breath in telling him — what, alas, was a contrived 
falsehood — that he was nephew to the governor of Huy, a 
neutral town in the neighborhood, and that, if they could 
convey him thither, he did not doubt but his uncle would 
liberally reward them. He had indeed a friend there, but 
the relationship was pretended. However, on hearing this, 
they laid him on a sort of hand-barrow, and sent him with 
a file of musqueteers towards the place ; but the men lost 
their way, and got into a wood towards the evening, in which 
they were obliged to continue all night. The poor patient's 
w r ound being still undressed, it is not to be wondered at, that 
by this time it raged violently. The anguish of it engaged 
him earnestly to beg that they would either kill him out- 
right, or leave hirn there to die, without the torture of any 
other motion ; and indeed they were obliged to rest for a 
considerable time, on account of their own weariness. Thus 
he spent the second night in the open air, without any thing 



LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 5 

more than a common bandage to stanch the blood, and he 
often mentioned it as a most astonishing providence, that he 
did not bleed to death. 

Judging it quite unsafe to attempt carrying him to Huy, 
whence they were now several miles distant, his convoy 
took him early in the morning to a convent in the neighbor- 
hood, where he was hospitably received, and treated with 
great kindness and tenderness. But the cure of his wound 
was committed to an ignorant barber-surgeon, who lived 
near the house. The tent which this artist applied, was al- 
most like a peg driven in the wound ; yet, by the blessing 
of God, he recovered in a few months. The lady-abbess, 
who called him her son, treated him with the affection and 
care of a mother. He received a great many devout admo- 
nitions from the ladies there, and they would fain have per- 
suaded him to acknowledge so miraculous a deliverance, by 
embracing the Catholic faith, as they were pleased to call 
it. But, though no religion lay near his heart, he had too 
much the spirit of a gentleman, lightly to change that form 
of religion which he wore loose about him, as well as too 
much good sense to swallow the absurdities of popery. 

When his liberty was regained by an exchange of pris- 
oners, and his health established, he was far from render- 
ing to the Lord according to the mercy he had experienced. 
Very little is known of the particulars of those wild and 
thoughtless years which lay between the nineteenth and 
thirtieth of his life ; except, that he experienced the divine 
goodness in preserving him in several hot military actions ; 
and yet these years were spent in an entire alienation from 
God, and an eager pursuit of sensual pleasure as his su- 
preme good. 

Amidst all these wanderings from religion, virtue, and 
happiness, he approved himself so well in his military char- 
acter, that he was made a lieutenant in 1708 ; and, after 



(J LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 

several immediate promotions, appointed major of a regiment 
commanded by the Earl of Stair. In January, 1729-30, he 
was advanced to the rank of lieutenant-colonel in the same 
regiment ; and here continued till April, 1743, when he re- 
ceived a colonel's commission over a regiment of dragoons, 
at the head of which he valiantly fell, about two years and 
a half after he received it. 

We now return to that period of his life which passed at 
Paris, where he resided in the family of the Earl of Stair, 
with some interruptions, till about the year 1720. 

The Earl's favor and generosity made him easy in his 
affairs, though he was part of the time out of commission, 
the regiment to which he belonged being disbanded. This 
was, in all probability, the gayest part of his life, and the 
most criminal. Whatever good examples he might find in 
the family where he lived, it is certain that the French court 
was one of the most dissolute under heaven. What, by 
a wretched abuse of language, have been called intrigues 
of love and gallantry, constituted, if not the whole business, 
at least the whole happiness of his life ; and his fine consti- 
tution, than which, perhaps, there, was hardly ever a better, 
gave him great opportunities of indulging himself in those 
excesses ; while his good spirits enabled him to pursue his 
pleasures in such a manner that multitudes envied him, and 
called him, by a dreadful kind of compliment, " The Happy 
Rake." 

Yet the checks of conscience, and some remaining prin- 
ciples of a good education, would break in upon the most 
licentious hours ; and when some of his dissolute compan- 
ions were once congratulating him upon his felicity, a dog 
happening at that time to come into the room, he could not 
forbear groaning inwardly, and saying to himself, " Oh 
that I were that dog !" Such was then his happiness, and 
such, perhaps, is that of hundreds more, who bear them- 



LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 7 

selves highest in the contempt of religion, and glory in that 
infamous servitude which they affect to call liberty. 

Yet in the most abandoned days he was never fond of 
intemperate drinking, from which he used to think a manly 
pride might be sufficient to preserve persons of sense and 
spirit ; so that, if he ever fell into any excesses of that kind, 
it was merely out of complaisance. His frank, obliging, and 
generous temper, procured him many friends ; and those 
principles which rendered him amiable to others, not being 
under the direction of wisdom and piety, sometimes made 
him more uneasy to himself than he perhaps might have 
been, if he could entirely have outgrown them ; especially 
as he was never a sceptic in his heart, but still retained a 
secret apprehension, that natural and revealed religion was 
founded in truth. With this conviction, his notorious viola- 
tions of the most essential precepts of both, could not but 
occasion some secret misgivings of heart. His continual 
neglect of the great Author of his being, of whose perfections 
he could not doubt, and to whom he knew himself to be un- 
der daily and perpetual obligations, gave him, in some mo- 
ments of involuntary reflection, inexpressible remorse ; and 
this, at times, wrought upon him to such a degree, that he 
resolved he would attempt to make some pious acknowledg- 
ments. Accordingly, for a few mornings he did it, repeat- 
ing, in retirement, some passages out of the Psalms, and 
other Scriptures, which he still retained in his memory ; 
and owning, in a few strong words, the many mercies and 
deliverances he had received, and the ill returns he had 
made for them. 

But these strains were too devout to continue long, in a 
heart as yet unsanctified ; for how readily soever he could 
repeat such acknowledgments of the divine power and good- 
ness, and confess his own follies and faults, he was stopped 
short by the remonstrances of his conscience, as to the fla- 



8 LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 

grant absurdity of confessing sins he did not desire to for- 
sake, and of pretending to praise God for his mercies, when 
he did not endeavor to live in his service. A model of de- 
votion, where such sentiments made no part, his good sense 
could not digest ; and the use of such language before a 
heart-searching God, merely as a hypocritical form, while 
the sentiments of his soul were contrary to it, appeared to 
him such daring profaneness, that, irregular as the state of 
his mind was, the thought of it struck him with horror. He, 
therefore, determined to make no more attempts of this sort; 
and was perhaps one of the first that deliberately laid aside 
prayer, from some sense of God's omniscience, and some 
natural principle of honor and conscience. 

These secret debates with himself, and ineffectual efforts, 
would sometimes return ; but they were overborne, again and 
again, by the force of temptation ; and it is no wonder that 
in consequence of them his heart grew still harder. Neither 
was it softened or awakened by the very memorable de- 
liverances which at this time he received. Once he was in 
extreme danger from a fall from his horse. While riding 
fast down a hill, he was thrown over the horse's head, and 
the horse pitched over him ; so that when he rose, the beast 
lay beyond him, and almost dead. Yet, though he received 
not the least harm, it made no serious impression on his 
mind. In his return from England in the packet-boat, but 
a few weeks after the former accident, a violent storm, that 
drove them up to Harwich, tossed them from thence for sev- 
eral hours, in a dark night, on the coast of Holland ; and 
brought them into such extremity, that the captain of the 
vessel urged him to go to prayers immediately, if he ever 
intended to do it at all ; for he concluded they would in a 
few minutes be at the bottom of the sea. In these circum- 
stances he did pray, and that very fervently too ; and it was 
remarkable, that while he was crvine to God for deliver- 



LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 9 

ance, the wind fell, and quickly after, they arrived" at Calais. 
But he was so little affected with what had befallen him, 
that, when some of his gay friends, on hearing the story, 
rallied him upon the efficacy of his prayers, he excused 
himself from the scandal of being thought much in earnest, 
by saying, "that it was at midnight, an hour when his good 
mother and aunt were asleep, or else he should have left 
that part of the business to them." 

We now come to the account of his conversion. This 
memorable event happened towards the middle of July, 
1719. He had spent the evening, which was the Sabbath, 
in some gay company, and had an unhappy assignation with 
a married lady, whom he was to attend exactly at twelve. 
The company broke up about eleven ; and he went into his 
chamber to kill the tedious hour. It happened that he took 
up a religious book, which his good mother or aunt had, 
without his knowledge, slipped into his portmanteau, called, 
" The Christian Soldier, or Heaven taken by Storm ;" writ- 
ten by Mr. Thomas Watson. Guessing, by the title, that 
he should find some phrases of his own profession spiritual- 
ized, in a manner which might afford him some diversion, 
he resolved to dip into it ; but took no serious notice of any 
thing he read : and yet, while this book was in his hand, an 
impression was made upon his mind — perhaps God only 
knows how — which drew after it a train of the most impor- 
tant and happy consequences. 

Suddenly he thought he saw an unusual blaze of light 
fall on the book while he was reading, which he at first 
imagined might have happened by some accident in the 
candle. But lifting up his eyes, he apprehended, to his ex- 
treme amazement, that there was before him, as it were 
suspended in the air, a visible representation of the Lord 
Jesus Christ upon the cross, surrounded with a glory ; 
and was impressed as if a voice, or something equivalent to 

vol. iv. 82 



10 LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 

a voice, had come to him, to this effect : " O sinner, did 1 
suffer this for thee, and are these the returns V* But whether 
this were an audible voice, or only a strong impression on 
his mind, equally striking, he did not seem confident, though 
he judged it to be the former. Struck with so amazing a 
phenomenon, there remained hardly any life in him, so that 
he sunk down in the arm-chair in which he sat, and con- 
tinued, he knew not exactly how long, insensible ; and when 
he opened his eyes, saw nothing more than usual. 

It may be easily supposed that he was in no condition 
to make any observation upon the time in which he had 
remained insensible ; nor did he, throughout all the remain- 
der of the night, once recollect that criminal assignation 
which had before engrossed all his thoughts. He arose, in 
a tumult of passions not to be conceived, and walked to and 
fro in his chamber till he was ready to drop down, in unut- 
terable astonishment and agony of heart ; appearing to him- 
self the vilest monster in the creation of God, who had all 
his lifetime been crucifying Christ afresh by his sins, and 
now saw, as he assuredly believed, by a miraculous vision, 
the horror of what he had done. With this was connected 
such a view, both of the majesty and goodness of God, as 
caused him to loathe and abhor himself, and to " repent as 
in dust and ashes." He immediately gave judgment against 
himself, that he was worthy of eternal damnation ; was as- 
tonished that he was not immediately struck dead in the 
midst of his wickedness ; and — which deserves particular 
remark — though he assuredly believed that he should ere 
long be in hell, and settled it as a point with himself, for 
some months, that the wisdom and justice of God did most 
necessarily require that such an enormous sinner should be 
made an example of everlasting vengeance, and a spectacle 
as such both to angels and men, so that he hardly durst pre- 
sume to pray for pardon ; yet, what he then suffered was 



LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 



11 



not so much from the fear of hell, though he concluded it 
must soon be his portion, as from a sense of the horrible 
ingratitude he had shown to the God of his life, and to that 
blessed Redeemer who had been in so affecting a manner 
set forth as crucified before him. 

In this view, it may naturally be inferred that he passed 
the remainder of the night waking ; and he could get but 
little rest in several that followed. His mind was contin- 
ually taken up in reflecting on the divine purity and good- 
ness ; the grace which had been proposed to him in the 
Gospel, and which he had rejected ; the singular advantages 
he had enjoyed and abused ; and the many favors of Provi- 
dence he had received, particularly in rescuing him from so 
many imminent dangers of death, which he now saw must 
have been attended with such dreadful and hopeless destruc- 
tion. The privileges of his education, which he had so 
much despised, lay with an almost insupportable weight on 
his mind ; and the folly of that career of sinful pleasure, 
which he had so many years been running with desperate 
eagerness, filled him with indignation against himself, and 
against the great deceiver, by whom — to use his own phrase 
— he had been so " wretchedly and scandalously befooled. n 
The mind of Col. Gardiner continued from this remark- 
able time, rather more than three months, but especially 
the first two of them, in a very extraordinary state. He 
knew nothing of the joys arising from a sense of pardon ; 
but, on the contrary, for the greater part of that time, and 
with very short intervals of hope towards the end of it, took 
it for granted that he must in all probability quickly perish. 
Nevertheless, he had such a sense of the evil of sin, the 
goodness of the Divine Being, and of the admirable tend- 
ency of the Christian revelation, that he resolved to spend 
the remainder of his life, while God continued him out of 
hell, in as rational and useful a manner as he could ; and 



12 LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 

to continue casting himself at the feet of Divine Mercy 
every day, and often in a day, if peradventure there might 
be hope of pardon, of which all that he could say was, that 
he did not absolutely despair. 

He had at that time such a sense of the degeneracy of 
his own heart that he hardly durst form any determinate 
resolution against sin, or pretend to engage himself by any 
vow, in the presence of God ; but was continually crying 
to him, that he would deliver him from the bondage of cor- 
ruption. He perceived in himself a most surprising alter- 
ation with regard to the dispositions of his heart ; so that, 
though he felt little of the delight of religious duties, he 
extremely desired opportunities of being engaged in them : 
and those licentious pleasures which had before been his 
heaven, were now absolutely his aversion, and he was 
grieved to see human nature, even in those to whom he was 
a stranger, prostituted to such low and contemptible pursuits. 
He therefore exerted his natural courage in a new kind of 
combat, and became an open advocate for religion, in all its 
principles, so far as he was acquainted with them, and all 
its precepts, relating to sobriety, righteousness, and godli- 
ness. Yet he was very desirous and cautious that he might 
not run into an extreme ; and made it one of his first peti- 
tions to God, the very day after these amazing impressions 
had been wrought in his mind, that he might not be suffered 
to behave with such an affected strictness and preciseness 
as would lead others about him into mistaken notions of 
religion, and expose it to reproach or suspicion, as if it were 
an unlovely or uncomfortable thing. For this reason, he 
endeavored to appear as cheerful in conversation, as he con- 
scientiously could ; though, in spite of all his precautions, 
some traces of that deep, inward sense which he had of his 
guilt and misery would at times appear. 

He made no secret of it, however, that his views were 



LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. J3 

entirely changed, though he concealed the particular cir- 
cumstance attending that change. He told his most inti- 
mate companions freely, that he had reflected on the course 
of life in which he had so long joined them, and found it 
to be folly and madness, unworthy a rational creature, and 
much more unworthy persons calling themselves Christians. 
And he set up his standard, upon all occasions, against infi- 
delity and vice, as determinately as ever he planted his col- 
ors in the field. There was at that time in Paris a certain 
lady who had imbibed the principles of deism, and valued 
herself much upon being an avowed advocate for them. 
Col. Gardiner, with his usual frankness, though with that 
politeness which was habitual to him, answered like a man 
who perfectly saw through the fallacy of her arguments, 
and was grieved to the heart for her delusion. On this, she 
challenged him to debate the matter at large, and to fix upon 
a day for that purpose, when he should dine with her, attend- 
ed with any clergyman he might choose. A sense of duty 
would not allow him to decline this challenge ; and yet he 
had no sooner accepted it, than he was thrown into great 
perplexity and distress, lest, being only a Christian of six 
weeks old, he should prejudice so good a cause by his un- 
skilful manner of defending it. However, he sought his ref- 
uge in earnest and repeated prayers to God, that he would 
graciously enable him, on this occasion, to vindicate his 
truths in a manner which might carry conviction along with 
it. He then endeavored to marshal the arguments in his 
own mind as well as he could ; and apprehending that he 
could not speak with so much freedom before a number of 
persons, especially before those whose province he might in 
that case seem to invade, he waited on the lady alone upon 
the day appointed. 

He opened the conference with a view of such arguments 
of the Christian religion as he had digested in his own mind, 
vol. iv. 32* 



14 LITE OF COL. GARDINER. 

to prove that the apostles were not mistaken themselves, and 
that they could not have intended to impose upon us, in the 
' accounts they give of the grand facts they attest j with the 
truth of which facts that of the Christian religion is most 
apparently connected. And it was a great encouragement 
to him to find that, unaccustomed as he was to discourses 
of this nature, he had an unusual command both of thought 
and expression ; so that he recollected and uttered every 
thing as he could have wished.. The lady heard with atten- 
tion, till he had finished his design and waited for her reply. 
She then produced some of her objections, which he can- 
vassed in such a manner, that at length she burst into tears, 
allowed the force of his arguments and replies, and appeared, 
for some time after, so deeply impressed with the conversa- 
tion, that it was observed by several of her friends ; and 
there is reason to believe that the impression continued, at 
least so far as to prevent her from ever appearing under the 
character of an unbeliever or a sceptic. 

This is only one among many of the battles he was 
almost daily called out to fight in the cause of religion and 
virtue. The continual railleries with which he was received, 
in almost all companies where he had been most familiar 
before, often distressed him beyond measure ; so that he de- 
clared, he would much rather have marched up to a battery 
of the enemy's cannon, than have been obliged, so continu- 
ally as he was, to face such artillery as this. But, like a 
brave soldier in the first action wherein he is engaged, he 
continued resolute, though shuddering at the terror of the 
assault, and quickly overcame those impressions which it is 
not, perhaps, in nature wholly to avoid. In a word, he went 
on, as every Christian by divine grace may do, till he turned 
ridicule and opposition into respect and veneration. 

Within about two months after his first memorable 
change, he began to perceive some secret dawnings of more 



LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 15 

cheerful hope, that, vile as he then saw himself to be, he 
might nevertheless obtain mercy through a Redeemer ; and 
at length, about the end of October, 1719, he found all tne 
burden of his mind taken off at once by the powerful im- 
pression of that memorable scripture upon his mind, Rom. 
3 : 25, 26 : " Whom God hath set forth for a propitiation, 
through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for 
the remission of sins — that he might be just, and the justifier 
of him that believeth in Jesus." He had used to imagine, 
that the justice of God required the damnation of so enor- 
mous a sinner as he saw himself to be ; but now he was 
made deeply sensible that the divine justice might be not 
only vindicated, but glorified, in saving him by the blood of 
Jesus, even that blood which cleanseth from all sin. He 
was led to see and feel the riches' of redeeming love and 
grace, in such a manner as not only engaged him, with the 
utmost pleasure and confidence, to venture his soul upon 
them, but even swallowed up, as it were, his whole heart in 
the returns of love, which, from that blessed time, became 
the genuine and delightful principle of obedience, and ani- 
mated him with an enlarged heart to run the ways of God's 
commandments. 

Thus God was pleased — as he himself used to speak — in 
an hour to turn his captivity. All the terrors of his former 
state were turned into unutterable joy. And though the 
first ecstasies of it afterwards subsided into a more calm and 
composed delight, yet were the impressions so deep and so 
permanent, that he declared, on the word of a Christian, 
wonderful as it might seem, that for about seven years after 
this, he enjoyed nearly a heaven upon earth. His soul was 
almost continually filled with a sense of the love of God in 
Christ ; so that from the time of his waking in the morning, 
his heart was rising to God, and triumphing in him ; and 
these thoughts attended him through all the day, till he lay 



16 LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 

down on his bed again, and a short parenthesis of sleep — for 
it was but a very short one that he allowed himself — invig- 
orated his animal powers for renewing those thoughts with 
greater intenseness and sensibility. 

A life, any thing like this, could not be entered upon, in 
the midst of such company as he was obliged to keep, with- 
out great opposition. He, however, early began a practice, 
which to the last day of his life he retained, of reproving 
vice and profaneness ; and was never afraid to debate the 
matter with any, under the consciousness of such superiority 
in the goodness of his cause. 

A remarkable instance of this happened about the mid- 
dle of the year 1720, on his first return to make any con- 
siderable abode in England after his remarkable change. 
He had heard on the other side of the water, that it was 
currently reported among his companions at home, that he 
was stark mad — a report at which no reader, who knows 
the wisdom of the world in these matters, will be much sur- 
prised. He hence concluded that he should have many 
battles to fight, and was willing to despatch the business as 
fast as he could. And therefore, being to spend a few days 
at the country-house of a person of distinguished rank, with 
whom he had been very intimate, he begged the favor of 
him that he would contrive matters so, that a day or two 
after he came down, several of their former gay companions 
might meet at his Lordship's table ; that he might have an 
opportunity of making his apology to them, and acquainting 
them with the nature and reasons of his change. It was 
accordingly agreed to ; and a pretty large company met on 
the day appointed, with previous notice that Col. Gardiner 
would be there. A good deal of raillery passed at dinner, 
to which the colonel made very little answer. But when 
the cloth was taken away, and the servants had retired, he 
begged their patience for a few minutes, and then plainly 



LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 17 

and seriously told them what notions he entertained of virtue 
and religion, and on what considerations he had absolutely 
determined that, by the grace of God, he would make these 
things the care and business of his life, whatever he might 
lose by it, and whatever censure and contempt he might 
incur. He well knew how improper it was in such com- 
pany to relate the extraordinary manner in which he was 
awakened, which they would probably have interpreted as 
a demonstration of lunacy, against all the gravity and solid- 
ity of his discourse ; but he contented himself with such a 
rational defence of a righteous, sober, and godly life, as he 
knew none of them could with any shadow of reason con- 
test. He then challenged them to propose any thing they 
could urge, to prove that a life of irreligjon and debauchery 
was preferable to the fear, love, and worship of the eternal 
God, and a conduct agreeable to the precepts of his Gospel. 
And he failed not to bear his testimony from his own expe- 
rience — to one part of which many of them had been wit- 
nesses — that, after having run the round of sensual pleasure, 
with all the advantages the best constitution and spirits could 
give him, he had never tasted any thing deserving to be 
called happiness, till he made religion his refuge and de- 
light. He testified, calmly and boldly, the habitual serenity 
and peace that he now felt in his own breast, and the com- 
posure and pleasure with which he looked forward to objects 
which the gayest sinner must acknowledge to be equally 
unavoidable and dreadful. 

Upon this, the master of the table, a person of a very 
frank and candid disposition, cut short the debate by saying, 
" Come, let us call another cause : we thought this man 
mad, and he is in good earnest proving that we are so." 
On the whole, this well-judged circumstance saved him a 
good deal of further trouble. When his former acquaint- 
ances observed that he was still conversable and innocently 



18 LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 

cheerful, and that he was immovable in his resolution, they 
desisted from further importunity. And he declared, that 
instead of losing one valuable friend by this change in his 
character, he found himself much more esteemed and re- 
garded by many who could not persuade themselves to imi- 
tate his example. 

Nothing remarkable occurred in the colonel's life from 
this period till the year 1726, when he married the lady 
Frances Erskine, daughter to the Earl of Buchan, by whom 
he had thirteen children, five of whom survived their father. 

Before the close of these short memoirs, it may not be 
improper, or without its use, to give the reader a sketch of 
the character of this excellent man with reference to his par- 
ticular relative situations ; in some one or other of which the 
reader may certainly find a model worthy of his imitation. 

To view him first in the calmness of domestic ?/fe, and 
at the head of his affectionate family — it will naturally be 
supposed, that as soon as he had a house, he erected an altar 
in it ; that the word of God was read there, and prayers and 
praises constantly offered. These were not to be omitted 
on account of any guest ; for he esteemed it a part of due 
respect to those that remained under his roof, to take it for 
granted they would look upon it as a very bad compliment, 
to imagine they would have been obliged by his neglecting 
the duties of religion on their account. As his family in- 
creased, he had a minister statedly resident in his house, 
who discharged the offices of tutor and chaplain ; and was 
always treated with kindness and respect. He was con- 
stant in his attendance on public worship, in which exem- 
plary care was taken that the children and servants might 
accompany the heads of the family. 

The necessity of being so many months together distant 
from home, prevented him from taking part in several of 



LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 19 

those condescending labors connected with the education of 
his children in early life, which, to a soul so benevolent, so 
wise, and so zealous, would undoubtedly have afforded a 
very exquisite pleasure: but when he was with them,. he 
failed not to instruct and admonish them ; and the constant 
deep sense with which he spoke of divine things, and the 
real, unaffected indifference which he always showed for 
-what this vain world is most ready to admire, were daily 
lessons of wisdom and of piety. And it was easy to per- 
ceive, that the openings of genius in the young branches of 
his family gave him great delight, and that he had a secret 
ambition to see them excel in what they undertook. Yet, 
he was very jealous over his heart, lest he should be too 
fondly attached to them, and was an eminent proficient in 
the blessed science of resignation to the Divine will. 

To consider him in his military character — his bravery 
was as remarkable in the field of battle, as his milder virtues 
in the domestic circle : and he was particularly careful to 
prevent the various duties of religion and his profession from 
interfering with one another, either in himself or in others. 
He therefore abhorred every thing that should look like a 
contrivance to keep the soldiers employed about their horses 
and their arms at the season of public worship ; far from 
that, he used to have them drawn up just before it began, 
and from the parade they went off to the house of God, 
where they behaved with as much reverence, gravity, and 
decorum, during the time of divine service, as any of their 
fellow- worshippers. 

That his remarkable care to maintain good discipline 
among them might be the more effectual, he made himself on 
all occasions accessible to them, and expressed a great con- 
cern for their interest, temporal as well as spiritual ; yet he 
had all the firmness requisite to the infliction of punishment 
where he judged it necessary. 



20 LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 

Wc may notice one instance of his conduct, which hap- 
pcned at Leicester. While part of his regiment was en- 
camped in that neighborhood, the colonel went unknown to 
the camp, in the middle of the night ; for sometimes he 
lodged at his quarters in the town. One of the sentinels 
had abandoned his post, and, on being seized, broke out into 
some oaths and profane execrations against those that dis- 
covered him — a crime of which the colonel had the greatest 
abhorrence, and on which he never failed to animadvert. 
The man afterwards appeared much ashamed and concerned 
for what he had done. But the colonel ordered him to be 
brought up early the next morning to his own quarters, 
where he had prepared a piquet, on which he appointed him 
a private sort of penance ; and while he was put upon it, he 
discoursed with him seriously and tenderly upon the evils 
and aggravations of his fault, admonishing him of the Divine 
displeasure which he had incurred ; and then urged him to 
argue, from the pain which he then felt, how infinitely more 
dreadful it must be to " fall into the hands of the living 
God," and to meet the terrors of that damnation which he 
had been accustomed impiously to call upon himself and 
his companions. The result of this proceeding was, that the 
offender accepted his punishment, not only with submission, 
but with thankfulness ; and spoke of it some years after in 
such a manner, that there seemed reason to hope it had been 
instrumental in producing a change in his heart, as well as 
in his life. 

Indeed, this excellent officer always expressed the great- 
est reverence for the name of the blessed God, and endeav- 
ored to suppress, and, if possible, to extirpate that detestable 
sin of swearing and cursing, which is everywhere so com- 
mon, and especially among military men. He often de- 
clared his sentiments with respect to this enormity, at the 
head of the regiment, and urged his captains and their sub- 



LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 21 

alterns to take the greatest care that they did not give the 
sanction of their example to that which, by their office, they 
were obliged to punish in others. His zeal on these occa- 
sions wrought in a very active, and sometimes in a remark- 
ably successful manner, among not only his equals, but his 
superiors too. 

Nor was his chanty less conspicuous than his zeal. The 
lively and tender feelings of his heart engaged him to dis- 
pense his bounties with a liberal hand ; and, above all, his 
sincere and ardent love to the Lord Jesus Christ led him 
to feel, with a true sympathy, the concerns of his poor mem- 
bers. In consequence of this, he honored several of his 
friends with commissions for the relief of the poor ; and 
esteemed it an honor which Providence conferred upon him, 
that he should be made the Lord's almoner for the relief 
of such. 

That heroic contempt of death, which had often discov- 
ered itself in the midst of former dangers, was manifested 
now in his discourse with several of his most intimate friends. 
And as he had in former years often expressed a desire, 
" that if it were the will of God, he might have some honor- 
able call to sacrifice his life in defence of religion and the 
liberties of his country;" so when it appeared to him most 
probable that he might be called to it immediately, he met 
the summons with the greatest readiness. This appears 
from a letter which he wrote only eight days before his 
death : " The enemy," says he, " are advancing to cross the 
Frith ; but I trust in the almighty God, who doeth whatso- 
ever he pleases in the armies of heaven, and among the 
inhabitants of the earth." 

These sentiments wrought in him to the last, in the most 

effectual manner. But he was ordered to march as fast as 

possible to Dunbar, and that hasty retreat, in concurrence 

with the news which they soon after received of the surren- 

vol. iv. 33 



22 LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 

der of Edinburgh to the enemy, struck a visible panic into 
both the regiments of dragoons. This affected the colonel 
so much, that, on Thursday before the fatal action of Pres- 
ton-Pans, he intimated to an officer of considerable rank, that 
he expected the event would be as in fact it proved ; and to 
a person who visited him, he said. " I cannot influence the 
conduct of others as I could wish, but I have one life to sac- 
rifice to my country's safety, and I shall not spare it." 

On Friday, September 20, the day before the battle 
which transmitted him to his immortal crown, when the 
whole army was drawn up about noon, the colonel rode 
through all the ranks of his own regiment, addressing them 
at once in the most respectful and animating manner, both 
as soldiers and as Christians, to engage them to exert them- 
selves courageously in the service of their country, and to 
neglect nothing that might have a tendency to prepare them 
for whatever event might happen. They seemed much 
affected with the address. 

He continued all night under arms, wrapped up in his 
cloak, and sheltered under a rick of barley which happened 
to be in the field. About three in the morning, he called 
his domestic servants to him, of whom there were four in 
waiting. He dismissed three of them with the most affec- 
tionate Christian advice, and such solemn charges relative 
to the performance of their duty, and care of their souls, as 
seemed plainly to intimate that he apprehended he was tak- 
ing his last farewell of them. There is great reason to be- 
lieve that he spent the little remainder of time, which could 
not be much above an hour, in those devout exercises of 
soul which had so long been habitual to him. The army 
was alarmed at break of day by the noise of the enemy's 
approach, and the attack was made before sunrise. As 
soon as the enemy came within gunshot, they commenced 
a furious fire ; and the dragoons, which constituted the left 



LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 23 

wing, immediately fled. The colonel, at the beginning of 
the attack, which in the whole lasted but a few minutes, 
received a bullet in his left breast, which made him give a 
sudden spring in his saddle ; upon which his servant, who 
had led the horse, would have persuaded him to retreat ; 
but he said it was only a wound in the flesh, and fought 
on, though he presently received a shot in the right thigh. 
The colonel was, for a few moments, supported by his men, 
and particularly by about fifteen dragoons, who stood by him 
to the last. But after a faint fire, the regiment in general 
was seized with a panic ; and though the colonel and some 
gallant, officers did what they could to rally them once or 
twice, they at last took a precipitate flight. Just at this 
moment Colonel Gardiner saw a party of foot who were 
then bravely fighting near him, but had no officer to head 
them, and rode immediately to their aid ; but a Highlander 
advancing to him with a scythe fastened to a long pole, 
gave him such a deep wound on his right arm, that his 
sword dropped out of his hand ; and at the same time sev- 
eral others coming about him, while he was thus dread- 
fully entangled with that cruel weapon, he was dragged off 
from his horse. The moment he fell, another Highlander 
gave him a stroke, either with a broadsword, or a lochaber- 
axe, on the head, which was the mortal blow. All that 
his faithful attendant saw further at this time, was, that, as 
his hat was falling off, he took it in his left hand, and waved 
it as a signal to him to retreat, and added, which were the 
last words he ever heard him speak, " Take care of your- 
self;" upon which the servant immediately fled to a mill, 
at the distance of about two miles from the spot on which 
the colonel fell ; where he changed his dress, and, disguised 
like a miller's servant, returned with a cart about two hours 
after the engagement. The hurry of the action was then 
pretty well over, and he found his much-honored master 



24 LIFE OF COL. GARDINER. 

not only plundered of his watch and other things of value, 
but also stripped of his upper garments and boots, yet still 
breathing ; and adds, that though he was not capable of 
speech, yet on taking him up, he opened his eyes, which 
makes it something questionable whether he were altogether 
insensible. In this condition, and in this manner, he con- 
veyed him to the church of Tranent, whence he was imme- 
diately taken into the minister's house, and laid in a bed ; 
where he continued breathing till about eleven in the fore- 
noon, when he took his final leave of pain and sorrow. His 
remains were interred the Tuesday following, September 
24, at the parish church of Tranent, where he had usually 
attended divine service, with great solemnity. 



For further particulars in the life of this eminent Christian, 
the reader is referred to a volume written by his most intimate 
friend, Rev. P. Doddridge, D. D., entitled, " Some Remarkable 
Passages in the Life of the Honorable Col. James Gardiner." 



No. 130. 

THE 

TWO OLD MEN ; 

OR, 

WHAT MAKES THEM TO DIFFER? 



BY REV CAESAR, MALAN. OF GENEVA. 




I had occasion to visit a distant part of my parish — the 
afternoon was fine, and I chose a path which presented va- 
ried and extensive prospects. As I ascended an eminence, 
I saw an aged laborer before me, who proceeded slowly 
along, bending under a heavy burden of wood. I knew 
something of this man — he was generally respected among 
his neighbors, and was spoken of as an example for regular 
attendance on public worship, and for general integrity of 
conduct. 

As I came near, I heard him complaining to himself. 

" Hard fate," said he ; " how many troubles fall to my 
lot. At seventy years old I am obliged to work from 
morning till night ; and, after all, can hardly keep myself 
vol. iv. 33* 



2 THE TWO OLD MEN; 

from starving. But so it is, and it is of no use to com- 
plain." 

As he spoke these words, he laid down his burden, and 
stopped to rest. 

" You seem tired, my friend," said I. " The path is 
steep and rough, and you are not so strong as you used 
to be." 

Old Man. It is the case with all, sir, as they grow old. 

Minister. If the old man has learned wisdom, he will 
find comfort in reflecting that his labor is nearly over. 

Old Man. What you say is true, sir ; we must soon go 
hence ; but it is hard to have had nothing but trouble here. 
Well, let it pass ; I am almost at the end of my journey. 

Minister. Happy are those who, while journeying here, 
are enabled to look to the Saviour. Old age has no terrors 
for them. 

Old Man. You are right, sir; but religion does not 
prevent our meeting with troubles. I am a proof of this, 
sir ; no one can be more religious than I have been : I go 
regularly to church, and I never worked on Sundays ; and, 
thank God, I can say, without boasting, that I am an honest 
man ; but, after all, no one has met with more misfortunes 
than I have. 

Minister. Doubtless, you have had your trials; but, 
my friend, are you right in calling them misfortunes ? God 
sends afflictions for our good. 

Old Man. I have nothing to say against it, sir ; but 
when I look around me, and see so many wicked — I do 
not wish to speak ill of my neighbors — thank God, I am 
not guilty of that sin ; but every body knows, that there 
are people who drink, and swear, and go neither to church 
nor meeting, and never trouble themselves about another 
world, and yet they live quite at their ease, and have every 
thing comfortable about them. Now, sir, I will freely own, 



THE TWO OLD MEN. 3 

that when I see these things, I cannot help asking myself, 
whether it was worth my while to take all this trouble to 
be religious ; for what have I got by it ? My two sons 
have cost me money without end ; and, after all, it was of 
no use, for they died : and my wife's last illness took what 
little I had left ; and here am I, turned of seventy, without 
a shilling in the world, and obliged to work as a day-la- 
borer. Surely, my lot is a hard one ! 

Minister. I am very sorry to hear you speak in this 
manner. I thought that you had been a Christian, but I 
see no proof of it. 

Old Man. I beg your pardon, sir. Thank God, I am 
a Christian, and I have no doubt I shall go to heaven when 
Tdie. 

Minister. Tell me ; how do you expect to get there ? 

Old Man. The same way as others, to be sure. I am 
an honest man ; I have done nobody any harm ; and, 
though I may not always have been quite so good as I 
ought, I am not worse than my neighbors ; and after all, 
God is merciful, and he will pardon those who repent, and 
are sorry for what they have done wrong. 

Minister. You are right, my friend, in saying that God 
is merciful ; but you should remember he is just also, and 
that we have all sinned against him, and there is no for- 
giveness, except through Christ Jesus. 

Old Man. Who denies this, sir ? We must be Chris- 
tians, or we cannot go to heaven. 

Minister. What is being a Christian ? 

Old Man. As to that, sir, every body best knows his 
own meaning. For my part, I am not one of those who 
think they see more in religion than their neighbors. If I 
do my best, it is all that is required of me ; and I believe 
in God, and in Jesus Christ, and give myself no trouble as 
to anything further. 



4 THE TWO OLD MEN. 

Minister. But, my good friend, are you certain that you 
believe in Jesus Christ? Perhaps you may be mistaken as 
to this. 

Old Man. Sir, I am very sure that a good man will do 
what his conscience tells him he ought to do ; and if he 
does this, God will not condemn him for not having believed 
what he did not understand. 

Minister. But supposing he has neglected what he did 
know ? And I cannot help saying to you, Take care ; for 
much is required of you, and your time is now short. 

Old Man. Thank you, sir, for your advice; but I hope 
to live some years longer. I do not think my time will 
come just yet. 

Minister. Ah, my friend, if you knew the Saviour, 
you would be ready to depart hence, and to be with him, 
instead of wishing to continue in this world. 

Old Man. All in good time, sir: while we are here, let 
us make the best of this world ; when we are in heaven, we 
shall have time enough to think of these things. 

Minister. My poor old man ! Is this all your hope ? 
With eternity before you, upon the point of being summoned 
to appear before your God, you have no trust except in 
your own righteousness. You boast that you have not 
been a thief, or a murderer, or a slanderer, but you know 
not the sinfulness of your heart, and you are ignorant of 
the way of salvation, through faith in Christ Jesus. My 
good friend, I must tell you that your soul is in great 
danger. 

Old Man. I hope not, sir ; I hope not. I have no fear 
about the matter. I do my duty — I go to church — I say 
my prayers — I read the Bible now and then — this is more 
than most people do; and, no doubt, I shall get safe to 
heaven at last. 

Minister. My friend, I fear much for you, and I must 



THE TWO OLD MEN. 5 

speak to you again about these things; think more about 
them. I will call upon you in a day or two ; I cannot now 
stop any longer. 

Old Max. I shall be glad to see you, sir; I like to 
talk about religion. Good day, sir. 

Fervently I implored Him " that openeth, and no man 
shutteth," Rev. 3 : 7, to have compassion upon this poor 
sinner, and to enable me to speak a word in season the next 
time I saw him. " This, then," said I, as I proceeded on 
my way, "is the religion with which man decks himself 
before his fellow-mortals ! By this hardness of heart, and 
this self-confidence, he has acquired that reputation of which 
he is so vain ! A few accustomed phrases, decency in his 
outward conduct, and a constant readiness to blame the 
faults of others, may be enough to satisfy those who only 
regard outward appearances; 'But the Lord looketh on the 
heart.' 1 Sam. 16 : 7. What hope, then, is there for his 
soul ? What is the ground of his confidence before that 
just and holy God, since he desires not the knowledge of 
the Lord ; still less does he seek to be reconciled to God, by 
fleeing for refuge to the hope set before him in Jesus Christ, 
the only and beloved Son of God, who alone is the way, the 
truth, and the life ? Who has this man chosen for his 
Saviour ? Alas ! he does not even feel his need of one. 
Dreadful ignorance ! ' When they shall say, peace and 
safety, then sudden destruction cometh upon them.' 1 
Thess. 5 : 3. An aged person, still ignorant of our Saviour, 
is indeed to be pitied ! Is there ground to hope that he will 
awaken from this spiritual slumber before the sleep of death 
overtake him ; and what is this first death now at hand, 
when compared with that which must come, and which is 
emphatically called ' the second death ?' Rev. 20 : 14. 
Surely, then, it is peculiarly the duty of all, who are the 
children of God, to pray earnestly and at all times, that he 



6 THE TWO OLD MEN. 

would have compassion upon the aged, who yet remain ig- 
norant of his salvation, and awaken them, while it is yet 
time, while it is yet called to-day." 

My mind was still engaged in these important reflections, 
when I arrived at the first of the cottages I came to visit. 
It was a humble dwelling, built against a rock which rose 
abruptly from the side of a hill, embosomed in trees, which 
covered it with their luxuriant foliage ; at a small distance 
was an orchard ; a rivulet, rising from a higher part of the 
hill, flowed past the cottage, and was lost in plantations of 
osier. 

Here dwelt one of the most aged of my parishioners, gen- 
erally known by the name of Old William. He had built 
upon a rock, not as to his earthly dwelling only ; his hopes 
for eternity rested upon the Rock of ages. These hopes 
filled him with peace and joy in believing, and had support- 
ed him under the privations and infirmities of age. His lot 
had been one of trial and suffering ; for, after having lived 
happily for many years, with a wife whom he dearly loved, 
he had followed her to the grave ; and had also lost, in early 
life, three promising children ; while two others, who had sur- 
vived, were removed to a distance, and he had now no one 
to live with him except one of his grandchildren and an 
aged laborer. 

I often called upon this old man, and always found that 
I was benefited by his conversation. His religion was 
calm and simple, and free from guile ; the words he uttered 
spoke the inward peace which possessed his soul. When- 
ever he mentioned his past trials and sufferings, he dwelt so 
much upon the love of his Saviour, that it was impossible 
not to feel affected by that influence which ever accompa- 
nies true faith, and which gives a foretaste of joys to come. 
As I drew near the house, I saw the old man sitting at the 
door, and his grandson standing between his knees. The 



THE TWO OLD MEN. 7 

old man was speaking earnestly ; and they were too much 
engaged to observe my approach. " No, my child," said 
he, " we sorrow not for your father, as without hope : his 
body, it is true, lies in the grave, but his soul is with Him 
who loved and redeemed him. Do you remember your 
father ? Oh ! may you be a disciple of Christ, as he was. 
Shall not I soon be with him ?" 

" And shall not I go too ?" said the boy. 

" I hope you will, my child : God is the father of the 
fatherless; trust in him, I must soon leave you." 

At these words the child burst into tears. I called him 
to me, and said what I could to comfort him, and, taking a 
little book from my pocket, " Go, my dear," said I, " sit 
down under that tree, and read this ; you will find it tells 
you that God will never forget his children." 

" My friend," said I, as soon as I was alone with the old 
man, " let us bless the Lord at all times, and under all the 
dispensations of his providence." 

Old William. Yes, for he is our Father ; he is always 
kind to us. " Like as a father pitieth his children, so the 
Lord pitieth them that fear him." Psalm 103 : 13. 

Minister. I rejoice, my brother, to find, that, in your 
old age, you are thus supported by the Lord ; and that your 
faith is strengthened as the hour of your departure draws 
nigh. Your lot appears to me desirable. 

Old William. Sir, I have indeed much cause for re- 
joicing — the Lord crowns me with his loving-kindness. 

Minister. Your past troubles, and the recollection of 
them, are no longer too bitter for you to bear ; the suffer- 
ings of old age are not beyond your strength to sustain. 

Old William. Ah, sir, you know better than I do, 
from whence our strength is derived. The Lord has said, 
" My grace is sufficient for thee ; for my strength is made 
perfect in weakness." 2 Cor. 12 : 9. I did not always 



8 THE TWO OLD MEN. 

think so : some events in my past life have troubled and 
cast me down, and more than once did I forget Him in whom 
alone we have strength, and then I gave way to unbelief. 
I recollect, particularly, one of these bitter trials, which I 
was ready to sink under ; but the Saviour remembered his 
promise, though I had forgotten it. He would not let me 
go, though I was ready to depart from him. I had just lost 
my dear wife ; she left this world rejoicing and trusting in 
Him who loved and redeemed her; and, like the martyr 
Stephen, she appeared to have a glimpse of the glory of her 
Redeemer, even in this world of sin and suffering ; yet my 
hard, unthankful heart praised him not for this loving-kind- 
ness towards her ; I felt stunned and angered under my loss ; 
I submitted, it is true, but I submitted not willingly ; I did 
not say, " It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good." 
1 Sam. 3 : 18. But God loves us with real love, and draws 
towards him the heart which is not of itself inclined to seek 
him, and according to his word I have found, that " whom 
the Lord loveth, he chasteneth." Heb. 12 : 6. I had been 
one day to a neighboring village, to plant some flowers on 
the grave of my dear wife. On my return, I saw a thick 
smoke rising from the ruins of my barn — it was consumed, 
and all my little harvest — all that I had stored up for my 
family. Thou, O Lord, hast pardoned me ; but thou 
knowest that the first thoughts of that hard heart, which is 
still within me, were to murmur and complain. I was ready 
to say, " AY hat doest thou ?" Job 9:12. I entered my 
cottage, and there a more dreadful scene met my eyes ; I 
saw Daniel, my eldest son, the comfort and stay of my age, 
the support of my family, and an example to all who knew 
him, lying on the floor, scorched, burnt, and disfigured, 
while some friends were applying remedies ; but the injuries 
he had received were too severe, and he soon afterwards 
expired. He had rushed into the middle of the flames, and 



THE TWO OLD MEN. 9 

saved his youngest sister, but God was pleased to call him 
hence by this his work and labor of love. Never can I 
recollect that day without bitterness of soul ; and that, not 
so much from the remembrance of this affliction, severe as 
it was, but from calling to mind my unbelief, and murmur- 
ing against thee, O Lord. Would you believe, sir, that my 
Daniel, full of faith and rejoicing, even under the painful 
agonies he then suffered, should be able to comfort, or, I 
would rather say, to shame his wretched father?' " I can no 
longer see you, my father," said he, " but I hear what you 
say, and it grieves me. O, my father, you are complaining 
against God." "It is more," cried I, "than I can bear." 
" Yes, my father, it is more than you can bear, but it is the 
Lord's doing ; he has sent you this trial ; and as for me, I 
am about to depart hence, and be with him for ever." " But 
why could he not spare you a few years longer?" My son 
replied not, but in a low voice he prayed, " Come, Lord Je- 
sus; O! come quickly." Then asking for his wife and 
their infant, he commended them to Him who feeds the fowls 
of the air, and clothes the grass of the field. Matt. 6 : 
26-34. " Elizabeth," added he, " remember that your hus- 
band is going to be with Christ, and teach our Benjamin 
that there is a Saviour." These were his last words. Since 
that time she has joined him above. But I murmured 
against thee, O Lord, and cried, " Wherefore is light given 
to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul ?" 
Job 3 : 20. 

Minister. Your mind now is at peace, and you have 
experienced that, although " no chastening for the present 
seemeth to be joyous, but grievous ; nevertheless, afterward 
it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them 
which are exercised thereby." Heb. 12 : 11. 

Old William. Yes, sir, I am now enabled to say, " It 
is good for me that I have been afflicted." Psa. 119 : 71. 
vol. iv. 34 



10 THE TWO OLD MEN. 

I perceive how great has been the mercy of the Lord to my 
soul ; I now can see the way by which he has led me, and 
which I knew not ; it is far better than the way I desired 
to choose myself. The Lord seemed to visit me in his dis- 
pleasure : these dispensations, to worldly eyes, appeared the 
effects of divine wrath ■ but I know that they are the reme- 
dies which are needful for the healing of my soul. Yes, 
my Saviour, thou art full of compassion and loving-kindness 
towards me, wretched sinner that I am. 

Minister. Ere long, my friend, you will be with 
Him who has "loved thee with an everlasting love," Jer. 
31 : 3, and " who was delivered for our offences." Rom. 
4 : 25. 

" Yes ; may it be soon," said the old man, raising his 
eyes towards heaven, with an expression of love and joy 
which I cannot describe, and which surpassed any thing I 
have ever seen in others. 

I have often marked the peace and serenity which ap- 
peared upon the countenances of aged persons, who knew 
the Saviour, and trusted in him alone — far different from the 
anxious, care-worn expression of those who have grown old 
in the love of the world, and the things which are in it ; 
but I never before so strongly marked that divine seal of 
the hope which " maketh not ashamed." Rom. 5:5. It 
is true, that I, perhaps, never before found a heart so sin- 
cerely attached to Christ, nor a Christian who felt so deeply 
that he was a stranger and pilgrim on the earth, Heb. 
11:13, hastening towards that " house not made with hands, 
eternal in the heavens." 2 Cor. 5:1. 

• I think that aged pilgrims frequently fall short of their 
privileges. They are in general deeply anxious respecting 
the salvation of their souls ; for how is it possible to be un- 
concerned, when they cannot but feel that eternity is just 
at hand ! — when the infirmities of a body, worn out by sin 



THE TWO OLD MEN. H 

and worldly cares, remind them at every step, that they 
must soon be laid in that narrow house which is appointed 
for all living, there to return, earth to earth, and ashes to 
ashes ! The old man, now arrived at that age which is the 
term appointed for the life of the children of men, if he 
does not suffer himself to be blinded by the vain imagina- 
tions of his own heart, and the false, flattering hopes of his 
friends, must daily feel, " I have run my appointed course : 
I must soon depart hence, and that for ever." Then, unless 
he is willing his soul should be lost for ever, surely he will 
look to Jesus. " For there is none other name under heav- 
en, given among men, whereby we must be saved." Acts 
4 : 12. Yet, how seldom do we find, beneath gray hairs, a 
" desire to depart, and to be with Christ." Phil. 1 : 23. Few 
indeed are there, who are found looking for, and anxiously 
waiting the coming of that day, when they shall enter upon 
another and a better world. Still fewer are there, who, 
like this old man, have cast themselves entirely upon the 
Saviour and his finished redemption. Happy is the soul 
who can thus contemplate the Saviour dying for us men, 
and for our salvation ; the remembrance of past transgres- 
sions at once humbles him in the dust before his Lord, and 
excites his admiration for the "great love wherewith he 
loved us." Eph. 2 : 4. 

Old William. This, sir, is the ground of my hope and 
rejoicing, when I think of the world to come. When I sit 
here, at evening, while Benjamin is collecting his sheep, I 
call to mind the days of my pilgrimage, fewer in number 
and more evil than those of Jacob, Gen. 47 : 9, and how 
far does the long-suffering and the love of God appear to 
pass human understanding — I seem lost, when I reflect 
thereon. I recollect the time when I built this little cot- 
tage : I was just turned of thirty, and about to marry. I 
had lived, as most of our countrymen do, without seriously 



12 THE TWO OLD MEN. 

thinking of the concerns of my soul, and only a few occa- 
sional thoughts upon the subject had passed across my mind. 
I felt, however, desirous to pursue these thoughts. How 
kind was the Saviour towards me ! It was indeed by bands 
of love, Hosea 11:4, that he drew me to him. He united 
me to one of his children — my dear Susan was a follower 
of Christ — she was the only daughter of a poor widow, who 
lived at that white cottage which you see at the end of the 
valley. How often have we walked by the side of that 
little stream, conversing about these things. She was al- 
ways the first to begin this subject ; and she, by divine 
grace, was the means appointed to teach me that I was a 
poor sinner, but that Christ died for me. 

Minister. The Lord blessed you in thus granting, 
what, according to his word, is a favor from him. Prov. 
18:22. 

Old William. She was indeed a blessing from him, 
and therefore I ought to have given him all my heart, and 
to have lived only to him, as she lived. But how often 
have I grieved her by the hardness of my heart towards 
God. Often has she said to me, " O ! why will not you 
love the Saviour ? The pride of your heart will not allow 
you to accept the salvation he offers, because it is ' without 
money, and without price,' Isa. 55 : 1 ; but rest assured 
that it is more certain and more sweet to receive this as a 
free gift from our God, than to harass and torment yourself 
as you do, with the vain hope of being able to work out 
salvation for yourself." 

Minister. You were then righteous in your own eyes, 
and forgot, that of yourself you had no power to do good 
works, pleasant and acceptable to God ; but supposed that 
your own good deeds would blot out your sins, and ransom 
your soul from condemnation. 

Old William. It is true, sir, I felt a secret repugnance 



THE TWO OLD MEN. ] 3 

and dislike to the great and consoling truth, that "a sinner 
can only be justified before God, by the righteousness and 
the blood of Christ." I loathed the idea of " being justified 
freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in Christ 
Jesus." Rom. 3 : 24. To relinquish my own righteous- 
ness, and seek to be clothed with his righteousness ; to 
renounce all that I had secretly prided myself upon, and 
relinquish all that I had done in my own strength — in short, 
that "all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags" in the sight 
of God, was hateful to me. Isa. 64 : 6. These doctrines 
of the Gospel hurt the pride of my heart. I strove with 
my Maker, and felt angry with my patient and affectionate 
wife, who, seeing me thus refusing the offer of salvation 
through the blood of Christ, disputed not with me, but con- 
tinued to point out the Saviour to me as "the Lamb of God, 
which taketh away the sin of the world." John 1 : 29. But 
now mercy has been extended to me, " My soul shall be 
joyful in my God, for he hath clothed me with the garments 
of salvation ; he hath covered me with the robe of right- 
eousness." Isa. 61 : 10. 

Minister. But do you not still " groan, being burden- 
ed" with sin and suffering; do not your daily offences 
against God cause you much grief and bitterness of soul ? 

Old William. Yes, daily do I long for that happy 
moment when my soul shall be freed from sin ; when I 
shall be called to depart hence, and to be with Christ. The 
accomplishment of this hope appears now at hand, and this 
alone supports and sustains me. Oh, sir, you know not 
how I wish to be freed from the power of unbelief; how I 
groan, being burdened by this body of sin and death. 

Minister. Then are you not yet at peace with God ? 

Old William. Thanks be to God, sir, for the inestima- 
ble gift; he has not left me in doubt of his love towards me. 
I know that it is an unchanging love ; and that the love 
vol. iv. 34* 



1 4 THE TWO OLD MEN. 

wherewith he loved me, while yet his enemy, Rom. 5 : 10, 
will not be taken away, seeing that I am now justified by 
his blood,. Rom. 5:9; and, to use the words of the apostle, 
" I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor 
principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to 
come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall 
be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in 
Christ Jesus our Lord," Rom. 8 : 38, 39 ; which he has tes- 
tified unto me, " according to the good pleasure of his will." 
Eph. 1:5. I often think that I act towards my heavenly 
Father somewhat in the manner in which my little Benja- 
min acts towards me, if I may make such a comparison. 
The child knows that I love him, and he desires to please 
me ; but sometimes, forgetting my affection and his duty, he 
does something displeasing to me ; but the poor child does 
not, therefore, doubt that I am his " dear father," as he calls 
me ; and I do not forget that he is " my child ;" but I hasten 
to turn his heart towards me, that he may find peace and 
comfort. Benjamin can easily count the times that I for- 
give him, but how can I number the loving-kindnesses of the 
Lord towards me ; have I not sufficient ground to rest my- 
self upon the mercy and loving-kindness of Him who says, 
"Fear not, for I have redeemed thee ?" Isa. 43 : 1. 

Minister. Happy old man ! Happy believer in Christ ! 
You seem already to enjoy a foretaste of that happiness 
which is to come. 

Old William. Oh, sir, speak to me only of the mercy 
and loving-kindness of my Saviour — that is what my soul 
requires, and thirsts to hear. Tell me that the treasures of 
his grace and long-suffering are inexhaustible — that is the 
ground of my confidence. Tell me, again and again, that 
salvation is by Christ alone, so that I may more and more 
desire to be " found in him." Phil. 3 : 9. Show him to 
me "meek and lowlv in heart," Matt. 11 : 29, the friend 



THE TWO OLD MEN. 15 

of sinners, Matt. 11 : 19, "the Lamb that was slain" for 
me. Rev. 5 : 12. Show me these things, that I may not 
dread the day when "he shall come* to judge the world." 
Tell me, tell me that Christ died for me, and that is all I 
wish, all that I can require. 

Minister. Christ himself tells you this. By his Holy 
Spirit he has revealed it to you ; and he will increase this 
assurance every day and every hour that you remain in this 
world. Rejoice, then, happy old man, because your name 
is written in the book of life. Phil. 4:3; Luke 10 : 20. 
Yet a little while, a few days more, and you will be removed 
to the place prepared for you in your " Father's house," 
John 14 : 2, 3, and the love*of Christ shall be your life 
eternal. 

" May these things be so," said the old man. 

" I must now leave you," said I, " but I rejoice, with the 
truest joy which a minister of Christ can possess, that there 
is at least one of my flock, who will quit this world of sor- 
row to enter into eternal happiness." 

My reader, reflect a little upon this narrative, especially 
if you are advanced in life. 

You have heard the sentiments of two men, two of your 
fellow-mortals, whose hour of death was at hand, and whose 
souls, like yours, will never die. It is not a matter of choice 
with us ; but whether we desire it or not, our souls must 
appear before the judgment-seat of Christ. These two men 
were each of them desirous that their souls should enjoy 
happiness in the world to come, and each of them thought 
that he had found the path that leadeth to life eternal. But 
which of them was right? Ask yourself, my reader; ask 
your conscience, for it is certain that there is only one way 
by which we can obtain eternal happiness, and you must 
have seen that these two men pursued different paths. 



16 THE TWO OLD MEN. 

Was that man right, who, trusting in his fancied good 
works, and full of his own righteousness, had the name of 
Jesus on his lips only*, and not in his heart ; who imagined 
that every one who called himself a Christian was, in reali- 
ty, a follower of Christ ? 

Or do you think him right — that pious and humble man 
— who had placed his foundation on " the Rock of ages !" 
who ascribed all the glory of his salvation to the Saviour ; 
and who trusted only in his blood, shed for us upon the 
cross ? 

Surely you cannot doubt on this subject. Your own 
heart will tell you that the latter was the Christian, and that 
he had the faith which savetli. 

Haste, then, my aged friend, haste, while there is yet 
time. " Now is the accepted time — now is the day of sal- 
vation," 2 Cor. 6:2; but it is fast fleeing away, you are 
now at the "eleventh hour;" hasten and cast yourself upon 
the Lord ; give your heart to Him who alone can save ; and 
rest your hopes of salvation on Christ alone, and not upon 
yourself. May he be pleased to hear you ; and may he, by 
his Holy Spirit, enable you to come unto him, who has de- 
clared, that to those who ask, it shall be given ; that those 
who seek shall find. Matt. 7 : 7. 

Let the humble Christian, who is mourning because he 
is not able to feel confident and assured of his interest in 
Christ, not be discouraged and cast down ; but let the sense 
of his weakness and unbelief drive him to the throne of 
grace, and make him willing to derive grace and strength 
from that fulness which is treasured up in Christ Jesus. Let 
him remember that he may do this. The words of the 
apostle are, " casting all your care upon Him, for he careth 
for you." 1 Pet. 5 : 7. "All are yours, and ye are 
Christ's, and Christ is God's." 1 Cor. 3 : 22, 23. 



No. 137. 

THE CHURCH SAFE. 



BY REV. DANIEL A. CLARK. 

" Fear not., little flock," said Christ to his followers, "for 
it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." 
In this promise he secured the existence of a church on 
earth, and its ultimate triumph ; and at the same time made 
certain, to each individual of the true church militant, a par- 
ticipation in those triumphs. Christ did set up a kingdom 
among that little band of early believers, and he never has 
abandoned that kingdom since ; and never will, till it has 
widened from sea to sea, and from pole to pole. While, 
then, we adopt as our watchword, The Church Safe, let us 
inquire what assurances we have of this reviving and glo- 
rious truth. 

I. We have abundant assurance of the future existence 
and increase of the church, in the firmness and stability of 
the divine operations. I now refer, not merely to the un- 
changeableness of God, which will lead him to pursue for 
ever that plan which his infinite wisdom devised ; for that 
plan lies concealed from us ; but to that uniform and steady 
course with which he has pursued every enterprise which 
his hands have begun. That he is of the same mind, and 
that none can turn him, is a thought full of comfort ; but 
that he has finished every work which he took in hand, is 
a fact which intelligences have witnessed, and one on which 
we may found our richest expectations. 

The worlds which he begun to build, he finished. Not 
one was left half-formed and motionless. Each he placed 
in its orbit, gave it light, and laws, and impulse. And ever 
since this first development of the divine stability, the wheels 
of Providence have rolled on with steady and settled course. 
What Omnipotence began, whether to create or to destroy, 
he rested not till he had accomplished. 



2 THE CHURCH SAFE. 

When he had become incensed with our world, and 
purposed its desolation, with what a firm and steady step 
did he go on to achieve his purpose. Noah builds the ark, 
and God prepares the fountains, which, at his word, burst 
from their intrenchments to drown an impious generation. 

How have suns kept their stations, and planets rolled in 
their orbits, by the steady pressure of the hand of God ; in 
their revolutions measuring out the years of their own dura- 
tion, and by their velocity urging on the amazing moment, 
when they shall meet in dread concussion, and perish in the 
contact. How fixed their periods, their risings, their eclipses, 
their changes, and their transits. And while they roll, how 
uniform is the return of spring, summer, autumn, and winter. 
How certain every law of matter, gravitation, attraction, re- 
flection, etc. The very comet, so long considered lawless, 
how is it curbed and reined in its eccentric orbit, and never 
yet had power or permission to burn a single world. 

How sure is the fulfilment of prophecy ! Ages inter- 
vening cannot shake the certainty of its accomplishment. 
Jesus bleeds on Calvary four thousand years subsequently 
to the promise which that event accomplishes. Cyrus is 
named in the page of prophecy more than two hundred 
years before his birth, and at the destined moment becomes 
the Lord's shepherd, collects the lost sheep of the house of 
Israel, and builds Jerusalem. The Jews, as prophets three 
thousand years ago foretold, are yet in exile. The weeping 
prophet, now at rest, still sees the family he loved peeled and 
scattered, and the soil that drank his tears cursed for their 
sins; and confident that God is true, waits impatient the 
certain, but distant year of their redemption. 

Wretches that dare his power, God will not disturb his 
plan to punish. The old world flourished one hundred 
and twenty years after heaven had cursed that guilty race. 
Sodom was a fertile valley long after the cry of its enor- 
mities had entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth. 
The Amorites were allowed five hundred years to fill up 



THE CHURCH SAFE. 3 

the measure of their iniquity, after God had pledged their 
land to Abram, although Israel wore away the intervening 
years in bondage. Many a murderer has been overtaken 
by the hand of justice half a century past the time of the 
bloody deed. God will punish all the workers of iniquity, 
but he waits till the appointed moment. Like the lion in the 
forest, he comes upon his enemies, conscious of his strength, 
with steady but dreadful steps. In his movements there is 
neither frenzy, passion, nor haste. While his judgments 
linger, his enemies ask, " Where is the promise of his 
coming ?" But let them know that he has appeared and 
discomfited many, and the inference is, that they must perish 
too. Whatever God begins, he finishes : no unseen embarrass- 
ment can turn his eye from his original purpose. Whether 
we can trace his footsteps or not, he moves on to the accom- 
plishment of his purpose with undeviating course. Every 
event, in aspect bright or dark, promotes the ultimate in- 
crease and establishment of his church. Or shall this be the 
only enterprise to which his wisdom, his power, or his grace, 
is inadequate ? In this solitary instance shall he begin to 
build and not be able to finish ? What would be thought 
of him in hell, if the mystical temple should never receive 
its top-stone ! Its fires may go out, the worm may die, or 
some infernal genius bridge the gulf. Heaven, too, loses 
all confidence in its King. 

Thus, before we examine the history of the church, or 
read the promises, if we believe that God has ever had a 
church, we have the strongest possible -presumptive evidence 
that he will watch her interests, will feed the fires upon her 
altars, will bring her sons from far, and her daughters from 
the ends of the earth, and will never leave her nor forsake her. 

II. Our expectations brighten when we see what God 
has done for his church. My first argument went to show, 
that if God had only laid the corner-stone of this heavenly 
building, it would rise and be finished. We are now to view 
the building half erected, and from what has been done, argue 



4 THE CHURCH SAFE. 

the certainty of its completion. The church has been under 
the fostering care of Heaven too long to be abandoned now. 

Let us retrace for a moment a few pages of its history, 
and we shall see, that when the church was low, he raised 
it ; when it was in danger, he saved it. Amid all the moral 
desolations of the old world, the church never became extinct. 
And he at length held the winds in his fist, and barred the 
fountains- of the deep, till Noah could build the ark, and the 
church be housed from the storm. 

How wonderful were his interpositions when the church 
was embodied in the family of Abraham. In redeeming it 
from Egyptian bondage, how did he open upon that guilty 
land all the embrasures of heaven, till they thrust out his 
people. And he conducted them to Canaan by the same 
masterly hand. The sea divided, and Jordan rolled back 
its waters ; the rock became a pool, and the heavens rained 
them bread, till they drank at the fountains, and ate the 
fruits of the land of promise. Their garments lasted forty 
years ; and the angel Jehovah, in a cloud of light, led them 
through the labyrinths and dangers of the desert. 

When the church diminished, and her prospects clouded 
over, he raised up reformers. Such were Samuel, and Da- 
vid, and Hezekiah, and Josiah, and Daniel, and Ezra, and 
Nehemiah : such were all the prophets. Each in his turn 
became a master-builder, and the temple rose. 

Again : on the introduction of the Gospel dispensation, 
under the ministry of Christ and his apostles, 'how did her 
prospects brighten. In three thousand hearts, under a sin- 
gle sermon, commenced the process of sanctification. The 
very cross proved an engine to erect her pillars ; the flames 
lighted her apartments ; and the blood of the martyrs ce- 
mented the walls of her temple, and contributed to its 
strength and beauty. Every dying groan alarmed the 
prince of hell, and shook the pillars of his dreary domain. 

But the church again sunk, and hell presumed that her 
ruin would be soon achieved, when the sixteenth centurv 



THE CHURCH SAFE. 5 

lifted upon her the dawn of hope. In Luther, Calvin, Me- 
lancthon, and Zuinglius, her interests found able advocates. 
They appeared at the very juncture when the sinking church 
needed their courage and their prayers. Like some mighty 
constellation, which burst from the east at the hour of mid- 
night, they appeared when moral darkness was almost total, 
and, like that of Egypt, could seem to be felt. By their aid 
; the church emerged from the wilderness. By their courage 
her grand enemy was made to tremble on his ghostly tribu- 
nal. The power of the Pope had then outgrown the strength 
of every civil arm. Every monarch in Europe was at his 
feet. Till Luther rose, there was no power to cope with 
him. There was a true church, but she had no champion. 
The followers of Jesus paid for the privilege of discipleship 
with their blood. He who dared to be guided by his own 
conscience, committed an offence that could not be pardoned. 
The heavenly-minded saw no relief but in death, and thirsted 
for the honor of a martyrdom that would place them in a 
world where conscience might be free. But God appeared 
and redeemed his people. The theme is pleasant, but time 
would fail me to rehearse what God has done for his church. 
Every age has recorded the interpositions of his mercy ; 
and every land where there is a remnant of his church, 
bears some monument that tells to his honor. 

Now, he who has done so much for his church, will 
never abandon her. If he would float her above a drown- 
ing world ; would redeem her from bondage ; would escort 
her through the desert ; would rain her bread from heaven ; 
would reprove kings for her sake ; would stop the sun to 
aid her victories ; with his smiles light the glooms of her 
dungeon ; and by his presence cool the fires of the stake : 
there can be no fear for her safety. 

God will do just such things for Zion as he has done. 
His arm is not shortened, nor his ear heavy. The church 
was never nearer his heart than now. And he now hates 
her enemies as really as he did Pharaoh, Sennacherib, 

VOL. TV. 85 



6 THE CHURCH SAFE. 

Nero, or Julian. He then governed the world for the sake 
of his church ; and for her sake he governs it still. " The 
Lord's portion is his people." We know not that he ever 
had but one object in view, in the events that have tran- 
spired in our world : and that one, the honor of his name in 
the redemption of his people ; and this object sways his 
heart still. The destruction of the enemy is a part of the 
same plan. Still may the church invoke the Lord God of 
Elijah, may rest under the protection of the God of Bethel, 
and wrestle with the angel of Penuel. If she should be in 
bondage, there will rise another Moses, another cloud will 
conduct her out of Egypt, and the same heavens will rain 
her manna. If darkness should overshadow her, there will 
be found, among the sons she hath brought up, another Lu- 
ther, Calvin, or Knox, to take her by the hand, to protect her 
honors, and recruit her strength. Shame on the Christian 
who knows her history and yet is afraid. Afraid of what ? 
That God will cease to defend the apple of his eye ? Afraid 
that the city, graven upon the palms of his hands, may be 
captured and destroyed ? If God continue to do such things 
as he has done, the church with all her retinue is safe. 

III. God is doing now just such things as he has done. 
We saw laid the corner-stone, and drew thence our jirst 
argument. Then we saw the building half erected, and 
were furnished with a second. We are now to view the 
edifice covered with builders, and from their exertions derive 
our third. We may now reason from things that our eyes 
can see. We may appeal for testimony to the very saw 
and hammer, and make the scaffold speak. 

It may be that some of my hearers are not sensible in 
what a day of heavenly exploit they live. Do you know 
what God is doing ? Have you learned that Bible Societies 
are forming in every part of Christendom, and that the 
Scriptures are now read in a multitude of languages, in 
which, till lately, not a text of inspired truth was ever 
written? Do you know that the late editions of God's 



THE CHURCH SAFE. 7 

word have commenced their circulation, are traversing the 
desert, taming the savage, and pouring celestial light on 
eyes that never met its beams before ? 

Do you know the prevalence of a missionary spirit ? 
Have you learned, that youth, of the first character, of the 
fairest prospect, and of both sexes, are proud to be mis- 
sionaries of the cross ? Some have gone, and others wait 
impatient till your charity shall send them. Many a mother 
has devoted her daughter to the work, and waits for oppor- 
tunity to give her the parting kiss ; and many a daughter, on 
whom has fallen Harriet's mantle, aches to visit her tomb, and 
rest under the same turf till Jesus bid them rise. And what 
daughter of Zion is not ambitious of a martyrdom like hers 1 

How numerous and extensive the revivals which at pres- 
ent we witness in our land ! What other page of the church's 
history, but the present, could record an almost universal 
concert of prayer ? Christians of every continent employ- 
ing the same hour in the same supplications ! How unpar- 
alleled the success of every Christian enterprise. 

Much that God is now doing is evidently preparatory to 
future operations. Bible, and Missionary, and Education, 
and Tract Societies, may be viewed as the accumulated 
energies of the church. Hitherto our exertions have been 
insulated and feeble. The little streams fructified the 
plains through which they flowed, but could easily be 
dammed or evaporated ; but their junction has formed a 
mighty river, destined to penetrate every moral desert, and 
carry fertilization to every province of our desolated world ; 
fed with the showers of heaven, and every day flowing on 
with deeper and broader channel, the wilds of Arabia, the 
heaths of Africa, and the plains of Siberia, can oppose no 
effectual barrier to its influence. 

What age but ours was ever blessed with Theological 
Seminaries, where might be reared, at the expense of char- 
ity, young evangelists, to go out and carry the bread of life 
to a starving world ? Fortunes, collected for other pur- 



8 THE CHURCH SAFE. 

poses, are poured into the treasury of the Lord, and thus 
are erected batteries to demolish the strong holds of the 
prince of hell. 

Churches and congregations, who, in seasons of coldness, 
grudged to support the Gospel at home, are now equipping 
young men for the missionary field, and for their own edifi- 
cation. And it has at length become so disreputable to 
stand idle in these matters, that the man who would save his 
money, feels himself in danger of losing his character. 

Not long since, young men of piety and talents, who 
longed to fight the battles of the Lord, must equip them- 
selves, and then find poor support in the service. But the 
scale is turned. Where there is no fortune but piety, a 
thirst for knowledge, and a talent to improve, the way is 
now open to all the honors of the camp of Israel. The pious 
mother, who could only drop her two mites into the treasury 
of the Lord, but whose example and whose prayers have 
been instrumental in saving her son, may bring her Samuel 
to the altar, to be fed from its offerings, and reared to all the 
honors of the prophetic office. While I am yet speaking, 
hope springs up, and a joy, not felt in ages past, thrills 
through all the habitations of pious poverty. 

The late revivals possess one peculiar characteristic. 
There have been among their fruits an unusual number of 
males. When there was little else that could be done for 
Zion but pray and weep, and love and live her doctrines, 
the feebler sex would furnish the Christian world with sol- 
diers. But now, when the kingdom of darkness must be 
stormed, Zion needs the aid of her sons ; and God, it would 
seem, accommodates the operations of his Spirit to the inter- 
ests of his church. Paul was not converted till his help was 
needed, and it was not needed till the Gospel was to be car- 
ried to the Gentiles. Every revival, of late, contradicts that 
libel long legible on the records of infidelity, " That religion 
evinces its emptiness, by its exclusive operation upon the 
feebler part of our race." Recently, the strong and mus- 



THE CHURCH SAFE. 9 

cular, the very champions of the host of hell, have fallen 
before the power of truth, and are harnessed for its defence. 
Moreover, men of science and of strong minds have, in their 
own esteem, become fools, and have sitten down to learn 
truth at a Saviour's feet. Our late revivals have penetrated 
schools and colleges. Satan's cause has been well pleaded, 
and God now intends to plead his own. 

Does he without design raise up these instruments ? 
Would one pass through a whole kingdom, and employ 
every skilful mechanic, unless he intended to erect some 
mighty edifice ? If, then, we see God enlisting men in his 
service, men of strength and science, does he not intend to 
achieve some wondrous design ? Assuredly the heavenly 
building will rise. These talents will be, and are already, 
employed in extending Emmanuel's empire. India has 
already received our missionaries, and her Moloch, with all 
his cursed family of gods, sickens at their prospect. The 
dark places of his empire have been explored, and the seep- 
tre begins to tremble in his palsied hand. And poor Africa, 
more debased still, has found a tongue to plead her cause. 
Conscience, long asleep, and deaf to her rights, has waked ; 
and now, her sons, fed at the table of charity, are preparing 
to carry her the bread of life. My country, deeper in her 
debt than all other lands, has begun to pay its long arrears. 

Who could have hoped, a few years since, that he should 
ever see a day like this 1 If, twenty years since, one had 
told me that sixty years would so electrify the Christian 
world, I should have believed him visionary ; and, like the 
unbelieving Samaritan, should have pronounced it impossi- 
ble, unless God should make windows in heaven, and rain 
Bible and Missionary Societies from above : but God has 
done it all without a miracle. And, blessed be his name — 
my readers, will you join me in the thank-offering ? — bless- 
ed be his name, that he cast us upon such an age as this. 
Blessed be his name, that we were not born a century sooner. 
Then we had never seen the dawn of this millennial morn- 
vol. iv. 3. r >* 



10 THE CHURCH SAFE. 

ing, nor heard the glad tidings which now reach us by every 
mail, nor had an opportunity, as now, to purchase for our 
offspring an interest in the Lord's fund. Chanty was then 
in a deep sleep. India bowed to her idols, and Africa wore 
her chains, unpitied and unrelieved. Buchanan and Wil- 
berforce, angels of mercy, were then unborn. Infidelity 
desolated the fairest provinces of Christendom, and wars 
were the applauded achievements of states and empires. 

But the age of infidelity has gone by, and the bloody clari- 
on has breathed out, I hope, its last accursed blast. Events 
are transpiring which bid fair to bind all nations in the bonds 
of love. I had read of such a period, but how could I hope to 
see it ! Christendom now unites her efforts to evangelize the 
world, and the sailor and the soldier read the precious Scrip- 
tures, and lend their aid in the good work. And must not all 
this put our unbelief to the blush, and cover us with shame ? 

The past thirty years have so outdone our highest hopes, 
as to render it impossible to predict what thirty more may 
do. God has begun to work on a scale new and grand ; 
and the inference is, that he will go on. After what we 
have seen, we could hardly be surprised if thirty years to 
come should put the Bible into every language under heav- 
en, and should send missionaries, more or less, to every be- 
nighted district of earth. Let benevolent exertion continue 
to increase in the ratio of these thirty years, and God add 
his blessing, and a few ages would evangelize the world, 
tame the lion and the asp, and set every desert with temples 
devoted to the God of heaven. When the bosom of charity 
shall beat a little stronger, if there should be the necessity, 
men will sell houses or farms to save the heathen from hell ; 
and the child will sit down and weep, who may not say, that 
his father and mother were the friends of missions. And 
what parent would entail such a curse upon his children, 
and prevent them from lifting up their heads in the millen- 
nium. I had rather leave mine toiling in the ditch, there 
to enjoy the luxury of reflecting that a father's charity made 



THE CHURCH SAFE. \\ 

them poor. Poor ! they are poor who cannot feel for the 
miseries of a perishing world ; whom God has given abun- 
dance, but who grudge to use it for his honor. Teach your 
children charity, and they can never be poor. " The lib- 
eral soul shall be made fat, and he that Watereth shall be 
watered also himself." Can this promise fail ? Then we 
can all leave our children rich, and the heirs too of a for- 
tune they can never squander. We can purchase for them 
the privilege of drawing upon the exhaustless resources of 
heaven. What a privilege now to be a parent I But I 
must return to the argument. God is doing so much for 
his church, as to warrant the inference that he will do still 
more. The hopes He raises, He will gratify. The prayer 
He indites, He will answer. To see what God is doing, I 
find it impossible to doubt his intentions. The present is a 
prelude to brighter scenes. God would not have done so 
much for his people, had he intended to abandon them. 
The church will live and prosper. Instead of trembling for 
the ark, let us weep that we ever thought it in danger. 

IV. We build the same expectations on the promises and 
prophecies. The building which we see rising, God has 
promised to finish. He has all the materials ; the silver 
and the gold are his. He has enlisted the builders, and 
prepared the necessary instruments. The decree has gone 
forth, that Jerusalem must be built. 

Early in the reign of Emmanuel, there will be universal 
peace. The nations are to " beat their swords into plough- 
shares, and their spears into pruning-hooks." "The wolf 
also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down 
with the kid." " They shall not hurt nor destroy in all " 
God's " holy mountain." " They shall sit, every man under 
his vine, and under his fig-tree ; and none shall make them 
afraid." 

But " the Gospel must first be published among all na- 
tions." On this promise there pours at present a stream of 
heavenly light. The angel " having the everlasting Gospel 



12 THE CHURCH SAFE. 

to preach unto them that dwell on the earth," is beginning 
to publish it "to every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and 
people." " Kings" are to be to the church " nursing fathers, 
and queens nursing mothers;" and some of them have al- 
ready taken hold of the work with interest. Their charity, 
their influence, and their prayers, have already contributed 
to deepen and widen the channel of that river which is mak- 
ing glad the city of God. In the progress of this work a 
nation shall be born in a day. The instance of Eimeo may 
be considered as embraced in this promise. " Thy watch- 
men shall see eye to eye." This promise has commenced 
its accomplishment in the harmony manifested in the forma- 
tion and support of Sabbath-schools, Bible, Missionary, Reli- 
gious Tract, and other benevolent Societies. The Jews are 
to return to the God of their fathers. There shines some 
light upon this promise. Some have already been converted 
to the faith of Jesus, and exertions unparalleled are making 
to bring them to the light ; while individuals of their number 
are proclaiming to their deluded brethren the unsearchable 
riches of Christ. Soon the Bible will supplant the Talmud. 

"Ethiopia shall soon stretch out her hands unto God." 
Who does not see this promise fast accomplishing ? Her 
chains are falling, and her mind expanding. There have com- 
menced a train of operations that promise the richest blessings 
to the children of Ham. Soon the Gambia, the Niger, and 
the Nile, will grace their shores with Christian temples, will 
lend their waters to fertilize a Gospel land, and bear to his sta- 
tion the zealous missionary. In the meantime, the wretch- 
ed Arab, exchanging his Koran for the Bible, and tamed, by 
its influence, to honest industry, will settle the quarrel with 
the family of Jacob, and worship in the same temple. 

If we turn to the threatenings against the enemies of the 
church, there open before us large fields of promise. Like 
the cloud that severed Pharaoh's hosts from Israel, they 
pour impenetrable darkness into the camp of the enemy, 
while they light the tents of Jacob. " The day of the Lord 



THE CHURCH SAFE. 13 

shall burn as an oven, and all the proud, yea, and all that 
do wickedly, shall be stubble, and the day that cometh shall 
burn them up, saith the Lord, that it shall leave them nei- 
ther root nor branch." Perhaps the complicated miseries 
which began in the French Revolution, and were finished 
at Waterloo, might commence the accomplishment of this 
threatening. But doubtless other storms will yet beat upon 
the camp of the enemy, more tremendous than any thing 
they have yet experienced. Some believe that the fifth vial 
has not yet been poured out upon the seat of the beast ; and 
all agree that the forty and two months, during which the 
holy city must be trodden under foot, are not yet expired. 
It is acknowledged that the period is twelve hundred and 
sixty years ; and that it commenced with the reign of the 
beast, and will probably terminate in the present century. 
Possibly our dear children may live to see the precious 
moment that shall close the period. Then the messenger 
of the covenant shall make his glorious ingress, shall de- 
stroy his enemies, shall purify the sons of Levi, and cleanse 
the offering of Judah. Then "the knowledge of the Lord 
shall cover the earth, as the waters cover the sea." Jesus 
shall take possession of the inheritance promised, " and his 
dominion shall be from sea to sea, and from the river even 
to the ends of the earth." 

Can the dejected Christian read all this, and believe it all, 
and weep still ? And for what does he weep ? God has 
begun to erect a heavenly temple, the work has never 
stopped, and he promises that it never shall. He never 
did abandon any work which he began, nor did there ever 
drop from his lips a promise that was not, or will not be ful- 
filled. And what more can he do ? Christian, you may weep 
on, but let your tears be tears of joy. Every harp should 
be snatched from the willows, new joys should be felt, and 
new anthems sung in all the assemblies of the saints. " He 
that shall come, will come, and will not tarry :" and every 
bosom should respond, " Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly." 



14 THE CHURCH SAFE. 



APPLICATION. 



1. If to any it is a burden to join in the general concert 
of prayer for Zion's increase, they can excuse themselves, 
and the glorious work will still go on. There are those 
who consider the duty a privilege. If the church could 
live without them, and duty did not bind them to pray, 
they would weep to be denied the privilege of bearing her 
interests to the throne, and of waiting for the redemption 
of Israel. Such may wait still upon the Lord, and may 
wait with confidence that every prayer will be answered, 
every tear preserved, and every hope accomplished. 

But are there those who would wish to be excused from 
this service ? who have no pleasure in the duty, and no 
faith in the promises ? Well, they can act their pleasure, 
and the church will live. But whether such will have 
any share in the glories of that kingdom whose approach 
they dread, "demands a doubt." 

2. If any grudge to contribute of their wealth for the 
advancement of the church, they can withhold. If they 
have a better use for their money, or dare not trust the 
Lord, there is no compulsion. Some liapjiy beings will have 
the honor of the work. It is to be accomplished by the 
instrumentality of men ; and if any are willing to be ex- 
cused, and insist on doing nothing, they can use their pleas- 
ure. And if such would ruin their children by holding 
them back, they can. They can form them to such habits 
that the world will never be disturbed by their munificence. 

But the work will go on. Once our fears on the subject 
were great. We doubted whether the Christian world would 
ever give the heathen the Gospel. But our fears are re- 
moved. We have now no apprehension as to the issue, and 
can only pity those who are blind to their duty, their interest, 
their honor, and their happiness. 

3. If any are willing to remain out of the kingdom of 
Christ, they can act their pleasure in this matter too. But 



THE CHURCH SAFE. 15 

who, in this event, will be the loser ? If sinners can do 
without God, he can do without them. The vast accession 
made to the church in the late revivals, and the still greater 
increase in the future years of millennial glory, will swell 
the number of the saved beyond all calculation. Sinners 
who now join the multitude, and are thus secured from 
present reproach, will soon find themselves attached to an 
insignificant and despicable minority. 

If any, then, would prefer to remain out of the kingdom, 
they have their choice, but the shame and ruin will be their 
own ; and the smoke of their torment, which shall ascend up 
for ever and for ever, will form a stupendous column, on 
which will be written, legible to all heaven, holiness, jus- 
tice, truth. 

4. If any should be disposed to enter into league with 
the lost angels and oppose the church, they can do so, and 
still the church will live. Earth and hell united can make 
no effectual opposition to her interests. God is in the midst 
of his people, and will help them, and that right early. In 
these circumstances, one shall chase a thousand, and two 
put ten thousand to flight. 

Some opposition is necessary to awaken her energies. 
Solomon was seven years building the temple, when all was 
peace ; but Ezra, with the trowel in one hand and the sword 
in the other, could build the second temple in four. The 
enemy has always promoted the interest he wished to de- 
stroy. God will make the wrath of man to praise him, and 
the remainder of wrath he will restrain. If any would 
make opposition to the growing interests of Emmanuel, they 
can ; but they will accomplish their own ruin, and perhaps 
the ruin of their children. It never was so dangerous as 
now to be the enemy of Christ's kingdom. All such must 
be crushed under the wheels of that car in which the Son 
of God is riding in triumph through a conquered empire. 
To make opposition is as unavailing as if a fly should make 
an effort to stop the sun. There await the enemies of the 



16 THE CHURCH SAFE. 

cross certain defeat, shame, and ruin. In the meantime the 
Church is Safe. 

5. Fathers and brethren in the ministry, this subject 
will raise your hopes. Are you stationed where it is all 
darkness around you, and have the hosts of hell alarmed 
you ? Cheer up your hearts. Try to penetrate the sur- 
rounding darkness, and you will soon be convinced that your 
fears are ill-timed. " Speak to the children of Israel, that 
they go forward." If night does seem to hover about us, 
still is it manifest that the day has dawned upon the hills. 
The church has never been in danger, and we ought to be 
ashamed of our fears. Be at your watch-tower, dear breth- 
ren ; turn your eye to the east, and you will soon descry the 
light. If there is any truth in the promise, and if a thousand 
transpiring events can speak, we shall soon have opportunity 
to hail Emmanuel at his second coming;. If our courage 
fails us in a day like this, we have only to lie down and die 
with shame. While the victory was doubtful, you might be 
afraid, and yet save your character ; but none are afraid 
now, but cowards. Shall we hesitate to die, if necessary, 
in securing a victory already gained, and to gain which 
many a brother has spilt his blood ? Our missionary breth- 
ren have carried the standard of the cross and planted it in 
the centre of the enemy's camp, and they are not afraid ; 
and shall we be afraid at home? If so, let us expect to 
have no share in the spoil. But, brethren, I bring no 
charge ; you are not afraid ; you will die at your post, if 
necessary, and the victory will be secured. 

6. Christian brethren, one word to you. If you are not 
officers in the camp of Israel, you are soldiers: if you may 
not command, you may fight, but not with carnal weapons. 
Let the subject inspire you with courage. A few more con- 
flicts, and your toils are ended ; the Church is safe, and you 
are safe. Only believe, and soon you will see the salvation 
of God. Amen; even so, come, Lord Jesus, come quickly! 



T¥o. 138, 



THE 



CONVERSION OF THE WORLD; 



CLAIMS OF SIX HUNDRED MILLIONS, 



ABILITY AND DUTY OF THE CHURCHES RESPECTING THEM. 



How comprehensive and how rational is that petition in 
the Lord's Prayer, " Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on 
earth as it is in heaven." What more could the most ex- 
alted piety ask ? What more could the most enlarged be- 
nevolence desire ? It includes the glory of God and the best 
good of all men. For when God shall reign on earth as he 
does in heaven, then will he appear in his glory, and then 
will there be peace on earth, and good- will among men. 
But at present how deplorable is the condition of mankind, 
and how is the God of heaven dishonored in this revolted 
world ! Idolatry and superstition prevail over the greatest 
part of the human race. The fairest portions of the globe 
are covered with Egyptian darkness, filled with wretched- 
ness, and polluted with crimes ! 

The Gospel of Christ is the remedy, which the wisdom 
and mercy of God have provided for the disorders of our 
fallen world. It is a sovereign remedy. Wherever it has 
vol. iv. 36 



2 CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 

yet prevailed, it has visibly meliorated the condition of 
men. It has rescued whole nations from the gross igno- 
ranee and the cruel rites of idolatry J and it has purified 
great multitudes of successive generations from the pollu- 
tions of sin, and prepared them for the holy society of heav- 
en. How desirable it is that the benign influence of this 
religion should be extended over all the nations of the earth ! 
How desirable that the renovating and saving power of the 
Gospel should be experienced as extensively as the ravages 
of sin have been spread in our world ! 

To this end the Son of God was born ; for this end he 
lived, and died, and revived, and rose from the dead. Hav- 
ing commanded his apostles to go and teach all nations, he 
ascended to heaven, there to reign till all the earth should 
be subjected to his authority. But though such is the be- 
nevolent design of the Gospel ; though, in condescending to 
be born, the Saviour designed to destroy the works of the 
devil, and to recover all the nations of the earth from idol- 
atry, sin, and wretchedness ; it is a- melancholy fact, that 
nearly eighteen hundred years have passed away since his 
Gospel was first promulgated by himself and his apostles, 
and yet a small proportion only of the human race have 
received the heavenly message. How shall we account for 
this fact ? If Christianity is from heaven, why is it not the 
religion of the world ? If it is the only remedy for the mis- 
eries under which the human race have groaned for six 
thousand years — if Jesus Christ is the only name under 
heaven given among men by which they can be saved — 
why do not all men everywhere invoke that sacred name ? 

The answer to these inquiries will readily occur to eve- 
ry reflecting mind. " How shall they call on him in whom 
they have not believed ? and how shall they believe in him 
of whom thev have not heard? and how shall thev hear 



CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 3 

without a preacher ? and how shall they preach, except 
they be sent ?'? Has the Gospel been preached to all na- 
tions ? We know it has not. We have then a satisfactory 
reason why all nations have not believed and obeyed the 
Gospel. We might as reasonably expect the harvest with- 
out sowing the seed, as look for the conversion of the world 
without first preaching the Gospel to all nations. 

In the Scripture, as now cited, we are plainly taught that 
the Gospel is to be propagated in the world, not by miracu- 
lous power, but in the ordinary way of instruction ; that the 
particular method of instruction which God has ordained, 
for the conversion of the world, is preaching ; and that it is 
the duty of Christians to send forth preachers of the Gospel 
in such numbers as to furnish the means of instruction and 
salvation to the whole world. 

That the Gospel is to be propagated by instruction will 
be readily admitted by all. But there may be some diver- 
sity of opinion as to the kind of instruction to be pursued ; 
whether it should be the education of children in the prin- 
ciples of Christianity, or the distribution of the Scriptures, 
or what is emphatically called the preaching of the word. 
Some may be disposed to place a greater dependence on 
one of these methods, and some on another. They are all 
doubtless the legitimate means of disseminating the Gospel, 
and will each produce the greatest effect when they all pro- 
ceed together, and are duly proportioned to each other. But 
every attentive reader of the word of God must be convinced 
that the greater stress is there placed on preaching. When 
our Lord commanded that his kingdom should be established 
in all the world, the means which he pointed out for effect- 
ing the object was, preaching the Gospel to every creature ; 
and St. Paul tells us that when the world by wisdom knew 
not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to 



4 CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 

save them that believe. It is fully implied in the declara- 
tion, that God has been pleased to appoint what the wisdom 
of this world esteems folly, namely, the preaching of the 
Gospel, as the grand instrument and means of salvation in 
all ages, even to the end of the Christian dispensation. 
Bibles should by all means be circulated extensively among 
the heathen, but ministers of the Gospel should be sent along 
with them. Thousands of Bibles may be sent with every 
preacher of the Gospel ; but they should not be sent alone. 
Sending teachers without the Bible was the error of the 
church of Rome ; let it not be the error of Protestants to 
send the Bible without preachers. 

The present position is, It is the duty of Christians to 
send forth p>reachers in sufficient numbers to furnish the means 
of instruction to the ichole icorld. 

It is the design pf God that all the nations should be 
brought to the knowledge of Christ : the appointed means 
is preaching; and preachers must be sent. By whom, then, 
are they to be sent, and what number is required? 

If Christian teachers are to be sent forth, it is obvious 
that the Christian church must send them. We cannot sup- 
pose that the world will take up the business of propagating 
the religion of Christ, or that ministers are to expect a special 
commission from heaven directing them to go to the heathen ; 
nor can we suppose that individuals will, of their own ac- 
cord and at their own discretion, go and preach to the hea- 
then : if they should do this, they would not answer the 
description which the apostle gives of Christian missionaries, 
namely, persons that are sent. 

As to the number of preachers, the same reasons which 
prove the duty of sending one, equally prove the duty of 
sending as many as are requisite to fulfil the command of 
Christ, to preach the Gospel to every creature. 



CON VERSION OF THE WORLD. 5 

If we send half a dozen missionaries to a country where 
there are as many millions of souls, we are too apt to imag- 
ine that we have discharged our duty to that country — we 
have sent them the Gospel. The fact, however, is, we have 
only sent the Gospel to a- few individuals in that nation. 
The great body of the people never hear of our missiona- 
ries, or the religion they teach. The thing that Christ 
commands is, to preach the Gospel to every creature — not 
merely to a few individuals in every nation. 

Let us not deceive ourselves by general expressions and 
vague notions. Let us look at the simple fact. The mis- 
sionary goes to some part of the heathen world ; he selects 
a town or village, the best adapted to his object, and there 
he fixes his residence. When he has learned the language 
of the people, he begins to preach to the inhabitants of the 
place where he resides, and he makes occasional excursions 
to the distance of forty or fifty miles around him. If he is 
such a man as Brainerd or Swartz, perhaps in a populous 
country some hundred thousands may occasionally hear his 
voice in the course of his ministry ; but his labors are prin- 
cipally confined to a few thousands. 

That the number of missionaries at present employed 
in preaching the Gospel among unevangelized nations is 
nothing like an adequate supply, will be evident from a 
moment's attention to the following survey, made in 1820 : 

Let the population of the globe be computed at eight 
hundred millions. 

Asia, .... 500,000,000 

Africa, .... 90,000,000 

Europe, .... 180,000,000 

America, .... 30,000,000 



Total, . . . 800,000,000 

vol. iv. 36* 



6 CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 

The number who bear the Christian name throughout 
the whole world may be ascertained with a sufficient degree 
of accuracy for the present purpose. 

Europe, we know, contains the greatest part of the Chris- 
tian population of the globe. After deducting about three 
millions of Mahometans, we may allow the whole remain- 
ing population of that quarter of the globe to be nominally 
Christian. 

In the United States of America, there are about ten 
millions that may also be reckoned Christian. The Chris- 
tian population of the European possessions in North and 
South America is not accurately determined ; but it proba- 
bly is not far from eight millions. If we include Abyssinia 
in the list of Christian nations, we may allow about three 
millions of Christians for the continent of Africa. 

The late Rev. Henry Martyn, one of the English chap- 
lains in Bengal, computed the Christians of all denomina- 
tions in India and Ceylon at nine hundred thousand. If 
we allow one hundred thousand more for the islands in the 
Indian Ocean, and one million for Western Asia, we shall 
have a total, in the whole of Asia, of two millions. 

According to the foregoing estimate, the Christian popu- 
lation of the world will stand as follows: 

In Asia, .... 2,000,000 

Africa, ..... 3,000,000 
Europe, .... 177,000,000 
America, . . . 18,000,000 



In all the world, . . . 200,000,000 

This amount deducted from the whole population of the 

earth, leaves us six hundred millions of the human race to 

whom Christ has not yet been preached. If this calculation 

is at all correct, it demonstrates the melancholy fact, that, 



CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 



in eighteen hundred years, only about one-fourth part of the 
world has been evangelized ; and that, if the progress of the 
Gospel should be no more rapid in future, than it has been 
hitherto, it will not be spread through the world in five thou- 
sand years to come. How distressing must this prospect be 
to every benevolent mind, to all who have been taught to 
say from the heart, " Thy kingdom come.'''' Let us hope, 
however, and let us pray, that God, in mercy to our mis- 
erable and guilty world, may cut short the reign of sin, and 
speedily establish the holy and peaceful kingdom of his Son 
over all the earth. 

But what exertions is the church of Christ now making 
for the advancement of the kingdom of her Lord ? What 
means are Christians using for the conversion of these six 
hundred millions of their fellow-beings, to whom Christ 
commanded that his Gospel should be preached ? What 
number of preachers have they sent forth to instruct this 
great multitude ? The whole number of missionaries now 
laboring for the conversion of six hundred millions, is less 
than five hundred in all the world \ that is, less than one 
preacher of the Gospel to one million two hundred thousand 
souls. 

Six hundred millions of the human race who want the 
Gospel, and less than five hundred missionaries to impart 
it to them ! Is it thus, O ye disciples of Jesus, that you 
repay the debt of gratitude which you owe to your Re- 
deemer, who gave himself for sinners ? He called you by 
his grace, delivered you from sin and hell, restored you to 
God, and inspired you with the blessed hope of everlasting 
life. Now he calls you to his service, and requires that 
henceforth you should live not to yourselves, but to him who 
loved you and gave himself for you, and washed you from 
j'our sins in his own blood. He confers upon you the sin- 



8 CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 

gular honor, the high privilege of going as heralds before 
him into all the world, to proclaim his approaching reign, 
and call the nations to repentance. And is it so, that among 
the millions that bear the Saviour's name, less than five hun- 
dred can be found who are willing to accept of this service 1 
It cannot be. There are, there must be, if the Gospel is 
not a fable, if religion is not a dream, there must be thou- 
sands, in different parts of the Christian world, who are 
ready, whenever the churches shall call them forth, to em- 
bark for any part of the world to spend their lives in preach- 
ing the Gospel to the heathen, who are ready and willing 
" to endure all things for the elect's sake, that they also may 
obtain the salvation that is in Christ Jesus, with eternal 
glory." 

Let the churches then consider the part that belongs to 
them in the business of evangelizing the world. It is their 
business to send forth preachers. 

If the church should at length come to the resolution 
fully and immediately to obey the Saviour's command to 
teach all nations, what number of teachers must she send 
forth in order to accomplish the object ? 

If we allow only one Christian missionary to every twen- 
ty thousand souls throughout the unevangelized parts of the 
world, the claims of the different quarters of the globe will 
be as follows : 



Heathen popu- 




Number of missionaries 


lation in 




required. 


Asia, 


498,000,000 


. 24,900 


Africa, . 


87,000,000 . 


4,350 


Europe, . 


. 3,000,000 


150 


America, 


12,000,000 . 


600 


Total, . 


600,000,000 


. 30,000 



CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 9 

Thirty thousand missionaries for the whole world. Thus 
't appears that the number of missionaries now in the field 
is, to the number required, less than one to sixty. With 
how much propriety may we say, " The harvest truly is 
plenteous, but the laborers are few !" and how much occa- 
sion is there for praying the Lord of the harvest that he 
would send forth more laborers into his harvest ! 

In the United States the proportion of Christian teachers 
is probably not less than one to every two thousand souls. 
And can it be thought too much to allow one teacher of 
Christianity to every twenty thousand pagans ? This is only 
a tenth part of the number that is thought necessary to 
watch over the churches and congregations in a Christian 
land. Is the work of converting the heathen to Christianity, 
and guarding them against numerous and powerful tempta- 
tions to apostasy, so much easier than that of preaching the 
Gospel in Christian lands, as to warrant so great an ine- 
quality in the distribution of the means of grace ? The very 
reverse is the truth. The work of a Gospel minister in hea- 
then countries is inconceivably more laborious and difficult 
than that of the pastor of a church at home. 

But there is no need of laboring this point. Every re- 
flecting person must see that if our object is to go into all 
the world and preach the Gospel to every creature, thirty 
thousand missionaries at least will be required for this im- 
mense work. It may be more necessary to give the reason 
why the number is rated so low. 

We may observe, then, that one foreign missionary to 
twenty thousand souls may be considered a tolerable supply, 
because that wherever the Gospel is preached and its power 
experienced, native preachers will be raised up on the spot 
to aid the missionaries, and ultimately to take the work off 
their hands. 



10 CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 

The Danish missionaries on the Coromandel coast, have 
been instrumental in raising up many native preachers, who 
have adorned the Christian profession, and have been able 
ministers of the New Testament. 

The Baptist missionaries in India have, at the present 
time — 1820 — about fifty preachers in their connection who 
have been converted and raised up in the country. They 
are of various descriptions, Europeans, halfcasts, Portu- 
guese, Armenians, and converted Hindoos. The number 
of country preachers in this mission is double the number 
of the missionaries sent from England. As the work ad- 
vances, the proportion of country preachers will probably 
increase. When there shall be nine native preachers to 
every foreign missionary, and one foreign missionary to 
every twenty thousand souls, then the heathen world will 
have as great a proportion of Christian teachers as the Unit- 
ed States are supposed to have. May this happy time soon 
come. 

But can the churches furnish and support so many mis- 
sionaries? We answer, they can. It would be a moderate 
calculation to estimate the number of churches in America 
at four thousand. Again, it .would be moderate to estimate 
the w y hole number of communicants in all the churches at> 
four hundred thousand. Now, could it be thought a heavy 
burden for a whole church of a hundred members, uniting 
together in the object, to select and educate one young man 
for the missionary work ? For the present, let it be admit- 
ted that each church might easily thus educate a youth, and 
that seven years would be requisite in preparing him for the 
work. Then, in the space of seven years, the four thousand 
churches would furnish four thousand missionaries. 

In the next place, let it be admitted that America con- 
tains one-fourth part of the Christian churches, and that 



CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. H 

Great Britain and all the other European States contain 
only three-fourths, which will be considered as giving the 
former more than her just proportion. Then, while the 
American churches provide four thousand missionaries, the 
European churches would provide twelve thousand, which, 
added together, would amount to sixteen thousand missiona- 
ries furnished every seven years. 

Nowj to make ample deduction for the mortality and 
defection of missionaries, let it be supposed, that of all those 
who are sent forth at any given time, one-third die or leave 
the work in seven years, two-thirds in fourteen, and the 
whole in twenty-one years. After making this large allow- 
ance, still, if the whole number of sixteen thousand were 
sent every seven years, it would appear, from accurate cal- 
culation, that in seven years from the time the churches 
began to prepare the youth, there would be sixteen thousand 
missionaries in the field ; in fourteen, there would be more 
than twenty-six thousand ; and in twenty-one years there 
would be more than thirty thousand laborers actually in the 
field. Then let one quarter of the expense in this country 
for ardent spirits be devoted to this object, and it would sup- 
port them all. Or one-twelfth part of it would support that 
proportion which would fall to the American churches. 

Here, then, is a plan, which, if entered upon immediately, 
and executed with fidelity, would, in less than twenty-one 
years, furnish such a number of missionaries as would be, 
in a good degree, a supply for evangelizing the whole world ! 
Yes, this whole supply of laborers, vast as it may seem, 
might be furnished in so short a time, that many who are 
now exhorted to aid the object might live to see it fully ac- 
complished. And what would they see ? They would be- 
hold thirty thousand ambassadors of Christ, scattered over 
the face of the whole earth, preaching the word of life to 



12 CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 

every creature. What would this be but the millennium, 
that long-expected day, when the way of the Lord shall be 
known upon earth, and his saving health among all nations ; 
and when, from the rising of the sun even unto the going 
down of the same, the name of Jehovah shall be great among 
the Gentiles, and in every place incense shall be offered to 
his name, and a pure offering. O glorious day ! and glo- 
rious that work which is to usher it in. Nor would this be 
the means simply of sending the Gospel of salvation to six 
hundred millions of heathen, but it would, 

1. Greatly promote religion among the churches at home. 
This missionary work employs every church in building its 
part of the house of the Lord. Hence, each becomes em- 
ployed in advancing that which is dearest to the hearts of 
all. Would not this tend at once to kindle that flame of 
mutual love, which would soon spread a new and glorious 
lustre over the whole of Christendom ? Besides, the work 
calls upon every individual, in every church, to build up 
his share of the walls of that heavenly Jerusalem which 
each prefers above his chief joy. Here, again, how pow- 
erfully does this unity of object tend to promote a unity of 
heart, and not only so, but a unity of views also. 

Every indie'' dual, by jmtting his hand lo the work, com- 
mences a new sort of life. Now, in all that he plans, as in 
all that he executes, he thinks of Christ, of his kingdom, 
and the salvation of sinners ; and he inquires, how can I 
best increase my industry, improve my economy of living, 
and divide my income, so as most conveniently to secure 
my share — in what ? In the glorious work of diffusing light, 
peace, joy, and salvation throughout the whole of this be- 
nighted, distracted, wretched, perishing world. Thus his 
heart swells with the greatest object that was ever presented 
to finite comprehension. With a mind thus elevated, with 



CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 13 

a heart beating strong for the renovation of the world and 
the eternal welfare of all men, he labors in his field, he goes 
to his shop, he enters his counting-room : all that he puts 
his hand to is hallowed ; for he has covenanted to build the 
house of the Lord, and his vows must be paid. He must 
therefore sacredly regard all his occupations, that he may 
not be incommoded by his annual contribution, and that he 
may by no means be wanting in his part. Thus directly does 
the work tend to lead each individual, in all his transactions, 
habitually to contemplate the cause of Christ as his own, 
and himself as a daily laborer in that cause. Whoever 
heartily espouses the missionary interest must do this ; and 
when every Christian does this, will there not be a revival 
of religion in the churches ? 

Again, behold each individual, each church, daily in 
their closets, and weekly in the sanctuary, devoutly suppli- 
cating wisdom from on high, to guide them in the choice and 
education of some pious youth, whom they may consecrate 
to the Lord, set apart for the work of the ministry, and send 
as their messenger to the heathen. Behold him fed,' and 
clothed, and taught by their charities ; nurtured by their 
daily supplications ; and sent forth, the object of their affec- 
tions and the subject of their benedictions and prayers. 
Their hearts go with him to the field of his labors ; they 
are deeply interested in every thing that concerns him ; 
they cease not to implore grace for the comfort of his heart 
and the success of his labors ; they wait, anxious to receive 
tidings from him and the flock which Providence has placed 
under his care ; and thus a portion of the heathen world 
becomes attached to every Christian congregation. Is not 
the work suited to produce all this in the hearts of all who 
are engaged in it ? And when any church is thus engaged, 

is not religion revived in that church ? 
vol. iv. 37 



14 CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 

But if each church presents such a picture of life, ac- 
tivity, zeal, and prayerfulness in the cause of God, what 
must be the appearance of all the churches of Christ, when 
thus engaged in the universal diffusion of his glorious Gos- 
pel ? Now the glory of the Lord has risen upon the churches. 
Zion has shaken herself from the dust, put on her beautiful 
garments, and shines forth " fair as the moon, clear as the 
sun, and terrible as an army with banners !" Terrible not 
only to the idols of the heathen, but also to such as are at 
ease in Zion. What else would be so likely to awaken the 
thoughtless, confound the infidel, and stop the mouths of 
gaiosayers 1 Until Christians do take up the work with a 
zeal and activity answerable to their belief and hopes'in the 
Gospel, the unbeliever may continue to say — and how cut- 
ting is the reproach — yes, sinners may still ask, " If Chris- 
tians really believe that Christ has tasted death for every 
man, that there is salvation in no other, and that a great 
part of the world are actually perishing in ignorance of 
this only Saviour of sinners ; if they really believe all this, 
wh^ do they not concern themselves to have this Gospel 
made known to every creature ? Why has this been 
neglected so long ?" 

And, alas ! the heathen join in the same bitter reproach. 
The missionary tells them that he has come to proclaim to 
them a Saviour, the Son of God, who has shed his blood to 
atone for the sins of the world ; and who has commanded 
his servants to publish the glad tidings everywhere for the 
salvation of all men. " When," says the pagan, " did this 
Saviour die ?" " Eighteen hundred years ago," replies the 
missionary. " When did he command his servants to pub- 
lish everywhere these good tidings?" "Just before he 
ascended from earth to heaven, which was shortly after his 
death and resurrection." " Surprising !" says the pagan. 



CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. J_fJ 

" If you Christians have known all these things, and really 
believe that ' where there is no vision the people perish !' 
how could you leave so great a part of the world for so 
many generations, without coming sooner to tell us of this 
only way in which we can be saved ?" What can the 
missionary say ? This is not idle fancy ; it is matter of 
distressing fact. 

O Christians, is it not time to arise and pluck this dread- 
ful weapon from the hand of idolatry abroad, and infidelity 
at home ? 

Until Christians undertake in good earnest to evangelize 
the world, their creeds and their conduct will be contradic- 
tory, sinners will be quick to see it, and when they see it, 
they will be hardened in unbelief. 

But, on the other hand, let all Christians zealously engage 
in this work, and how different would be the consequences ! 
The unbeliever would behold and wonder, and confess that 
the religion which can influence men to do and suffer so 
much, without any temporal reward, to procure the happi- 
ness of others, is not a fiction, but a solemn truth ; and that 
he must possess it himself, or be lost for ever. It is only 
when Christians act in conformity to their profession, that 
they cause their light to shine before others, and that others, 
seeing their good works, are led to repent and glorify God. 

Besides, the greater the zeal of the churches for the 
salvation of souls abroad, the greater will be their zeal for 
the conversion of sinners at home. The more missionaries 
they send to other countries, the more will they send to the 
destitute parts of their own land. The more Christians 
desire and seek the prosperity of religion in one place, the 
more they will desire it in another. Such is the nature of 
that divine love which Christ sheds abroad in the hearts of 
his people. It is a universal love. This is not naked 



16 CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 

theory. It is sentiment founded on matter of plain fact 
and divine promise. 

Look at missionary exertions in England. Do not their 
public reports tell us, that their domestic missions have gone 
on increasing in proportion to the growth of their foreign 
missions ? And if we look to our own country, will any one 
who is at all acquainted with its religious affairs, pretend to 
say that the same has not been the case here ? That promise 
is worthy of being often and emphatically repeated : " There 
is that scattereth and yet increaseth. The liberal soul shall 
be made fat, and he that watereth shall be watered also 
himself." 

2. Such missionary exertion would greatly encourage and 
strengthen the missionaries now in the field, and give much 
greater effect to their labors. 

As the work is now carried on, there is but one mission- 
ary to more than twelve hundred thousand souls. In some 
instances a single missionary is quite alone, and two, five, 
ten, or fifteen hundred miles from any fellow-laborer. In 
some cases, again, a number of missionaries are together, 
and have but a few thousand souls around them ; but more 
commonly you see one or two at a station, in the midst of 
ten, fifty, or a hundred millions of souls, with no o4her la- 
borer to help forward the conversion of the surrounding 
multitudes.. 

Thus situated, what can the missionary do? He is a 
man, and has but the strength of a man ; but the burden of 
a hundred laborers is laid on one, and he feels its weight. 
He cries out for help, but it does not come. He casts his 
eyes over the amazing multitudes thronging around him ; 
and the more he contemplates, the more vast the work before 
him appears, and the more severely his burden presses upon 
him. He cries again for help. The churches hear his 



CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 17 

call, but are slow to regard it. Perhaps he is encouraged 
with the hope that by and by some one will be sent to his 
aid ; and it may be that he has no better prospects than that 
he shall labor in solitude, perhaps be the means of gathering 
around him, for instruction, a little flock : and then he must 
die ; and there being no one to step into his place, the little 
flock is scattered, and the labor and expense of his mission 
are in a great measure lost. 

The mode of conducting missions at present, in most 
cases, is in fact like sending one soldier to storm a fort — 
five to conquer a province — a hundred to subjugate an em- 
pire ! Should these soldiers flee from the fight, what wonder ? 
Or should they by a miracle of valor prostrate many of the 
foe, and effect a standing upon his territory ; how long could 
they maintain their ground, and what would be gained in 
the end, unless a suitable reinforcement were seasonably 
sent to their aid, to secure what had been gained ? 

The missionary sees many ways of advancing the work ; 
he forms judicious plans, and yet, having but half the means 
of executing them, they lie neglected ; or if he attempts to 
execute them, he either soon fails, or drags them on at the 
greatest disadvantage ; and he is continually under the dis- 
tressing apprehension that he shall finally fail through want 
of help, and that thus he shall be found to have labored in 
vain, and spent his strength for naught. 

The missionary, though entirely alone, and under cir- 
cumstances the most discouraging, ought indeed to stand 
firm and do the work of an evangelist, putting his trust in 
God for all that he needs, and for all that the cause requires. 
Such is undoubtedly his duty. But in devising the wisest 
methods of conducting missions, the manner in which the 
minds even of good men will probably be affected by cir- 
cumstances, must come into the account. And it must be 
vol. iv. 3T* 



1Q CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 

obvious, from a moment's reflection, that such circumstances 
as have been described — and such circumstances have ex- 
isted, and do still exist — must tend greatly to weaken the 
hands and discourage the hearts of missionaries. Those who 
are alone, will feel it the most severely ; but everywhere, 
according as the magnitude of the labor is disproportion- 
ate to the strength of the laborers, it will tend to discourage 
their hearts, and thus prevent that degree of good which they 
would do if suitably assisted. To increase the number of 
missionaries, therefore, is not merely to add the labor of so 
many hands to the work, but to give a twofold greater 
efficacy to the exertions of all who are engaged in it, by 
enabling them to labor at a vastly greater advantage. 

3. The state of those Christians who, as has been ob- 
served, are to be found either in the midst, or in the vicinity 
of Pagans and Mahometans, presents urgent reasons for 
sending missionaries. 

These Christians are numerous, many of them merely 
so in name ; they are degraded, and as really perishing for 
lack of knowledge as the heathen themselves. They are so 
closely connected, by country, language, and manners, with 
Pagans and Mahometans, that a revival of religion among 
them would not only be for their own salvation, but would 
be " as life from the dead " to the surrounding nations. 
Such a revival would be to Africa and Asia much like the 
Reformation to Europe. The honor of the Redeemer, and 
the perishing condition of these men, loudly call upon the 
churches to send missionaries to seek their welfare. How 
can they thus see their brethren have need, and shut up 
their bowels of compassion from them ? Missionaries ought 
to be sent immediately, because no more of these persons 
ought to be left to perish in ignorance ; and because the 
-facilities offered through them for widely diffusing the know- 



CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 19 

ledge of Christ, are too great, and the duty is too obvious, too 
imperious, to be neglected a single year longer. 

4. The great provision made for supplying almost all 
nations with the Bible, is another reason why the churches 
should make equal provision for furnishing them with the 
preaching of the Gospel. 

Societies formed for the distribution of the Scriptures 
are almost innumerable. Great provision is also made, and 
extensive plans are going forward, for giving the Bible both 
to heathen and Mahometan nations. In these benevolent 
plans all seem to unite with zeal and liberality. 

But is the distribution of the Bible, in this new era, to 
supersede the sending of preachers ? Is there not some 
great and alarming error, which makes the churches so 
zealous in providing for the heathen to read the gospel, and 
so remiss in providing for them to hear the gospel ? Is not 
the latter, rather than the former, the great means which 
Christ has ordained for evangelizing the world ? Why, 
then, should the order which he has prescribed be reversed ? 
especially when it is considered that in heathen nations all 
have ears to hear the gospel, while, comparatively, buxfew 
of them, through their great ignorance, could read the Bible, 
if given to them in their own language. Besides, as to thos 3 
who might be able to read, their degraded minds are so 
deplorably darkened, and so completely absorbed in every 
thing that is hostile to the purity of the gospel, that while 
perusing the mysteries of godliness, were any of them in- 
terrogated, as Philip asked the eunuch, " Understandest thou 
what thou readest V would he not answer, as the eunuch did, 
" How can I, except some man should guide me ?" Acts 8:31. 
The fault is not that Christians have too much zeal for 
giving the Bible to every creature. This can never be. 
The fault is rather that they have too little zeal for sending 



20 CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 

missionaries with the Bible, to preach it. Unless the 
churches will come forward, and give to the preaching, 
the simple preaching of the gospel, that preeminence which 
Christ has given it, will they not find, by and by, that they 
have labored much, and expended much ; and that it has 
issued in little else than the disappointment of their hopes, 
and the waste of their liberalities ? And would not this 
soon extinguish a noble and almost essential part of that 
zeal which must eventually carry the Gospel to every crea- 
ture, and thus reduce the Christian world to her former 
apathy, from which she is now so fast emerging ? 

Now, the churches have it completely in their power to 
prevent these deplorable consequences, by hastening to the 
field a reasonable number of missionaries. Let this be done, 
and every correct translation of the Scriptures, which other- 
wise must be of but little use, would become of unspeakable 
value ; and the numerous institutions and societies, and the 
great zeal and patronage enlisted for the distribution of the 
Scriptures, would become a vast engine in the promotion of 
Christian knowledge. 

5. The ease with which the churches might send out the 
requisite number of missionaries, is another reason why they 
should do it. 

The more easy and palpable any duty is, the greater is 
the guilt of neglecting it. But to many, it is to be feared, 
missions are one of those things which they do not like to 
consider, lest they should find their duty to be such as they 
are not willing to perform. 

When Christ commands his disciples to evangelize all 
nations, he does not require them to perform the work of 
conversion on their hearts. This is his own prerogative. 
He only requires them to use the appointed means to this 
f>nd ; this is, to preach the Gospel to every creature. Now, 



CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 21 

if Christians will come forward and do their part of the 
work, will Christ fail to do his ? If they will fulfil his 
command, and go and teach all nations, will not he fulfil his 
promise, and cause all nations, whom he has made, to come 
and worship before him ? 

It is true, that thus to preach the Gospel in all the world 
is a great and arduous work. Taken up by a few, as before 
observed, the burden would be intolerable ; but if each one 
will bear his part, the burden will be light. If all will put 
forth but moderate exertions, all that is required of Chris- 
tians, as their part, will soon be done. With what ease, as 
has been shown, the whole number of missionaries might be 
furnished ! With what ease might they all be supported ! 

O, that Christians of all denominations would duly con- 
sider the infinite magnitude of this work, and the ease with 
which they might accomplish it ! Indeed, the whole matter 
appears so plain, that if any pious person would give it the 
slightest consideration, it does seem that he must see a cloud 
of overwhelming arguments to convince him of his duty, 
and of motives not less overpowering, to persuade him to 
do it. 

Should we undertake, by a course of reasoning, to prove 
to any pious Christian that he and every other man ought 
immediately to espouse the cause of missions, and zealously 
engage in this work of evangelizing the world ; instead of 
waiting to be convinced by arguments, that such was his 
duty, would he not impatiently exclaim, " Forbear, I pray 
you. Do not think me an infidel. Hinder me not with 
your arguments. I am not only convinced, but I am ready 
to act. Why should you think me so blind as not to under- 
stand my dearest Lord, when he so plainly commands his 
disciples to evangelize all nations ? or why should you think 
me so selfish as not to be willing to do my share in this most 



22 CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 

blessed work ? Why should you labor to convince me that 
the churches are perfectly able to comply with their Lord's 
direction, as though I thought he could command an unrea- 
sonable and impracticable thing ? and as though I had no 
discernment to see that the work, great as it is, if divided 
among the whole mass of Christians, would leave but a small 
share for each to do 1 Why do you strive to show me that 
the salvation of a world of immortal souls is an object infi- 
nitely surpassing in magnitude our highest comprehension, 
and that an obligation equally great binds every Christian 
to exert himself to the uttermost to accomplish it ? Why 
would you convince me of this — as though I have not yet 
learned from the Saviour that a single soul is of more value 
than the whole world ; or as though I had no belief in those 
endless woes which await every soul that is out of Christ, 
or in those everlasting joys which are prepared for all who 
believe in him ; or as if I had no heart to feel for the hea- 
then — no desire for their salvation ? Why, as though I 
were an alien from Israel, must I be beset with arguments 
to show me, that when Christians shall all thus come for- 
ward to the help of the Lord, then religion will be revived 
in the churches, and the ways of Zion will rejoice ; she will 
be as a city set on a hill, whose light will shine through the 
darkest and most distant parts of the world • then Jerusalem 
will be a praise in all the earth ; Zion will appear glorious, 
and her King will be exalted high above all nations ; then 
will the' heathen cast away their abominations, cease the 
adoration of their senseless gods, throw their idols to the bats 
and the moles, and join in that heavenly anthem, ' Worthy 
is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, 
and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and bless- 
ing ; for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by 
thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and 



CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 23 

nation, and hast made us unto God kings and priests.' Rev. 
5 : 9, 10, 12 ; Isa. 62 : 2 ; Isa. 61:11; Isa. 62 : 3 ; Isa. 2 : 
2. Then will Christ 'see of the travail of his soul, and be 
satisfied;' for 'he shall have the heathen for his inherit- 
ance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for his possession.' 
' The heathen shall fear the name of the Lord ; the Gentiles 
shall see his righteousness, and all kings shall behold his 
glory :' ' for everywhere the name of the Lord shall be 
great among the heathen, righteousness and peace will spring 
forth before all nations, and Zion will be a crown of glory 
in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of 
her God.' ' For in that day the mountain of the Lord's 
house shall be established in the top of the mountains, and 
shall be exalted above the hills, and all nations shall flow 
unto it and be saved.' 

" Yes," exclaims the Christian, " I believe that such are 
the glorious things which are spoken concerning Zion, and 
the assurance that such a blessed period awaits this guilty 
World gives me joy unspeakable. Nor am I so ignorant as 
to suppose that this millennial glory will ever overspread 
the world by any other means than the power of the Holy 
Ghost, accompanying the preaching of the Gospel to every 
creature." 

Would Christians awake and cause the Gospel thus to 
be preached in all the world, we might be sure, from divine 
promise, that the glorious period would at once be ushered 
in. Will God thus bring to the birth, and not cause to brino- 
forth ? No, as soon as the churches awake to their duty, 
as soon as Zion thus travails, she will bring forth her chil- 
dren — " a nation shall be born at once." Isa. 66 : 8, 9. 

Blessed era, when Satan's kingdom shall be overthrown ; 
when a world, dead in sin, shall be raised to spiritual life, 
and joys everlasting ; when all nations shall glorify the Sav- 



24 CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 

iour and exalt the name of Jehovah ! O Christians, fly to 
the work ; do it with your might ; the motives to it are infi- 
nite ; now is the accepted time. The heathen are before 
you ; their present miseries and their impending ruin call 
upon you to hasten to them the word of life ; your Re- 
deemer bids you go and pluck them as brands from the 
burning : to-day if ye will hear his voice, harden not your 
hearts. 

O ye blood-bought churches of Christ, let the cry among 
you be, " Whom shall we send, and who will go for us as 
our messengers to the heathen ?" And O, ye pious youth, 
in Christ's strength, let the echo among you be, " Here are 
we, send us." Most happy, most blessed will be the indi- 
vidual, the church, the nation, who shall be earliest, longest, 
and most faithful in his glorious work. And may the God 
of all grace mercifully bestow this greatest of all blessings 
upon America, her churches, and her youth. Amen. 



The above is the joint production of the Rev. Gordon Hall, 
and the Rev. Samuel Newell, late American missionaries at 
Bombay, India. The Rev. Mr. Newell was removed from his 
earthly labors and entered into rest, May 30, 1821. The Rev. 
Mr. Hall, after having just addressed to the American churches 
another circular, breathing the same spirit as the above, departed 
Uiis life on the 20th March, 1826. 



No. 139. 

CONTENTMENT IN HUMBLE LIFE, 

A MEMOIR 

OF 

THOMAS HOGG. 




On the Sabbath, January 9, 18 — , as 1 was proceeding 
in the services of the day, my attention was attracted by a 
wretched object seated in the nave of the church. There 
was an air of devout seriousness about him, under all the 
disadvantages of tattered garments and squalid appearance, 
which afforded a favorable presentiment to my mind. When 
the service was over, the stranger disappeared. 

Conceiving that he was a poor passing beggar, who had 
been allured within the precincts of God's temple by the 
vol. iv. 38 



2 CONTENTMENT IN HUMBLE LIFE. 

fire in the stove, I made no inquiry about him. To my as- 
tonishment, however, on the following Sabbath the same 
object presented himself, and took his station, as before, 
near the stove. He seemed to be a man decrepit with 
age : his head, resting upon his bosom, which was partly 
exposed, betokened considerable infirmity. Under a coarse 
and dirty sackcloth frock, was to be seen a soldier's coat 
patched in various places, which was strangely contrasted 
with the cleanliness of his shirt. His whole appearance 
was that of the lowest degree of poverty. The same de- 
vout attention to the services of the day, which I had re- 
marked on the previous Sabbath, inspired in me a hope, 
that he was a spiritual, though humble worshipper of that 
common Father, a disciple of that common Saviour, at 
whose footstool we were prostrating ourselves in united 
adoration. 

When the service was concluded, I inquired who the old 
man was. " Sir," replied my informer, "he is a person who 
works at the blacksmith's shop ; he is a remarkable man, 
and carries about with him a Bible, which he constantly 
reads." 

A secret pleasure stole through my heart at this delight- 
ful intelligence ; and I could not but feel gratified at the 
prospect of seeing a man, who, under such appearances of 
misery, made the word of God his companion and guide. 

Having taken an early opportunity, in the course of the 
w T eek, to pay him a visit, I found him standing by the side 
of the forge, putting some links of iron wire together, to 
form a chain to suspend scissors. The impressions of 
wretchedness excited by his first appearance, were now 
greatly heightened by the soot, which, from the nature of 
his occupation, had necessarily gathered round his person. 
After a few general observations, I went to Mr. H. S., the 
master of the shop, and from him learned some particulars 
of the poor man's history. He informed me, that on Tues- 
day the 4th of January, in the severely cold weather which 



CONTENTMENT IN HUMBLE LIFE. 8 

then prevailed, this destitute object came to his shop, al- 
most exhausted with cold and fatigue. In his passage 

through the neighboring village of P , he had been 

inhumanly pelted with snow-balls by a party of boys, and 
might probably have perished, but for the humanity of 
some respectable inhabitants of the place, who rescued 
him from their hands. Having reached Mr. S.'s shop, he 
requested permission to erect, in a shed which adjoined the 
shop, his little apparatus, consisting of a slight table, with 
a box containing his tools. The benevolent master of the 
premises very kindly desired him to come in, and stationed 
him near the forge, where he might pursue his work with 
advantage by the side of the fire. In the evening, when 
the workmen were about to retire, Mr. S. asked him where 
he intended to lodge that night. The old man inquired if 
there were any ox-stall or stable near at hand, which he 
might be permitted to occupy ? His kind benefactor of- 
fered his stable. Accordingly, the poor creature, with his 
box and table upon his back, accompanied Mr. S. home, 
where as comfortable a bed as fresh straw and shelter 
from the inclemency of the weather could afford was made 
up. One of Mr. S.'s children afterwards carried him some 
warm cider, which he accepted with reluctance, express- 
ing his fears lest he should be depriving some part of the 
family of it. 

Early the next morning Mr. S. went into the stable, 
and asked the poor stranger how he was. He replied, " I 
am very happy." Having risen from his straw bed, and 
dressed himself — for he always took off his clothes at night, 
and wrapped himself in a blanket which had been given 
him — he soon joined his hospitable friend, and resumed his 
post by the side of the forge. This station Mr. S. humane- 
ly allowed him to retain as long as he needed it, and, to 
his honor be it spoken, he contracted so great a regard for 
the good old man as to be unable to speak of him, even at 
this time, without emotion. I have heard him declare that 



4 CONTENTMENT IN HUMBLE LIFE; 

he never learned so complete a lesson of humility, con- 
tentment, and gratitude, as from the conduct of this man. 
Little did he think, at this time, how soon his lonely guest 
was to become an inhabitant of that blissful world where 
there is neither sighing nor sorrow, " where the wicked 
cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." Little 
did he think that so soon that unsightly and despised body 
should be gathered to its dust, to be fashioned ere long 
"like unto Christ's glorious body," a fit casket for the in- 
estimable jewel of a soul cleansed in the blood of the Re- 
deemer from all earthly impurities, and made "meet for the 
inheritance of the saints in lio-ht." What a lesson, this, on 
the duty of prompt and cheerful attention to the wants of 
the stranger and the destitute ! What a comment on the 
gracious declaration of our Saviour, " Inasmuch as ye did 
it unto the least of these my brethren, ye did it unto me." 

The poor creature's days and nights continued to be 
passed much in the manner above described ; with the ex- 
ception, that he had exchanged the stable, at night, for the 
shop, which was warmer, and in which Mr. S. permitted 
him to remain, as soon as he was satisfied respecting his 
principles. He daily pursued, with exemplary diligence, 
his humble employment of making chains and skewers, 
although, as I after Avards learned, he was unable, even with 
success in disposing of his Avares, to earn more than six- 
pence or seA r enpence a day. 

Mr. S. added, that he believed him to be a sincere 
Christian ; that he always carried a Bible with him, Avhich 
he used attentively to read, Avhen least liable to interrup- 
tion ; and that he never partook of any of his slender meals 
Avithout first taking off his hat, and, as Avas judged from his 
attitude and the motion of his lips, imploring the blessing 
of Him Avho clothes the lily and feeds the young ravens, 
but Avhose special mercies are reserved for those who put 
their trust in him ; and who not only commands us, Avhether 
we eat or drink, or .whatever Ave do, to do all to his glory-, 



CONTENTMENT IN HUMBLE LIFE. 5 

but encourages even the most afflicted and indigent of his 
faithful followers to be " careful for nothing, but in every 
thing with prayer and thanksgiving to let their requests be 
made known unto him," and that he will supply all their 
needs, both for body and soul, if not in the way most con- 
genial to their wishes, yet in that which shall most conduce 
to their spiritual and eternal welfare. 

This poor man's conduct was uniformly consistent with 
his Christian profession. Never does his protector recollect 
hearing an angry word or a murmuring expression from his 
lips ; although, in addition to his bitter poverty and priva- 
tions, he was frequently tried by the impertinent curiosity 
and irritating remarks of persons who came into the work- 
shop where he was carrying on his humble operations. 

The first Saturday which he spent in this village, Mr. S. 
particularly remarked, that at an early hour in the afternoon 
he put by his work, and began to hum a hymn-tune. He 
asked him if he could sing. "No, sir," he replied. "I 
thought," added Mr. S., "I heard you singing." "I was 
only composing my thoughts a little," said the good man, 
"for the Sabbath." What a contrast to the busy worldli- 
ness which so often devotes the Saturday evening to more 
than the ordinary fatigue and bustle of secular pursuits, 
intrenching on the very limits of the Sabbath, and unfitting 
both the mind and body for a vigorous discharge of its du- 
ties, and the enjoyment of its hallowed pleasures ! Hoav 
much more fervent and delightful would be the hours of 
this privileged season, if, whenever practicable, Christians 
would endeavor, before the close of the preceding day, to 
forget their worldly cares, and to attune their hearts to the 
spiritual feelings of this interval of sacred rest ! 

On receiving the communication of the foregoing partic- 
ulars, I^was induced to return to the poor stranger, with a 
view to converse with him a little. There was a peculiar 
bluntness in his manner of expressing himself, but it was 

very far removed from any thing of churlishness or incivili- 
vol. iv. 38* 



6 CONTENTMENT IX HUMBLE LIFE. 

ty. All his answers were pertinent, and were sometimes 
given in such measured terms as quite astonished me. The 
following was a part of our conversation : " Well, my 
friend, what are you about?" "Making scissor-chains, 
sir." "And how long does it take you to make one?" 
With peculiar archness he looked up in my face, for, as was 
before observed, his head always rested upon his bosom, so 
that the back part of it was depressed nearly to the same 
horizontal plane with his shoulders, and with a complacent 
smile, said, " Ah ! and you will next ask me how many I 
make in a day, and then what the wire costs me, and after- 
wards, what I sell them for." From the indirectness of 
his reply, I was induced to conclude that he was in the 
habit of making something considerable from his employ- 
ment, and wished to conceal the amount of his gains. But 
when I became better acquainted with his manner, and 
found that, after his utmost exertion, he could scarcely ob- 
tain the meagre pittance before mentioned, I perceived that 
his apparent reluctance to make known his poverty, pro- 
ceeded from his habitual Christian contentment. I next 
asked him why he followed his present vagrant life, in 
preference to a stationary one, in which he would be better 
known and more respected. "The nature of my business," 
he replied, " requires that I should move about from place 
to place, that, having exhausted my custom in one spot, I 
may obtain employment in another. Besides," added he, 
" my mode of life has, at least, this advantage, that if I 
leave my friends behind me, I leave also my enemies." 
When I asked him his age, he replied, with a strong and 
firm voice, " That is a question which I am frequently asked, 
as if persons supposed me to be of a great age ; why, I am 
a mere boy." "A mere boy!" I repeated, "and ipray, 
what do you mean by that expression ?" " I am sj-\tv-li\ e 
years of age, sir, and with a light heel and a cheerful heart, 
hope to hold out a considerable time longer." Indeed, he 
seemed always happy ; even in the period of his subsequent 



CONTENTMENT IN HUMBLE LIFE.' 7 

extreme suffering, his bosom appeared scarcely capacious 
enough for his joyful feelings. I can do but little justice 
to the hilarity of his heart, for it was a matter of astonish- 
ment to all who witnessed it. The spring of his cheerful- 
ness was religion. Nothing seemed to damp his confidence 
in God. 

The divisions which distract the church of Christ being 
alluded to, I lamented that there should be any separation 
between men whose hopes and interests are the same. He 
immediately rejoined, in his native sprightly manner, " No 
matter; there are two sides to the river:" intimating, as I 
concluded, that although separated for a time by the waters 
of discord which flow between them, all who are the true 
servants of Christ are pursuing the same direction, and will 
find their course terminate at the same point. There were 
many other instances of his readiness in reply, which have 
escaped my recollection. 

In the midst of the din of business, the roaring of the 
forge bellows, and the deafening noise of the hammer and 
anvil, I regret that I had but little opportunity of entering 
deeply into religious subjects. What, however, he said, 
though I cannot recollect the particulars, gave me an ex- 
alted idea of his contentment, cheerfulness, and genuine 
piety. 

Before I took my leave of him, I asked how long he 
intended to remain in the village. He answered, " I do not 
know ; but as I have houseroom and fire without any tax, 
I am quite satisfied with my situation, and only regret the 
trouble I am occasioning to my kind host." 

From that period to the 20th of the month, being much 
engaged with domestic concerns, I saw but little of him. 
On the morning of that day I met him creeping along under 
a vast burden, having previously heard that he had set out 
on the preceding Monday, on a journey to Bristol, to pro- 
cure a fresh stock of wire. There he had nearly expended 
his little all; and, with half a hundred of wire upon his 



8 CONTENTMENT IN HUMBLE LIFE. 

back, and three half- pence in his pocket, the sole remains 
of his scanty fund, he returned on foot to this place. He 
had been two days on the road, and had passed the inter- 
vening night before a coal-pit fire in the neighboring village. 
The snow was lying deep upon the ground, and the scene 
was altogether desolate beyond description. I was glad 
once more to see him, and accosting him, inquired if he 
were not very tired. "A little, a little," he replied. Then 
taking off his hat, he asked if he could execute any thing 
for me. I gave him an order for some trifling articles, 
which he brought to me on the following Wednesday. He 
came to my house just as I was engaged on particular busi- 
ness ; I went out, however, for a few minutes, and, after pay- 
ing him for the articles, entered into conversation with him. 
He repeated many admirable adages, with which his mem- 
ory appeared to be well stored, and incidentally touched 
upon the word cleanliness. Immediately I added, " Clean- 
liness is next to godliness," and seized the opportunity 
which I had long wanted, but from fear of wounding his 
mind, hesitated to embrace, to tell him of the absence of 
that quality in himself. He with much good nature replied, 
" I believe I am substantially clean. I have a clean shirt 
every week ; my business, however, necessarily makes me 
dirty in my person." "But why do you not dress more 
tidily, and take more care of yourself? You know that 
God has given us the comforts of life that we may enjoy 
them. Cannot you afford yourself these comforts ?" " That 
question," said he emphatically, but by no means rudely, 
" you should have set out with. No, sir, I cannot afford 
myself these comforts." 

His long fustian trowsers concealed nearly the whole of 
his foot ; but about the instep I thought I perceived consid- 
erable inflammation, and made inquiry respecting it. " Oh, 
it is nothing particular," said he; "it is a little tender." 
Perceiving that he had a miserable pair of shoes upon his 
feet, I asked him if he thought he could wear a pair of 



CONTENTMENT IN HUMBLE LIFE. 9 

mine. He said he felt obliged to me for my kind intention, 
but he would not trouble me. I however fetched a pair, 
and with much persuasion made him accept them. He 
expressed himself much gratified ; only adding, with his 
accustomed humility, that they were too good. I mention 
these circumstances, in themselves trifling, to show how 
very different was the conduct of this poor man from what 
might have been expected from a person in his destitute 
condition. I am persuaded that it was riot apathy or pride, 
but a far higher principle, that thus had taught him, in 
whatever situation he was, "therewith to be content." 

My engagements now requiring my presence elsewhere, 
I left the poor creature for the present, by the side of my 
kitchen fire, determining to see him the next day, and to 
have some farther conversation with him. 

When I visited him, I found him in his usual station, 
working upon his chains. He was sitting — a posture in 
which he did not often indulge. I requested to look at his 
foot, for it was turned away from me towards the wall. 
With the greatest astonishment and alarm, I found the 
whole leg, from the foot to the knee, very black and prodig- 
iously swollen. He continued to manifest his usual cheer- 
fulness. "I must insist," said I, "upon your allowing 
something to be done to it. The doctor is expected in the 
village to-day, and you must see him ; I will give orders 
for him to call upon you." "That is kind, very kind," he 
replied. At this moment some ignorant prattler in the 
shop was exclaiming, in a very vexatious and offensive man- 
ner, that he would not have such a leg — taking off his hat — 
for that full of guineas. The old man looked up somewhat 
sharply at him, and said, " Xor I, if I could help it." The 
other, however, proceeded with his canting, when the 
afflicted creature added, " You only torture me by your 
observations." This was the only instance approaching to 
impatience witnessed by those who had the most constant 
access to him. 



10 CONTENTMENT IN IR'MBLE LIFE. 

I proposed getting a bed for him, for I found that of 
late he had slept in one corner of the workshop upon the 
bare earth, without his clothes, the blanket, as customary, 
being wrapped round his shoulders. We wished to procure 
him a bed within some habitable abode ; but he preferred 
remaining where he was, and requested us only to provide 
for him some clean straw. As he seemed fixed to his pur- 
pose, we consented to comply with his wish ; and, after 
arranging every thing as well as we could for his accommo- 
dation, I mentioned my intention of immediately sending 
him some warm broth, which he declined with his usual 
answer, " I have had enough ; it would be intemperate." I 
then left him under the care of his worthy friend. 

The next morning I visited my patient as early as I 
could, and was greatly alarmed to find that the swelling 
and blackness of his leg had increased, and were now ex- 
tending themselves rapidly towards the vital parts of his 
body. The blood which had oozed from his wound had 
literally soaked his straw bed, and his leg was unprotected 
from the friction of the straw, and Avas exposed to the cold 
air ; for his extremities, when I came into the shop, were 
entirely naked. He was at times delirious, and his whole 
frame was in a degree convulsed ; but he dozed during the 
greater part of the day. Nothing could exceed this picture 
of misery ! Having attended to his immediate wants, I 
went up by his side, and gently inquired how he was. From 
his head being muffled- in his blanket, he did not hear me. 
Mr. S. removed the clothes, and asked, "How are you?" 
" Happy, happy !" was the reply. " I am truly grieved, 
my friend," I said, " to see you in this deplorable condition. 
Are you suffering much pain ?" "I am sick," said he, 
" and very weak." At this moment the arrival of the med- 
ical gentleman was announced. I ran to him, and begged 
that he would come and see this wretched object. He 
accompanied me back to the workshop, which he had no 
sooner entered, than T perceived, by an involuntary gesture, 



CONTENTMENT IN HUMBLE LIFE. 1 1 

that he had not before witnessed many such objects of mis- 
ery, even in a very extensive country practice. He at once 
informed me there was but little hope of life. Warm fomen- 
tations, and large doses of bark and port wine, he said, were 
the only remedies. Of course no time was lost in adminis- 
tering them. I had previously provided a bed in a neigh- 
boring house, and informed the suffering patient of my wish 
to remove him to it, and my anxiety that he should take 
the medicines prescribed. He very meekly submitted to 
all I proposed, saying that he was willing to take any thing : 
but he added, " One night more, and I shall be beyond this 
world." 

The next morning, Saturday, I found him lying in the 
comfortable bed to which we had carefully removed him 
the preceding evening, in his usual calm and contented 
frame of mind, willing to live, but still more willing to die. 
I cannot describe the dreadful appearance which his whole 
body now assumed. His leg was again fomented, and he 
partook of some broth with eagerness, but his dissolution 
was evidently drawing near. His speech was almost unin- 
telligible. Delirium became more frequent, and his hands 
were often apparently employed in the task to which they 
had been so long habituated, making links for chains : but, 
alas, it was a fruitless effort, no wire was now near him, no 
chains were the result of his labors. By addressing him, 
you seemed for a moment to recall his mind from its aber- 
rations, and during such intervals he was perfectly collected. 
His respiration became more and more hurried. Finding 
that there was scarcely a ray of hope of preserving his life, 
I requested that he should be allowed to remain quite quiet 
upon his bed, being simply supplied with what sustenance 
was necessary. After his attendants were gone, I sat down 
by his bedside, and said to him, " I am afraid you are very 
ill ; but I trust you have no fears respecting your future 
happiness, should it please God to summon you to appear 
before him ?" He opened his eyes, and instantly said, 



12 CONTENTMENT IN HUMBLE LIFE. 

" Fed by his hand, supported by his care, 
I scarce can doubt : why then should I despair ?" 

"Ah, my friend," I rejoined, "what an inconceivable bless- 
ing it is to have the Son of God for our friend !" " It is. it 
is !" said he, in a tone and manner that indicated that he 
was accustomed to look to God through that Divine Medi- 
ator, and that he was practically acquainted with the truth 
of that scriptural declaration, To them that believe, Christ 
is precious. 

Seeing his spectacles lying upon his pillow, I said, 
"There are your spectacles ; but I do not think they have 
brought your Bible : I dare say you w r ould like to read it ?" 
" By and by," he replied: "I am pretty well acquainted 
with its contents." 

All his fire had now expended itself. I found him artic- 
ulate so indistinctly, and he appeared so exhausted, that 
after commending him to the protection of his God and 
Saviour, I took my leave of him. As I was departing, he 
said, "You have done your duty to me, I can say it with- 
out flattery." 

Alas ! I pray God to pardon my coldness, my inactivity, 
my general remissness ! May I learn more diligently to 
work while it is called to-day, since the night cometh in 
which no man can work ! Oh, how many opportunities of 
doing or receiving good do we suffer to pass unimproved, 
not knowing their value till they are for ever beyond our 
reach ! 

On Sabbath morning, the knell too well convinced me 
that my humble friend was no more. I hastened to his 
chamber. His happy spirit had fled to the bosom of his 
Maker. He died about two o'clock in the morning without 
a sigh. His last word was, in answer to the question, How 
are you ? " Happy " — a happiness built upon a solid foun- 
dation ; for, notwithstanding his afflictions in this world, the 
Saviour was his friend, the Holy Spirit was his comforter, 
and God was his portion and exceeding great reward. 



CONTENTMENT IN HUMBLE LIFE. 13 

I could not avoid adverting, in my discourses on that day, 
to the happy circumstances of this departed saint, who, 
without a friend, excepting those whom Providence had 
unexpectedly raised up in his necessity, and without any 
earthly comforts, had so completely divested himself of 
every murmur and complaint. Surely, nothing but divine 
grace could have enabled him thus to triumph in tribulation. 
It was in the school of Christ, as I have before remarked, 
that he had thus learned, in whatsoever state he was, there- 
with to be content. 

It has been already mentioned, that this poor man was 
a regular frequenter of divine worship, and a diligent reader 
of that holy book which was able to make him wise unto 
salvation, through faith that is in Christ Jesus. I add with 
much pleasure, what might have been anticipated, that he 
was also "a man of prayer." The first night of his taking 
to his straw bed, being exceedingly indisposed, he retired 
before the men had left their work. Mr. S. missed him 
from the shop for a considerable time ; and going into an 
adjoining storeroom in which no business was done, he 
found him in the posture of devotion, praying to his " Father 
who seetli in secret." This, no doubt, was his constant 
practice ; but as Mr. S. and his men usually quitted their 
work before the old man retired to rest, his habits of secret 
communion with God were now for the first time discovered. 
He Avas one of the last of men to sound a trumpet before him ; 
so that it is impossible to ascertain to Avhat extent he carried 
his habits of prayer and reading the Scriptures, in addition 
to those sacred meditations which doubtless cheered his 
mind throughout the day, in the midst of his solitary and 
monotonous employment. 

In an early stage of our acquaintance, I had learned that 
he had a considerable taste for versification, and that he 
used occasionally to amuse his leisure hours by composing 
a poem. My first step, therefore, after his decease, was to 
get possession of his manuscripts, of which I found two 
vol. iv. 39 



14 CONTENTMENT IN HUMBLE LIFE. 

books of considerable thickness, which appeared to be 
duplicates. From them I was confirmed in the opinion, if 
indeed I needed any farther confirmation than what my own 
eyes and ears had witnessed, that his religious principles 
were strictly consonant to that holy book which he so much 
valued, and which he made his companion and guide. In a 
blank leaf of his Bible is written, " Thomas Hojw, born in 

' DO' 

Jedburg, 1753. 

" Yes, dust and ashes is my proper name — 

' Ready to perish,' is my title clear. 
From two poor rebels, I their offspring came, 
My first, my native attribute is fear : 
Yet, let thy love on this dark void descend, 
All shall be safe — the Three in One my friend." 

The poem ends with a prayer to be " built up in wisdom 
and usefulness." 

Upon the cover of the book in which he has entered his 
poems, I find the following passages : " To you, men, I 
call, and my voice is to the sons of men." Prov. 8 : 4. 
"Hear, for I will speak of excellent things." Prov. 8 : 6. 
" Thy statutes have been my songs in the house of my pil- 
grimage." Psalm 119. "And they sung a new song." 
Kev. 5:9. 

I regret that an epitaph which he composed for himself 
cannot be found. He once repeated it to Mr. S., and prom- 
ised to give him a copy of it ; but death put a stop to that, 
as well as to many other intentions. His longest poem, 
which consists of nearly two thousand lines, is entitled 
"The Flower Knot, or Guidepost." In a short preface 
he states, that " twenty lines or thereabouts were the most 
he could compose in a week ; and sometimes he had written 
none for half a year or longer." The chief subjects of his 
poem are thus arranged by himself: " Introduction, holiness, 
prudence and reason, wit, honesty and decency, sympathy, 
gratitude, hope, humility, temperance, chastity, passion, 
power, truth, wisdom, love, faith." 



CONTENTMENT IN HUMBLE LIFE. 15 

The particulars which I have been enabled to gather of 
my humble friend's history, in addition to what has already 
been related, are very few. He was a namesake of the 
Ettrick Shepherd, and a fellow-countryman, but I am not 
aware that they were related. He was brought up, I find, 
in a religious family ; and in his youth had serious im- 
pressions of eternal things upon his mind. These, however, 
grew feebler by intercourse with the world, although they 
do not appear ever to have entirely forsaken him. He left 
his home at an early period of life, and for some time carried 
hardware about the country. This business becoming un- 
productive, about fourteen years since he took to the em- 
ployment in which I found him engaged, making scissor- 
chains and skewers. Twenty-nine long years had passed, 
he told me, since he had visited his native place ; nor could 
I learn what had alienated him from his family and friends. 
A hedge, or a stable, was to him an asylum of peace — the 
habitation of contentment ; for he carried that tranquillity 
within him which was not to be ruffled by the adventitious 
circumstances of life. The vagrancy of his life necessarily 
exposed him to much hardship ; and his pious soul must 
have been frequently " vexed with the filthy conversation 
of the wicked." Whether he had the habit of boldly re- 
proving the sinner, when he daringly violated the laws of 
his God, I cannot affirm, not having been present on any 
such occasion ; but, judging from his ordinary freedom in 
expressing his mind, and from his courage in sustaining many 
of the ills of life, I should imagine he would suffer few 
opportunities to pass of reproving or exhorting, where pru- 
dence and discretion marked out the duty. Sometimes, 
doubtless, his mind must have been depressed by anxious 
fears, or disappointed hopes. There were seasons when the 
"candle of the Lord" did not shine so clearly upon his 
path as at other times : during such periods he used to sing 
Addison's beautiful version of the 23d Psalm, to which he 
added a verse of his own composition, which I have in vain 



16 CONTENTMENT IN HUMBLE LIFE. 

endeavored to find. He called it the Traveller's Song. It 
was peculiarly appropriate to his own case, exposed as he 
was, solitary and wandering, with none to look up to for 
support or protection, but the Helper of the friendless. 

Thus have I presented a faithful, though imperfect his- 
tory of a poor man, who, in the lowest depths of poverty, 
evinced such remarkable contentment and cheerfulness under 
severe sufferings, as may well excite us to godly jealousy, 
and animate us to aspire after like precious faith ; a man 
who showed no symptoms of a desire to hurry from life, 
yet was ready at all times to obey his great and final sum- 
mons, and the practical language of whose life was, " To me 
to live is Christ, to die is gain." 

Reader, how does this simple tale call upon you to adore 
the Father of all mercies, who graciously furnished a poor 
object, in the lowest depths of earthly misery, with prin- 
ciples capable not barely of supporting him, but of enabling 
him to soar far above the afflictions of mortality ! No one, 
I feel assured, can doubt whence this man obtained his 
transcendent faith. It was of no common stamp : it was 
not the spontaneous growth of the human heart ; it must 
have come from heaven. 

Permit me, then, to remind you, that the same faith 
which supported him, the same principles by which he was 
actuated, may be obtained by you. The Divine Spirit, who 
implanted them in the subject of this memoir, offers to pro- 
duce them in you. And can I wish you a richer gift ? Can 
I take my leave of you in a more affectionate manner, than 
by praying that the same Spirit would make you like-minded 
with this humble but exemplary follower of a suffering and 
crucified Saviour? 



No. 140. 

THE 

SEAMAN'S CHART: 

AN ADDRESS 

BEFORE 

THE PORTLAND MARINE BIBLE SOCIETY. 



BY REV. EDWARD PAYSON, D. D. 



To every one who possesses a particle of the spirit of 
our Saviour, it cannot but be highly gratifying to contem- 
plate the gradual expansion of Christian benevolence ; the 
wide, and still wider circle of objects, which it has progres- 
sively extended its arms to embrace, during the last half 
century. At the commencement of this period, scarcely a 
solitary individual was heard to raise his voice in favor of 
the much-injured and enslaved Africans. Now, their cause 
is pleaded with success before parliaments and senates ; and 
powerful states make it an object of attention, in their 
negotiations with foreign powers. Then, excepting in this 
country, the numerous children of the poor were left, with- 
out education or moral instruction, a prey to ignorance and 
to every species of vice. Now, in many parts of Europe, 
national societies are formed, and schools established on an 
extensive scale, to improve at once their morals and their 
minds. Then, the circulation of the Scriptures was confined 
within comparatively narrow limits ; and of those by whom 
they were possessed, very few even thought of sending 

them to the destitute. Now, thousands of hands are open 
vol. iv. 39* 



2 THE SEAMAN'S CHART. 

to distribute, and tens of thousands extended to receive the 
inestimable gift. Then, the religious interests of the heathen 
were neglected. Now, the heralds of the cross preach to 
them, in many different languages, and in widely distant 
parts of the world, " the unsearchable riches of Christ." 
Then, no provision was made for the spiritual wants of our 
own destitute countrymen. Now, means are in operation 
to furnish them with able and faithful religious instructors. 
Then, the descendants of Abraham were forgotten, or re- 
membered only to be despised. Now, vigorous and widely 
extended efforts are made, to effect their conversion to 
Christianity. Then, too, mariners, composing a numerous 
and highly useful class of citizens in every commercial coun- 
try, and forming a kind of connecting link between the dif- 
ferent nations and parts of the world, were left to suffer, in 
their full force, all those moral and religious privations to 
which their occupation subjects them ; so that they might, 
with very few exceptions, have exclaimed, We are men 
"" whom no one seeketh after : no man careth for our souls." 
Not only Christian nations, but Christian individuals, while 
enjoying the foreign productions procured for them by the 
toils and perils of their seafaring brethren, seemed to forget 
that they were feasting on "the price of blood " — the blood 
of neglected and perishing immortals. 

But to this long-neglected class of society also, Christian 
benevolence now extends her hand. Now, the spire of 
"the Mariner's Church" rises in the midst of commercial 
cities, pointing the tempest-tossed sons of ocean to a haven 
of rest above. Now, "the Bethel Flag," under which sea- 
men and landsmen unite to worship Him who governs earth 
and sea, waves in many of their harbors. Now, Marine 
Bible Societies are formed ; and the chest of every sailor 
may contain, if he will accept of it, that inestimable treas- 
ure, the book which makes men "wise unto salvation." 



THE SEAMAN'S CHART. 3 

We rejoice to see, in the " Portland Marine Bible Soci- 
ety," a proof that this recently awakened spirit of concern 
for the religious interests of seamen lives and breathes 
among ourselves. We rejoice, my seafaring friends, to see 
so many of you assembled here, on this occasion. Most 
cordially do we bid you welcome, a thousand times welcome 
to the temple of him, who is no less your God than ours. 
Welcome, welcome, weary, weather-beaten sailor, to the 
place where rest is offered to the weary in the name of 
Jesus Christ. For you this place is now opened. For you 
this Bible Society was formed. For you this meeting was 
appointed. For you our united prayers have now ascended 
before the mercy-seat of heaven. You it is, whom, as 
friends and brothers, the speaker now purposes to address. 

And why does he address you ? Why have we invited 
and welcomed you here this evening ? Because you are 
our fellow- creatures, our fellow-immortals. Because you 
are our shipmates in the great ship of this world ; and are 
sailing with us to the shores of eternity. Because you 
have something within you, which thinks and feels ; and 
that something is an immortal soul : a soul worth infinitely 
more than all the merchandise which you ever assisted in 
conveying across the seas ; a soul worth more than all the 
stars which twinkle above you, while keeping your evening 
watch on deck ; a soul, which will continue to live, and to 
be happy or miserable, when all those stars are quenched 
in everlasting night. Yes, mark me, shipmates, you have, 
each, such a soul within you : a soul dear to him who made 
it ; a soul for whose salvation Jesus Christ shed his blood ; 
and for the loss of which, the whole world, could you gain 
it, would be no compensation. 

This precious freight, these immortal souls, are em- 
barked in frail vessels, on the dangerous voyage of life ; a 
voyage, which you are even now pursuing, and which will 



4 THE SEAMAN'S CHART 

terminate, either in the port of Heaven, or in the gulf of 
Perdition. To one or the other of these places, you are all 
bound. In one or the other of them, you will all land at 
death. In which of them you shall land, will depend on 
the course you steer. These are the reasons why we feel 
concerned for you ; why we address you. We wish you to 
steer a safe course. We know there is but one such course. 
We wish you to make sure of a good harbor, in which you 
may rest quietly, after the toilsome voyage of life is ended. 
We know there is but one such harbor. We know that this 
harbor is not easy to find. We know that the sea over 
which you sail is full of sunken rocks and quicksands, on 
w T hich many a brother sailor has made shipwreck of his soul. 
Your voyage is, therefore, exceedingly dangerous. We 
meet you pursuing this voyage, and wish to speak you. 

When you speak a vessel, one of the first questions you 
ask her is, " Where are you bound ?" Allow me to ask you 
the same question. Ho, there, creature of God, immortal 
spirit, voyager to eternity ! whither art thou bound ? Heard 
I the answer aright ? Was it, "I don't know ?" Not 
know where you are bound ! Heard you ever such an an- 
swer to this question before ? Should you hear such an 
answer from a spoken vessel, would you not conclude its 
crew to be either drunk or mad ? and would you not expect 
soon to hear of its loss ? Not know where you are bound ! 
And have you then, for so many years, been beating about 
in the fogs of ignorance and uncertainty ; Avith no port in 
view ; the sport of storms and currents ; driven hither and 
thither as the winds change, without any hope of ever mak- 
ing a harbor, and liable, every moment, to strike upon a lee 
shore ? Not know where you are bound ! Alas, then, I 
fear you are bound to the gulf of Perdition ; and that you 
will be driven on the rocks of Despair, which are now right 
ahead of you, and which, sooner or later, bring up all who 



THE SEAMAN'S CHART. 5 

know not where they are bound, and who care not what 
course they steer. If I have taken my observation cor- 
rectly, you are in the lee current which sets directly into a 
gulf where you will find no bottom with a thousand fathom 
of line. Not know where you are bound ! You must then 
be in distress. You have either unshipped your rudder, or 
you have no compass, chart, or quadrant on board ; nor any 
pilot who can carry you into the port of Heaven. 

And what pilot, you will perhaps ask, in reply, can 
carry us there ? Who can tell us, with certainty, that there 
is any such port ? On what chart is it laid down ? And how 
do we know — how do you know — how can any man know, 
that what you have now told us is true ? 

These are fair questions, shipmates, and you shall have 
an answer ; but allow me, first, to ask you a few questions. 
Should you see a fine ship, well built, handsomely rigged, 
and completely equipped for a voyage, could any man make 
you believe, that she built herself ? or that she was built by 
chance ? or that she sprung, like a bubble, out of the sea ? 
Would you not feel as certain, that she was the work of 
some builder, as if you had stood by, and seen him shape 
every timber, and drive every bolt ? And can you, then, 
believe, that this great ship, the world, built itself? or that 
it was built by chance ? or that it sprung out of nothing 
without any cause ? Do you not feel as certain, that it Avas 
made by some great, and wise, and powerful builder, as if 
you had stood by and seen him make it *? Yes, you will say, 
every ship is built by some man ; but he that built all things 
must be more than a man : he must be God. 

Another question : Should you see a vessel go every 
year, for many years successively, to a distant port, and 
return at a set time ; performing all her voyages with per- 
fect regularity, and never going a cable's length out of her 
course, nor being a day out of her time, could you be made 



6 THE SEAMAN'S CHART. 

to believe that she had no commander, pilot, or helmsman 
on board ; that she went and came of her own accord ; or 
*that she had nothing to steer her but the wind ? Would 
you have any more doubt that she was imder the command 
of some skilful navigator, than if you were on board, and 
saw him ? Look then, once more, at this great ship, the 
world. See how regularly she makes her annual voyage 
round the sun, without ever getting out of her course, or 
being a day out of her time. Should she gain or lose a 
single day in making this voyage, what would all your 
nautical tables be good for ? Now, would she go and come 
with such perfect regularity and exactness of her own ac- 
cord ? or with no one to regulate her course ? Can you 
any more doubt that she is under the direction of some 
skilful commander, than if you saw him regulating all her 
motions ? But if the world has a pilot, a commander, who 
is he ? Ay, shipmates, who is he ? . Is it any of her crew ? 
You know, that if they should all imite their strength, they 
could neither move her, nor alf er her course a hair's breadth. 
Who, then, can it be ? But why need I ask ? Who can 
regulate all the motions of the world, except He that made 
the world ? And remember, shipmates, if God is here to 
regulate her course, he must be here to see how the crew 
behave. 

Once more : Would a wise owner put a crew on board 
a vessel, and send her to sea, bound on a long voyage, with- 
out a compass, chart, quadrant, or pupt, to be driven just 
where the winds and waves might carry her, till she foun- 
dered, or went to pieces on some rocky shore ? JSo, you 
reply, no wise owner, no man, that cared any thing either 
for the ship, or the ship's company, would act in this man- 
ner. And would the good, the all-wise God, then, who made 
the world, and placed us in it, act in such a manner ? Cer- 
tainlv not. It would be insulting him to think so. You 



THE SEAMAN'S CHART. 7 

may be certain, therefore, that he has taken care to provide 
a safe harbor, in which, when the voyage of life is ended, 
we may ride secure from every danger; that he has fur- 
nished us with every thing necessary to assist us in shaping 
our course for that harbor ; and that he has provided a skil- 
ful pilot, who will carry us into it, if we put ourselves under 
his care. 

And, shipmates, we can tell you, for God has told us, 
that he actually has done all this. As a harbor, he has pre- 
pared heaven for us ; a place so glorious, that the sun is not 
fit to be a lamp in it. Could you grasp the world like an 
orange, and squeeze all the happiness it affords into a single 
cup, it would be nothing to one drop of the waters of life, 
which flow there like a river. For a commander and pilot, 
he has given us his own Son, Jesus Christ, the Captain of 
salvation ; beyond all comparison the most skilful, kind, and 
careful commander, that ever seaman sailed under. He can 
carry you, and he alone can carry you, safely into the port 
of Heaven. No soul ever found its way into that port with- 
out him. No soul which put itself under his care, was ever 
lost. Finally, for a compass, chart, and quadrant, God has 
given us the Bible ; and most completely does it answer the 
purpose of all three. By this book, as a compass, you may 
shape your course correctly ; for it Avill always traverse 
freely, and it has no variation. By this book, as a quad- 
rant, you may at any time, by night or by day, take an 
observation, and find out exactly where you are. And in 
this book, as on a chart, not only the port of Heaven, but 
your whole course, with every rock, shoal, and breaker, on 
which you can possibly strike, is most accurately laid down. 
If, then, you make a proper use of this book, mind your helm, 
keep a good look-out, and carefully observe your pilot's di- 
rections, you will without fail make a prosperous voyage, 
and reach the port of Heaven in safety. It may not, how- 



8 THE SEAMAN'S CHART 

ever, be amiss, to give a few hints respecting* the first part 
of your course. 

If you examine your chart, you will find put down, not 
far from the latitude in which you now are, a most danger- 
ous rock, called the rock of Intemperance, or Drunkard's 
rock. This rock, on which there is a high beacon, is almost 
white with the bones of poor sailors who have been cast 
away upon it. You must be careful to give this rock a good 
birth, for there is a very strong current setting towards it. 
If you once get into that current, you will find it very diffi- 
cult getting out again ; and will be almost sure to strike and 
go to pieces. You will often find a company of wreckers 
round this rock, who will try to persuade you that it is not 
dangerous, and that there is no current. But take care how 
you believe them. Their only object is plunder. 

Not far from this terrible rock, you will find marked, a 
whirlpool, almost equally dangerous, called the whirlpool 
of Bad Company. Indeed, this whirlpool often throws vessels 
upon Drunkard's rock, as it hurries them round. It lies 
just outside the gulf of Perdition ; and* every thing which it 
swallows up is thrown into that gulf. It is surrounded by 
several little eddies, which often draw mariners into it before 
they know where they are. Keep a good look-out, then, for 
these eddies, and steer wide of this whirlpool ; for it has 
swallowed up more sailors than ever the sea did. In fact, 
it is a complete Hell-gate. 

Besides this whirlpool and rock, there are several shoals 
laid down in your chart, which I cannot now stay to describe. 
Indeed, these seas are full of them, which makes sailing here 
extremely dangerous. If you would be sure to shun them 
all, and to keep clear of the terrible gulf already mentioned, 
you must immediately go about, make a signal for a pilot, 
and steer for the straits of Repentance, which you will then 
see right ahead. Those straits, which are very narrow, form 



THE SEAMAN'S CHART. 9 

the only passage out of the dangerous seas you have been 
navigating, into the great Pacific ocean, sometimes called 
the Safe sea, or sea of Salvation, on the further shore of 
which lies your port. It is not very pleasant passing these 
straits ; and therefore many navigators have tried hard to 
find another passage. Indeed, some, who pretend to be 
pilots, will tell you there is another ; but they are wrong ; 
for the great Master Pilot himself has declared, that every 
one who does not pass the straits of Repentance will cer- 
tainly be lost. 

As you pass these straits, the spacious bay of Faith 
will begin to open, on the right hand side of which you will 
see a high hill called Mount Calvary. On the top of this 
hill stands a lighthouse, in the form of a cross ; which, by 
night, is completely illuminated from top to bottom, and, 
by day, sends up a pillar of smoke, like a white cloud. It 
stands so high, that unless you deviate from the course laid 
down in your chart, you will never lose sight of it in any 
succeeding part of your voyage. At the foot of this light- 
house you will find the pilot I have so often mentioned, 
waiting for you. You must by all means receive him on 
board ; for without him, neither your own exertions, nor all 
the charts and pilots in the world can preserve you from 
fatal shipwreck. 

As you enter the bay of Faith, you will see, far ahead, 
like a white cloud in the horizon, the high lands of Hope, 
which lie hard by your port. These lands are so high, that 
when the air is clear, you will have them constantly in sight 
during the remainder of your voyage ; and while they are 
in sight, you may be sure of always finding good anchoring 
ground, and of safely riding out every storm. 

I might proceed to describe the remainder of your 
course, but it is needless ; for you will find it all in your 
chart, the Bible. With this chart, the Society which in- 

VOL. iv. 40 



10 THE SEAMAN'S CHART. 

vited you here this evening, are ready to furnish every 
destitute seaman ; and they do it on purpose that your 
voyage may be prosperous, and its termination happy. 

And now, shipmates, let me ask you one question more. 
Should a ship's crew, bound on a long and dangerous voy- 
age, refuse to provide themselves with either quadrant, 
chart, or compass ; or, being furnished by their owner with 
these articles, should stow them away in the hold, and 
never use them, never mind their helm, keep no look-out, 
pay no regard to their pilot's directions, but spend their 
time in drinking and carousing ; have you any doubt that 
they would be lost^ before their voyage was half over? 
And when you heard that they were lost, would you not 
say, It is just as I expected ; but they have no one to blame 
except themselves? Just so, my dear shipmates, if you 
refuse to receive the Bible, the book which your Maker and 
owner has given, to assist in shaping your course ; or if you 
lav this book aside in your chests, and never study it ; or 
if you study it, and do not shape your course by it, nor pay 
any regard to the directions of Jesus Christ, your com- 
mander and pilot, but make it your only object to live an 
easy, careless, merry life ; be assured that you will make 
shipwreck of your souls, and founder in that gulf which has 
no bottom ; and while you feel that you are lost, lost, lost 
for ever, you will also feel that you have no one to blame 
for it but yourselves. You cannot blame God, your Crea- 
tor and owner ; for he has kindly given you his only Son to 
be your pilot, and his book to be your chart. You cannot 
blame your fellow- creatures ; for, by thejiands of this So- 
ciety, they now offer you this book, " without money and 
without price." You cannot blame the speaker ; for he has 
now told you what will be the consequence of neglecting 
this book. O, then, be persuaded to receive it, to study it, 
and to shape your course by it. 



THE SEAMAN'S CHART. H 

Become yourselves members of this Bible Society, and 
persuade your comrades to do the same. Wherever you 
see the Bethel flag hoisted, rally round it. As often as you 
have an opportunity, visit the house of God on the Sabbath, 
to hear what Jesus Christ has done for poor seamen. If 
you see a brother sailor becalmed by the way, or steering 
another course, lend him a hand, and take him with you. 
Whenever you are keeping your evening watch on deck, 
look up, and see the God of whom you have now heard — 
the God whose name, I fear, some of you "take in vain," 
throned in awful silence, and darkness, and majesty, on the 
sky, crowned with a diadem of ten thousand stars, holding 
the winds and thunderbolts in his hand, and setting one foot 
on the sea, and the other on the land, while both land and 
sea obey his word, and tremble at his nod. 

This, shipmates, is the God under whom we wish you 
to enlist, and to whom we wish you to pray. This is the 
God who now offers to be the poor sailor's friend ; and who, 
in all your voyages, can carry you out in safety, and bring 
you home in peace. This, too, is the God whom we shall 
all one day see coming in the clouds of heaven with power 
and great glory, to judge the world. 

Then, at his command, the earth and the sea shall give 
up all who had been buried in the former or sunk in the 
latter, and they shall stand together before God to be 
rewarded according to their works. then, seamen, lands- 
men, whoever you are that hear, prepare, prepare for this 
great day. Yes, prepare, ye accountable creatures, prepare 
to meet your God ; for he has said, Behold, I come, I come 
near to judgment ! " And hath he said it, and shall he not 
do it ? Hath he spoken, and shall he not make it good ? 
Yes, when his appointed hour shall arrive, a mighty angel 
will lift his hand to heaven, and swear by Him who liveth 
for ever and ever, that there shall be time no longer. 



12 THE SEAMAN'S CHART. 

Then our world, impetuously driven by the last tempest, 
will strike, and be dashed in pieces on the shores of Eternity. 
Hark ! what a crash was there ! One groan of unutterable 
anguish, one loud shriek of consternation and despair is 
heard, and all is still. Not a fragment of the wreck remains, 
to which the struggling wretches might cling for support ; 
but down, down, down they sink, whelmed deep beneath 
the billows of Almighty wrath. But see, something appears 
at a distance mounting above the waves, and nearing the 
shore. It is the Ark of Salvation ! It is the Life-boat of 
heaven ! It has weathered the last storm ; it enters the 
harbor triumphantly ; heaven resounds with the acclama- 
tions of its grateful, happy crew ! Among them, may you 
all, shipmates, be found. May the members of this Society, 
believing and obeying, as well as distributing the Scriptures, 
save both themselves and the objects of their care. And 
may every perishing immortal in this assembly, now, while 
the Ark is open, while the Life-boat waits, while the rope 
of Mercy is thrown within his grasp, seize it, and make eter- 
nal life his own ! 



I\o. 141 



THE 



SABBATH AT SEA ; 



OR, 



THE HISTORY 



SAMUEL NEWMAN. 




TTTTi. 



The Hope, of London, Captain James Adams, of 180 
tons, left England about the latter end of April, 1818, with 
a cargo for the Mediterranean. She chartered again in 
Sicily, after an intermediate voyage, and loaded fruit, in the 
spring of the year 1819, for Petersburgh. After another 
trip to a port in the Mediterranean, she arrived in London 
towards the spring of the year 1820. 
vol. iv. 40* 



2 THE SABBATH AT SEA. 

Capt. Adams bad for his mate Samuel Newman, a tol- 
erably steady young man, about twenty-six years of age. 
Newman bad early taken to a sea-life, but not before be had 
acquired the arts of reading and writing, and had received 
many good admonitions from his pious mother, who had 
been left a widow when Samuel was about seven years old. 
The advice and example which he had also had from the 
teachers of a Sabbath-school, which he attended for two 
years, the very important portions of Scripture, the instruc- 
tive hymns, which, as lessons, he had committed to memory, 
and his constant attendance upon public worship, when a 
youth, were advantages which he did not at first value so 
highly as he was enabled to do afterwards. 

When he first went to sea he was on board a ship bound 
up the Baltic, whose master was a sober man and a good 
sailor. The crew were also rather above the ordinary class 
of seamen. When he next changed his ship, he changed 
for the worse ; and bad company, worse books, and immoral 
songs, were productive of associations which led him into 
the paths of sin and folly. His conscience had often dis- 
quieted him, because he knew that he sinned against the 
light and knowledge which he had acquired before he went 
to sea. Sometimes he endeavored to pacify conscience, by 
making himself merry with an extra quantity of liquor ; but 
the misery to which such indulgence would inevitably bring 
him, was happily too evident for him not to see his danger, 
and he had grace given to withstand the temptations. Al- 
though he had frequently found means to quiet, or rather 
to stupify conscience for a time, its upbraidings returned 
oftener than he liked, and he felt that every way of trans- 
gression is hard. The Hope, in which he now sailed, might 
be called a comfortable vessel. 

Newman was an excellent sailor, fearless in the ship's 
duty, diligent, and trustworthy ; qualities which had brought 
him from before the mast, and had advanced him to the 



THE SABBATH AT SEA. 3 

station of mate. In this station his conduct was meritori- 
ous ; but as to his duty towards his Maker, his mind was 
thoroughly unconcerned. 

When he left the Sabbath-school, he received a Bible, 
which he had always taken to sea with him, but it was gen- 
erally left at the bottom of his chest. The very sight of it 
was, to speak the truth, unpleasant ; and its aspect appeared 
reproachful. He would have liked to make it his friend and 
companion, because he knew that, were its society accepta- 
ble, it could not but make its willing associate happy : yet, 
for want of resolution ; for want of a suitable friend to 
encourage him ; in short, for want of sufficient inclination to 
consult it, he neglected his Bible, and it was, almost the 
whole of the voyage, his sleeping fellow-traveller. 

Something like this was the state of Newman's mind, 
when, on the forecastle, looking out ahead, as the Hope 
came up the pool, he saw a large, lofty vessel riding by 
herself, with only one jurymast, and totally unlike a mer- 
chant ship. He knew that she could not be a king's tender, 
as she was without a pendant ; and while amusing himself 
with conjecture what she could be, and still more amazed, 
as he drew near, by perceiving a large entrance-port in her 
bow, and a landing stage near the water's edge, he looked 
eagerly, as he passed the stern, for information. 

He read as he passed, " Chapel for Seamen ;" and 
immediately concluded that this was the "Ark," of which 
he had heard some rumors from sailors whom he had seen 
in the Mediterranean. 

The " Chapel for Seamen' gave instant birth to a thou- 
sand confused ideas relative to his earliest youth. He 
remembered the prayers of his mother, and was greatly 
affected by the recollection of the tears she shed when he 
first left her to go to sea, and the advice which his mother 
and his teachers pressed upon him as to his future conduct ; 
nor did the dormant state in which his Bible had been suf- 



4 THE SABBATH AT SEA. 

fered to lie so long, escape the whispering accusations of 
conscience. He sighed, and wished, but what his wishes 
were was not clear even to himself ; but though confused, 
they were sincere ; and this became prayer to Him " who 
seeth in secret, and despiseth not the sighing of the contrite 
heart ; nor the desire of such as be sorrowful." 

This sight of this " Chapel for Seamen" had unques- 
tionably pleased him. His heart felt the cheering sensation 
of hope, that, now he was returned to London, and there 
was a Chapel for Seamen, he should in some way be the 
better for it. 

The brig brought up in a tier just above the " Ark," and 
scarcely was she fast before he was with the pilot, hoping 
to learn from him what he wanted to know. "Was the 
Chapel entirely for seamen? Might any sailor go there? 
Whose was it ? Who preached there ? Was it for cap- 
tains, or for common sailors as well as for masters ? Was 
it free, and open every Sabbath? And what were the 
hours ?" Such was the nature of Newman's inquiries. But 
as the Chapel had no attractions for the pilot, he could give 
him no information ; except, indeed, that he had heard that 
many seamen went every Sunday, and that some enthusi- 
asts, well-meaning, perhaps, but more zealous than vise, 
wanted to make converts of the sailors. 

Newman's curiosity was by all this rather increased, to 
see the inside of this ship so converted into a floating 
church. 

He cast many a look towards her as he attended his duty 
on board the Hope ; he sighed from the very weight of his 
own emotions, and fervently longed for the coming Sabbath. 

Captain Adams had also eyed the Floating Chapel, as 
the Hope passed her, and although he made no inquiry 
about her, he had made many observations. He, too, had 
inwardly determined to visit the Chapel, of which he had 
heard when abroad more than had come to the knowledge 



THE SABBATH AT SEA. 5 

of his mate. When the latter respectfully asked permission 
to go on the Sabbath to the Chapel, the captain consented 
cheerfully, and, to Newman's high delight, declared his 
intention to go with him. 

At length the Sabbath came ; and as early as some 
necessary duties would permit, he went to his berth and 
dressed himself in his best suit. He then walked the deck, 
watching at every turn, as the expected hour drew near, 
whether any thing was doing on board the Ark. He ob- 
served the ensign displayed at the staff, the jack forward, 
and a pendant at the mast-head ; and at ten o'clock the 
Blue Peter run up, which, as he was informed by a water- 
man, was a signal for the congregation to assemble ; and 
when he saw several ship boats pulling towards her, full of 
people, he could no longer refrain from going to the cabin 
to inform the captain, who was reading below. The rest 
of the crew being also desirous of seeing the Chapel, their 
own boat was soon manned ; and leaving the boy to keep 
ship, they were soon alongside the after-stage of the Ark. 
Other boats arrived at the same time, and Newman entered 
the place of worship with a sense of awe, attended with a 
sensation of delight. He could hardly believe his eyes, 
when he saw the galleries, the pulpit, and every accommo- 
dation of a spacious chapel ; and his heart rejoiced when 
he cast his eye on the benches already occupied by seamen, 
in clean jackets and trowsers, some reading, some sitting as 
if meditating, and all in perfect silence, decorously waiting 
the commencement of divine service. 

He and his shipmates took their seats beside the sailors, 
and when he saw some, on entering, fall upon their knees 
for a minute or two, for silent prayer, his tears could no 
longer be restrained. He wished to do so too, but was 
ashamed ; yet, as he sat with heart and eyes full, ere he 
was aware, he inwardly and fervently prayed for God's 
blessing on himself and his shipmates. 



G THE SABBATH AT SEA. 

The prayers, reading, and preaching, were very inter- 
esting to him ; but when the psalm wa3 given out — the 
words suiting his frame of mind — and he, at last, was ena- 
bled to join his voice of praise and thanksgiving with the 
animating voices of hundreds of seamen, he felt a delight 
which made him really despise all which he had before 
called pleasure. 

Captain Adams had met with some brother captains, who 
had invited him to take a seat with them in the gallery, 
formerly the gun-deck, when the ship was in his majesty's 
service as the " Speedy''' The scene and the solemnities 
were not lost upon him, and he acknowledged himself, at 
the conclusion of the worship, to have been highly gratified, 
and declared his purpose to renew his visit. 

For the information of strangers, notice was given that 
in the evening the seamen would assemble for prayer and 
praise. Newman was earnestly desirous to be with them, 
and asked and obtained his captain's permission. The even- 
ing meeting was not so numerous as that in the morning. 
It was composed mostly of seamen of religious character, 
in number about one hundred. Here was a new scene. 
Newman had formerly often been present when the gentle- 
men who had acted as teachers at the Sabbath-school had 
engaged in prayer ; he had also heard extempore prayer by 
ministers at the chapel where he attended, when he belonged 
to the school : but it was beyond any idea which he had 
formed, that a sailor, in his jacket and trowsers, should pray 
without a book ; and when he heard sailor after sailor offer 
most solemn prayer, in easy, intelligible, and Scriptural 
language ; asking for just such mercies as he knew he stood 
in need of, and returning for himself and those around him 
thanks for the blessings which he knew he had enjoyed, and 
often without a thought of gratitude to their bountiful Be- 
stower, his heart melted within him. He had, with the 
other sailors, now kneeled down ; and, concealed by his 



THE SABBATH AT SEA. 7 

hands, which covered his face, he gave vent to his feelings, 
and let his tears flow freely. 

At the conclusion of this affecting service he withdrew 
with a full heart, and returned to his ship with emotions 
really indescribable. While in port, he continued a con- 
stant attendant on the public worship on board the chapel. 
Sometimes, also, he visited his brethren, who invited him to 
their week-evening meetings for prayer, on board other ships 
under the care of the Seamen's Bethel Union Society. He 
found these meetings more and more attractive. 

The sight of so many sailors on their knees, and the 
sound of sailors' voices, artlessly and fervently implorino- 
God to forgive their sins, and expressing thankfulness for a 
cheering hope of eternal blessedness through Jesus Christ, 
were deeply fixed in Newman's mind. He thought of it 
over and over again, and was led on by degrees to consider, 
that, if other sailors were thus concerned for their souls, he, 
a sailor too, ought not to be indifferent about his oivn. 

He remembered some of his former companions, who 
had died ; and some who, in the midst of their strength, 
had lost their lives by sudden and violent accidents at sea ; 
and concerning whom he could not but apprehend that they 
were not prepared for heaven. The question then occurred 
to him, but their souls ! where are they ? He hesitated long 
in venturing on a reply. Again he thought, had I been 
then summoned to appear before God, where might my 
soul have now been ? This came still closer home to him. 
He remembered that his life had been thoughtless, and sin- 
ful ; and that a sea-life, especially, is exposed to many and 
peculiar dangers, and that death might on a sudden hurry 
him to his final account. 

About the time when his mind was thus exercised, he 
heard an animated preacher speak largely on the serious 
question proposed by our Lord, as recorded by St. Matthew, 
16 : 26, "For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the 



8 THE SABBATH AT SEA. 

whole world, and lose his own soul ? Or what shall a man 
give in exchange for his soul?" In the course of the ser- 
mon, the preacher represented the infinite value of the soul, 
by showing the eternity of its existence ; and alarmed his 
conscience by a description of the solemnities of the day of 
judgment. Thus awakened, conscience, which had often 
been lulled by the general idea of God's infinite mercy, now 
rejected this plea as insufficient, because God's infinite jus- 
tice still remained unsatisfied. He felt that God is as holy, 
just, and true, as he is merciful ; and was penetrated with 
the conviction, that the holiness, justice, and truth of God, 
required a full atonement for the sin which he had commit- 
ted. He thought of somehow atoning for his sin by his own 
repentance for the past, and proving its reality by living a 
better life in future. This for a while pacified him ; but by 
reading the sacred Scriptures, and praying for spiritual in- 
struction — faithfully comparing himself with the law of God, 
which is exceeding broad, reaching to the very thoughts and 
intents of the heart — he found that his repentance needed 
forgiveness, and that however he resolved upon new and 
perfect obedience, he ever failed in the performance. 

Humbled in heart under this discovery, and the awful 
sentence, " Cursed is every one who continueth not in all 
things which are written in the book of the law to do them," 
GaL 3:10, sounding in his ears, he gave vent to his feel- 
ings, and poured out in prayer before God his confession 
of utter unworthiness and total helplessness, and, with an 
earnestness never before experienced, he offered, from an 
agonized mind, the publican's prayer, " God be merciful to 
me a sinner." 

He had not yet any intimate religious friend, to whom he 
could confide secrets of this nature : and his wife, although 
a seriously disposed and worthy woman, rejoicing in the 
improvement evident in her husband's temper and conduct, 
yet, not understanding the subject of his distress, could not 



THE SABBATH AT SEA. 9 

become to him a solid comforter. He continued, therefore, 
somewhat dejected, but gave diligent attention to the preach- 
ing of the Gospel ; and in the course of his attendance on 
public worship, he heard sermons from the following and 
similar texts of Scripture : " Come unto me, all ye that la- 
bor and are heavy laden, and I will give your rest." Matt. 
11 : 28. " Christ died for our sins, according to the Scrip- 
tures." 1 Cor. 15 : 3. "For he hath made him to be sin 
for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the right- 
eousness of God in him." 2 Cor. 5 : 21. "If any man sin, 
Ave have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the 
righteous." 1 John, 2:1. "Whosoever will, let him take 
of the water of life freely." Rev. 22 : 17. From these en- 
couraging declarations, and from reading the contexts, he 
obtained, by the blessed influences of the Holy Spirit, know- 
ledge of the way of justification by faith in the blood of a 
crucified Redeemer. His heart was soon enabled to praise 
him who bore the curse which himself deserved, and in doino- 
this he found a rest of soul, of which, till then, he had no 
idea ; and he determined, by the grace of God, that as Jesus 
Christ had died for his sin, so he would strive to live thence- 
forward a godly life to his Redeemer's praise. 

With the deepest humility and self-diffidence he then 
solemnly devoted himself to God, and prayed with heartfelt 
earnestness that he might be enabled to be watchful and 
prayerful, and be kept from backsliding into the ways of 
sin and death. This was nearly the situation of his mind 
when he attended public worship at the Ark for the last 
time before going to sea. 

The owner of the Hope having launched a new vessel, 
promoted Captain Adams to the command of her ; and, by 
his recommendation, the Hope was put under the command 
of Newman. As she was ordered to take a general cargo 
for the Mediterranean, she lay some time in the London 
dock, which was favorable to Captain Newman, who, with 
vol. iv. 41 



1 THE SABBATH AT SEA. 

his wife and child, and his mate — the late second mate — a 
tractable, hopeful young man, attended the Sabbath duties 
on board the Ark. The captain having become serious, 
wished much to obtain a sober, and, if he could, a religious 
ship's company. By constant attendance at the chapel, he 
had become acquainted with those gentlemen of the Com- 
mittee of the Port of London Society who superintended there 
on the Lord's day. He applied to them to recommend some 
hands to him, and by careful inquiry into character, he had 
reason to hope that four of the six hands he shipped were 
seriously inclined ; and the other two were well recommended 
by former masters, as obedient, trusty, and skilful seamen. 

Besides his own Bible, which he now greatly prized and 
often read, Captain Newman purchased two of large print 
from the Merchant Seamen's Auxiliary Bible Society, which, 
to aid sailors to obtain them, are sold at a price less than 
cost ; intending one for general use in the cabin, and the 
other for the people. For the latter he had a box made, 
and put up in the forecastle, and had painted on the lid, in 
large letters, Holy Bible. As the hands he had shipped 
came on board, he observed with pleasure that each brought 
a good and well-supplied chest, a sure sign of a worthy 
sailor. 

Thus all was promising, and the captain took leave of 
his wife and child with much composure. They had, in 
prayer, committed each other to the care of their Creator 
and Redeemer, and both knew that during their absence 
prayers would arise from each for the other. He left his 
owner and brokers with a sedate cheerfulness, but still with 
those sensations which only those know who go to sea as 
masters for the first time. 

On the brig's arrival at Gravesend, the Merchant Sea- 
men's Bible Society's boat, with Lieutenant Cox, came along- 
side. Captain Newman welcomed him on the deck, called 
all his hands aft to hear the Society's message, and while 



THE SABBATH AT SEA. H 

he enjoyed secret delight in finding that the four seamen 
had each a Bible of his own, he was not a little gratified at 
the willingness of the others to purchase a Bible or a Tes- 
tament at the reduced prices, and he willingly advanced 
them the money they needed for the payment. 

The Hope got into the Downs on Thursday morning, and 
the wind being easterly, and the tide suiting, they sent the 
pilot on shore in a Deal boat, ran through the Downs, and, 
by the Sabbath, were clear of the Channel. 

It was to this day which Captain Newman had been long 
looking : the first Sabbath at sea with the ship under his 
own command. He had felt, soon after being impressed 
with the importance of religion himself, that if ever he 
should command a ship, he ought to promote religion among 
those committed to his charge. The pleasures which he 
had found in social worship on shipboard, where the great 
majority of the congregation consisted of sailors, had quick- 
ened his desires for sanctifying the Sabbath at sea, as well 
as on shore. He purposed to begin on the first Sabbath ; 
but however much he felt it to be encouraging, that his little 
crew were not of an ordinary cast, and that they would not 
object, yet there was a novelty to him in his attempt to 
conduct social worship in the cabin at sea, which he felt 
required a courageous resolution to carry into effect. 

He had given an early intimation to the ship's company, 
that he should expect the Sabbath-day to be distinguished 
from other days ; that he should not exact any duty but 
that which should be indispensably necessary ; and had ex- 
pressed his hope, that they would all remember the com- 
mandment of God, to sanctify the Sabbath, to keep it holy ; 
but still he felt that, as commander, he must take the lead, 
and show the example. 

When on board the floating chapel, he had observed 
that the psalms and hymns used by the congregation were 
at the end of a book published by the Society for Seamen, 



12 THE SABBATH AT SEA. 

and called the " Seamen's Devotional Assistant," and that 
it was intended to assist the masters of merchant ships in 
earning on the worship of God when at sea ; he had there- 
fore purchased one of them. In perusing the preface, he 
found that the book had been written at the suggestion of 
a master of a merchant brig, who had felt just the difficulty 
which he himself was under on this subject, and was desir- 
ous of the assistance which this book purposed to supply, 
and which he so greatly needed. He joined fully in the 
conclusion, that it would be as profitable as comforting to 
a shipmaster, to have around him those who fear God ; and 
that it was his interest as well as his duty to promote relig- 
ion by every means in his power. This brought him to the 
determination, that, as opportunity should be afforded, he 
would use his power and his influence for its attainment. 
And he now felt that the period for acting had arrived. 

The agitation of his mind had caused him to awake very 
early, and as soon as the sun shone into his cabin he arose, 
desirous that his early and cleanly appearance might renew 
his hint to the ship's company. Before leaving his state- 
room, he read the 139th Psalm, in order that his impres- 
sions of the divine presence might be thereby deepened. 
He then recited the fourth commandment, and seriously 
prayed that God would ever incline his heart to keep it ; 
and, kneeling down, he thanked God for his many mercies, 
particularly for the everlasting Gospel and a well-founded 
hope of eternal life ; committed his family, ship, and all his 
concerns to God, and implored direction and strength to 
fulfil the duties of this important day. 

He found his heart lightened by this secret duty, and 
his purposes strengthened. He then went on deck, and 
after the usual morning salutation to those on the watch, he 
walked the quarter-deck till nearly the breakfast hour, 
silently meditating upon his plan. 

At breakfast he introduced the subject to his mate. 



THE SABBATH AT SEA. 13 

Capt. Well, James, we shall not have, to-day, the ad- 
vantages of being on board the ark ; I seem to miss very 
much the pleasure which I had by going there on Sundays. 

Mate. Yes, sir, I suppose you do. I have been think- 
ing of it a good deal this morning. 

Capt. It was a pleasant sight to see sailors so willingly 
assemble for God's worship ; to see such large congrega- 
tions of men, who hardly ever thought of such a thing in 
former days. It appears wonderful to me. That ark is a 
nice contrivance for sailors ; so handy, so convenient ; and 
one feels there so much at home. I assure you that I 
thought of it the first thing this morning, and a great deal 
yesterday. 

Mate. So have I, sir. But we are far away from them 
now. 

Capt. Yes ; we are indeed far away from them, but 
not any farther off from God. I read this morning the 139th 
Psalm, where it said, " Whither shall I go from thy Spirit ? 
or whither shall I flee from thy presence ? If I take the 
wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of 
the sea ; even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right 
hand shall hold me." And I could not but feel, that though 
not now in London river, I am, while at sea, equally with 
God, and that his commandments are as binding on me at 
sea as on shore. 

Mate. That is true, sir; and I feel it: and I have 
recollected that the fourth commandment is, "Remember 
the Sabbath-day." Have you, sir, seen a book, sold at the 
ark by the Society, about the worship of God in merchant 
ships at sea ? 

Capt. Yes, I have seen it. 

Mate. I have one, which I bought at the ark, and I 

think it a very nice book for sailors. The prayers are just 

what a sailor wants, and the Psalms and Hymns are very 

good. There is, too. a direction in the book how to carry 

iv. 41* 



14 THE SABBATH AT SEA. 

on the worship on board, on the Sabbath, when weather 
and the ship's duty will permit. 

Capt. And do you like that manner, James ? 

Mate. Yes, sir, I do ; and I have been hoping that 
you would be kind enough to put it in practice in the cabin 
to-day. 

Capt. I am glad, James, to hear you say so. Do you 
think that the hands would like it ? 

Mate. Most, if not all of them, would, I am sure, 
gladly consent ; and if any should not like it at first, they 
soon would. I never was with such an orderly ship's com- 
pany. There is no swearing, no bad words, no quarrelling, 
no drinking ; but all are friendly and cheerful, and willing 
to do their duty night or day. They read the Bible a good 
deal, when they have leisure. 

Capt. I have one of those books which you spoke of; 
do you think that there are any more of them in the ship ? 

Mate. Yes, William and Richard each have one. 

Capt. Well, then, go and tell the people that at four 
bells, (10 A. M.,) I wish as many as are willing, and can be 
spared from ship's duty on deck, to come to me in the cabin ; 
and that I shall expect to see every one dressed clean, in 
honor of the day. 

The mate now withdrew ; and Captain Newman, finding 
his mind very greatly encouraged, lifted up his heart secretly 
and fervently to God, in grateful acknowledgment of his 
goodness, and took his Bible to select the chapters to read 
when the men should assemble for worship. 

The mate went to the forecastle, and took William and 
Richard aside, and told them of the purpose of the captain, 
and expressed his own hope that it would be quite agree- 
able to them. They both declared that they thanked God 
for putting it into the heart of the captain to do so. They 
had indeed been wishing for it. Of their own accord they 
called Henry to them, and he also declared his consent, and 



THE SABBATH AT SEA. 15 

his persuasion that it would be agreeable to every one in 
the ship, as the hands who had bought Testaments at 
Gravesend were well behaved, and had been reading much, 
when they got time. The mate felt so rejoiced in having 
such tidings to convey to the captain, that he went to him 
immediately, and greatly pleased him with the intelligence. 

As soon as four bells struck, the captain sent the boy 
to tell the mate that he expected the hands in the cabin. 

At this time the weather was very fine, the sky clear, 
and the wind abaft the beam. The captain, therefore, left 
two hands only on deck: the cook, and the man at the 
helm : the latter was directed to knock, if he wanted one 
hand from below, and twice if he should want two. One 
man, being unwell, had gone to his hammock. 

The assembly in the cabin consisted of the captain 
and mate, three hands, and the boy. The captain desired 
them to be seated, and addressed them to the following 
effect : 

" I believe, lads, that most of you have been in the habit 
of attending on board the Ark on the Sabbath, and have 
seen that divine service may be performed on board a ship. 
I cannot, therefore, doubt your believing that God ought 
to be worshipped, and that he is as near to his creatures 
when they are at sea, as when they are on shore, or in har- 
bor ; for in God we all live, and move, and have our being. 
I hope, too, that you all wish to have the blessing of God, 
which is promised to all who humbly seek it." He then 
read to them from the preface to the Devotional Assistant : 
" It may be asserted, without fear of contradiction, that a 
ship will be the more safe, when the blessing of Him who 
made the sea, and controls the boisterous deep, is daily 
sought by the whole of those who are on board. The 
social worship of God will infallibly lead to an increase of 
the fear of God, and this will as surely lead to a constant 
sense of religious and moral obligations." He then asked 



16 THE SABBATH AT SEA. 

them whether they were, as he trusted they all were, will- 
ing that the worship of God should be regularly carried on 
in the Hope ? He looked to the mate to answer first ; and 
when he declared his desire that it should be so, the others 
declared themselves like-minded. Captain Newman then 
assured them, that it should always be his study to do his 
duty by them, and to promote their real happiness. 

The Bible lay open upon the table at the 139th Psalm, 
to which the captain desired the men to turn, in their Bibles, 
and after a short pause, he read that Psalm with a distinct 
voice, slowly and solemnly. He then read the introductory 
prayer from the Devotional Assistant ; and addressing him- 
self to his little assembly, he said, " My dear friends, it is 
our bounden duty to attend to that word of God, which in 
so many places encourages and commands us to meet to- 
gether, to acknowledge and confess to Almighty God our 
manifold sins and wickedness. If we attempt to dissemble 
or cloak our sins from the face of the Almighty, we shall 
only deceive ourselves, and mock God. But if, under a 
feeling sense of our guilt and misery, we do confess them 
with a humble, lowly, penitent, and obedient heart, we are 
assured that we shall obtain forgiveness of the same, through 
his infinite goodness and mercy. This is certain, because 
it is the word of Him who cannot lie, who hath declared, 
that if we thus confess our sins, God is faithful and just to 
forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteous- 
ness. Wherefore, let us with lowly hearts and humble 
voices bow down before the Lord, who hath promised to 
hear, and answer in mercy all who call unto him, looking 
for salvation only through, and on accoimt of what his bless- 
ed Son Jesus Christ hath done and suffered for sinners !" 

The confession was then made by each, while kneeling : 
" Almighty and most merciful Father, we have erred and 
strayed from thy ways like lost sheep," etc. The 95th 
Psalm was then read by alternate verses, by the captain 



THE SABBATH AT SEA, 17 

and the crew ; and, at its close, the following very interest- 
ing selections from the New Testament were read in the 
same manner. 

Capt. Grace unto you, and peace, be multiplied. 1 
Peter, 1:2. 

Crew. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord 
Jesus Christ, who, according to his abundant mercy, hath 
begotten us again unto a lively hope, by the resurrection 
of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorrupti- 
ble and undenled, and which fadeth not away. 1 Pet. 1 : 3, 4. 

Capt. This is the record, that God hath given to us 
eternal life : and this life is in his Son. 1 John, 5:11. 

Crew. In this was manifested the love of God towards 
us, because that God sent his only-begotten Son into the 
world, that we might live through him. 1 John, 4:9. 

Capt. Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that 
he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our 
sins. 1 John, 4:10. 

Capt. and Crew together. Beloved, if God so loved 
us, we ought also to love one another. 1 John, 4:11. 

Capt. The law was given by Moses, but grace and 
truth came by Jesus Christ. John 1:17. 

Crew. The Spirit of God, descending like a dove, 
lighted upon Jesus : and lo, a voice from heaven, saying, 
" This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." 
Matt. 3: 16, 17. 

Capt. The voice out of the cloud said, " Hear ye him." 
Matt. 17: 5. 

Crew. We believe, that through the grace of the Lord 
Jesus Christ, we may be saved. Acts 15 : 11. 

Capt. Neither is there salvation in any other : for there 
is none other name under heaven given among men, where- 
by we must be saved. Acts 4:12. 

Crew. Who was delivered for our offences, and was 
raised again for our justification. Rom. 4:25. 



18 THE SABBATH AT SEA. 

Capt. Other foundation can no man lay than that is 
laid, which is Jesus Christ. 1 Cor. 3 : 11. 

Crew. This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all ac- 
ceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save 
sinners. 1 Tim. 1:15. 

Capt. Who being the brightness of his (the Father's) 
glory, and the express image of his person, and upholding 
all things by the word of his power, when he had by him- 
self purged our sins, sat down on the right hand of the 
majesty on high. Heb. 1:3. 

Crew. In whom we have redemption through his 
blood, even the forgiveness of sins ; who is the image of 
the invisible God, the first-born of every creature. Coloss. 
1: 15. 

Capt. For by him were all things created that are in 
heaven, and that are on earth, visible and invisible, whether 
they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers ; 
all things were created by him and for him. Coloss. 1 : 16. 

Crew. And he is before all things, and by him all 
things consist. Coloss. 1:17. 

Capt. And he is the head of the body, the church; 
who is the beorinnin^, the first-born from the dead ; that in 
all things he might have the preeminence. Coloss. 1:18. 

Crew. For it pleased the Father, that in him should 
all fulness dwell ; and having made peace through the 
blood of his cross, by him to reconcile all things to himself. 
Coloss. 1 : 19, 20. 

Capt. If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things 
which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of 
God. Set your affections on things above, not on things on 
the earth. For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ 
in God. Coloss. 3 : 1-3. 

Capt. and Crew together. Now, unto him that is able 
to keep us from falling? and to present us faultless before 
the presence of his glory, with exceeding joy ; to the only 



THE SABBATH AT SEA. 10 

wise God, our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and 
power, both now and ever. Amen. Jude 24, 25. 

The captain then read the prayer for the Sabbath morn- 
ing ; that entitled " A prayer suitable just after leaving the 
Home Port;" and that for the outward-bound passage. 

They then sung together the following hymn : 

Where two or three, with sweet accord, 
Obedient to their sovereign Lord, 
Meet to recount his acts of grace, 
And offer solemn prayer and praise ; 

" There," says the Saviour, " will I be, 
Amid the little company : 
To them unveil my smiling face, 
And shed my glories round the place." 

We meet at thy command, dear Lord, 
Relying on thy faithful word ; 
Now send thy Spirit from above, 
Now fill our hearts with heavenly love. 

The captain read the whole of the 20th chapter of Ex- 
odus, containing the commandments ; and the 12th and 13th 
chapters of the Epistle to the Romans, containing many 
important admonitions for wise and holy behavior. After 
the general prayer in the Devotional Assistant, beginning 
thus : " Almighty God, unto whom all hearts be open ;" and 
the solemn thanksgiving for creation, preservation, and all 
the blessings of life ; and especially for God's inestimable 
love in the redemption of sinners by the Lord Jesus Christ, 
for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory ; they 
sang the following Hymn : 

Prepare me, gracious God, 

To stand before thy face ; 
Thy Spirit must the work perform, 

For it is all of grace. 



20 THE SABBATH AT SEA. 

v 

In Christ's obedience clothe, 

And wash me in his blood ; 
So shall I lift my head with joy, 

Among the sons of God. 

Do thou my sins subdue, 

Thy sovereign love make known ; 

The spirit of my mind renew, 
And save me in thy Son. 

Let me attest thy power, 

Let me thy goodness prove, 
Till my full soul can hold no more 

Of everlasting love. 

The captain then dismissed them with the usual bene- 
diction : 

" The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of 
God, and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost, be with us all 
evermore. Amen." 

Although the whole service was attended w^ith the great- 
est seriousness, it was evident that the parts of the prayers 
in which they devoutly asked for blessings upon their rela- 
tives at home, and committed them, as well as their own 
ship's company, and all who traverse the mighty ocean, to 
the kind protection of Almighty power, and that all might 
grow in grace, and be fitted for the kingdom of heaven, had 
a particular effect upon their minds. Social worship en- 
deared them to each other, and they had an unusual degree 
of comfort in having together implored the divine mercy. 

The captain, being left alone, was greatly moved with 
gratitude to God, for having thus been enabled to make a 
beginning. He retired to his cabin, and gave vent, in secret, 
to the feelings which almost overpowered him. 

In the evening they met to read the evening prayer, and 
a chapter, and to sing a song of thanksgiving ; and he set- 
tled, that every day. at four bells morning, and eight even- 



THE SABBATH AT SEA. 21 

ing, the people should come into the cabin, for what the 
captain with much delight called his Family Devotion. 

After a few days, the weather appeared altering ; the 
wind southered, and obliged them to be close-hauled, the 
sky lowered, and a strong wind compelled them to take in 
sail, and increased till the sails were necessarily handed, 
and at last till it became proper to strike the topgallant- 
masts, and lay the ship to for some considerable time ; blow- 
ing a complete fret of wind, attended with a heavy sea. 
This kept all hands on deck on the next Sabbath, except 
the man who was ill on the last Sabbath, and who had daily 
become worse. The worship of the cabin was indispensably 
omitted on the Sabbath, but there was, nevertheless, a dis- 
tinction given to the day. The hands " remembered the 
Sabbath-day," and each endeavored, as he could, to keep it 
holy. Each was sedately thoughtful, yet alive to the im- 
mediate duty required by the ship in these critical circum- 
stances, and prompt in obedience to the captain's orders. 
The gale lasted in its greatest strength about thirty hours ; 
but as every precaution had been taken early, and every 
change watched closely, they passed through the storm, by 
the blessing of God, without injury. It subsided on Mon- 
day afternoon, and towards the evening they got up the top- 
gallant-masts, were enabled to set more sail, and the wind 
veering, the crew got some refreshing rest. On Tuesday 
the wind and sea much abated ; they spread once more 
their sails to a gentle breeze, and had full canvas again. 
At 8 P. M. the captain desired all who could to meet in the 
cabin, when they joined in the appointed thanksgiving for 
deliverance from danger, and in the prayer for that evening ; 
and sang together part of the 107th Psalm : 

Thy works of glory, mighty Lord ! 

Thy wonders in the deeps, 
The sons of courage shall record, 

Who trade in floating ships. 
vol. iv. 42 



22 THE SABBATH AT SEA. 

At thy command the winds arise, 

And swell the towering waves ; 
The men, astonish'd, mount the skies, 

And sink in gaping graves. 

Then to the Lord they raise their cries, 

He hears the loud request, 
And orders silence through the skies, 

And lays the floods to rest. 

O that the sons of men would praise 

The goodness of the Lord ! 
And those that see thy wondrous ways, 

Thy wondrous love record. 

As Stephenson, the sailor who was unable to join the 
worship on the first Sabbath, and who had been now above 
a week confined to his hammock, grew worse, they added 
to their service the prayer for the sick ; and being appre- 
hensive of his being in danger, they were earnestly fervent 
in their supplications. 

During the gale, he had been left alone more than had 
been usual since his illness assumed a serious aspect. The 
captain visited him several times every day ; and finding 
Stephenson acquainted with his Bible, and an humble 
believer in Him who alone is " the way, the truth, and 
the life," he found pleasure in his visit to the bed of sick- 
ness. On the return of fine weather, one seaman generally 
remained with the sick man, and the boy was a willing 
servant to him, while the captain exerted his best skill in 
administering from the medicine chest whatever he could 
judge useful. 

They had now a fine run, and on the sixteenth day from 
the Downs they had sight of Gibraltar, and on the seven- 
teenth, about day-break, the ship passed the straits into 
the Mediterranean. The next day was the Sabbath, and 
the captain in his better dress took his early walk on the 



THE SABBATH AT SEA. 23 

quarter-deck. While on the one hand the view of the shore 
of Barbary gave him cause to reflect on the usurpations of 
the false prophet, and on the other coast there was the full 
reign of popery, his mind was led into consideration of the 
mercy which afforded him access to the light of divine reve- 
lation. With these thoughts he went to his state-room, and 
shortly afterwards his men were assembled for worship in 
the great cabin. He read the 19th Psalm, and other por- 
tions of Scripture showing the excellency of the law of 
God, and the cheering hopes, derivable from the Gospel, 
of salvation by a crucified Saviour ; whose precepts and 
miracles he read from the Yth of St. Matthew and of St. 
Luke, concluding their usual Sabbath worship by singing 
together the following verses : 

Blest are the saints who sit on high, 
Around thy throne of majesty ; 
Thy brightest glories shine above, 
And all their work is praise and love. 

Blest are the souls that find a place 
Within the temple of thy grace ; 
There they behold thy gentler rays, 
And seek thy face, and learn thy praise. 

Blest are the men whose hearts are set 
To find the way to Sion's gate ; 
God is their strength, and through the road 
They lean upon their helper, God. 

Cheerful they walk with growing strength, 
Till all shall meet in heaven at length ; 
Till all before thy face appear, 
And join in nobler worship there. 

Stephenson had now become much worse ; and on Mon- 
day he appeared drawing near to his great change. The 
captain was much by his hammock, and speaking to him in 
the most tender accents, commended the soul of his dying 



24 THE SABBATH AT SEA. 

shipmate into the hands of a faithful Creator, and merciful 
Saviour ; praying with him, that his soul might be precious 
in his sight, be washed in the blood of the Lamb, who was 
slain to take away the sins of the world, and that it might 
t)e presented pure and without spot to God. He was also 
very earnest that the instructive scene might be blessed to 
all the ship's company, and that they might so number their 
days as to apply their hearts unto wisdom. He called to 
the dying man's remembrance that God " spared not his 
own Son, but delivered him up for them all ;" and also, that 
infallible truth had asserted, that ''he that believeth shall 
be saved." Stephenson was patient, resigned to the divine 
will, and thankful for the kindness shown to him. He could 
speak but little, but that little was expressive of hope in 
God, through the blood of Jesus Christ ; and he had evi- 
dently considerable support in the view of dissolution. 

Towards evening his fever increased, delirium succeeded 
at night, and soon after sunrise, on Tuesday morning, he ex- 
pired. His last moments were calm ; he knew those near 
him, was sensible of his own circumstances, de'sired his duty 
to the captain, thanked his shipmates, looked upwards with 
a cheering smile, and repeating, " Lord Jesus, to thee I com- 
mend my soul," closed his eyes for ever on all below the sky. 
He was a single man, and aged about thirty-four years. 

This affecting event produced a manifest seriousness 
through the ship ; the voice of cheerful mirth was sup- 
pressed, and the mind of each reflected on the frail tenure 
of life, a review of past times, and had, it is hoped, an en- 
livening hope of a better life to come. To the morning 
prayers were added that which is recommended in the De- 
votional Assistant to be used after losing a man by sickness 
or accident. 

During the day an inventory was made of all the effects 
of the deceased, which was copied into the log-book ; the 
corpse was close lashed up in a hammock, and some shot 



THE SABBATH AT SEA. 25 

was attached to sink it, when launched into the deep abyss. 
The funeral was appointed to take place the next day at 
six P. M. 

On Wednesday the colors were hoisted at half-mast, and 
the men were dressed clean, as on a Sunday. At the morning 
prayer, the captain read the 15th chapter of the first epistle 
to the Corinthians, and the 39th Psalm. 

After dinner the ship was put under easy sail, and at 
four P. M. the corpse was brought on deck, in a deliberate 
and silent manner, and placed on the half-deck grating, and 
every thing arranged for committing it to the deep when the 
captain should direct. The circumstances of the ship, the 
dress of the men, the corpse covered with the ship's jack, 
the silence or low-toned conversation of the crew, as they 
paced the opposite side of the deck, had a very impressive 
appearance. 

The captain felt agitated. At five o'clock, after direct- 
ing to shorten sail, that all might be able to attend the so- 
lemnity, he withdrew to the cabin, and silently meditated on 
the awful duty to which he was so soon and so unexpectedly 
called. He prayed that God would sustain him, teach him 
what to do and what to say, and that the event mio-ht be 
sanctified to him and to his ship's company. 

At the appointed time he came on deck, and, approach- 
ing the corpse, called all hands, who assembled round it, 
and stood uncovered. The weather was quite fine and still, 
and the sea smooth. The captain, in a solemn tone of voice, 
addressed them on the subject of death ; reminded them that 
life is the only time to serve the Lord ; that there is no re- 
pentance, no amendment in the grave ; that what was left 
undone by their deceased shipmate, could not now be per- 
formed ; what he had done amiss, could not now be undone ; 
and that while they were standing round his lifeless body, 
his spirit was living in the invisible world. He exhorted 
them, among other things, that as they valued their present 
vol. iv. 42* 



26 THE SABBATH AT SEA 

peace and future happiness, they should seek now for the 
mercy of God, through Jesus Christ, and to be sanctified by 
the Holy Spirit. 

"We are," said he, "now about to launch this body 
into the deep, where it will be turned into corruption ; but 
there is a day coming, when even this body shall be raised 
to die no more ; when the trumpet shall sound, the graves 
be opened, and the sea give up her dead. 

" The death of our shipmate is an event which calls on 
every one of us to remember that ive must die. This event 
speaks to us, and says to each, Be thou also ready, for at 
such an hour as thou thinkest not, thy summons will come." 

After a pause of a few minutes, and a declaration of his 
having a good hope of the joyful resurrection of the de- 
ceased, because he was a true believer in Jesus Christ, the 
captain directed the corpse to be launched overboard. This 
was a solemn moment. The concussion on the fall of the 
corpse into the great deep was felt to the heart ; and the 
eyes of all showed the effects of human sympathy. The 
men continued motionless while giving time for it to sink 
completely down, to remain till summoned to appear for 
judgment. The corpse soon disappeared, but the crew re- 
mained gazing silently on the water ; while the captain, who 
had mingled his tears with those of his sailors, read the fol- 
lowing prayer: 

" Almighty and most merciful God ! Thou art that God 
who didst first breathe into man's nostrils the breath of life : 
to Thee it belongeth to lengthen man's days, and to cut them 
short in the midst ; to kill, and to make alive. We bow at 
thy footstool, beseeching thee at this time to be gracious to 
our souls. Thou hast shortened our number by the removal 
of one of our companions. Thou art by this solemn provi- 
dence bidding us be also ready. O do thou make and keep 
us ready for death and judgment. Lord, pardon our sins, 
and cleanse our hearts, and keep them in a sanctified state. 



THE SABBATH AT SEA. 27 

Remember not our transgressions against us, but look to the 
bleeding wounds, to the agony and bloody sweat, to the cross 
and passion, of thy beloved Son Jesus Christ, and for his 
sake pardon and make us what thou wouldst have us to be, 
for we are verily guilty before thee. Yet, Lord God ! 
most holy ! O Lord, most mighty ! O holy and most merci- 
ful Saviour ! deal not with us according to our deserts. Oh, 
deliver not our souls, in a dying hour, to the pains of eter- 
nal death. 

" Thou knowest, Lord, the secrets of our hearts ; all our 
fears, and all our desires, are open before Thee. O shut not 
thy merciful ears to our prayers, but give us grace to re- 
pent and to believe. Raise us from that death of sin in 
which we were born, and in which we have lived ; and let 
our future days be days of righteousness. Through all the 
cares and labors, through all the comforts and enjoyments 
of this life, keep us mindful of our latter end ; and whenso- 
ever that end comes, grant that we may be found acceptable 
in thy sight : that we may receive that blessing which thy 
well-beloved Son shall then pronounce to all that love and 
fear thee, saying, ' Come, ye blessed children of my Father, 
receive the kingdom prepared for you from the beginning 
of the world.' Grant this, we beseech thee, most merciful 
Father, for the ^ake of Jesus Christ, our Mediator and Re- 
deemer. Amen." 

He read afterwards the 90th Psalm, and the prayer ap- 
pointed for Wednesday evening, closing their devotions with 
the following beautiful hymn : 

Thee we adore, Eternal Name, 

And humbly own to thee 
How feeble is our mortal frame, 

What dying worms are we ! 

Our wasting lives grow shorter still, 
As months and days increase ; 

And every beating pulse we tell, * 
Leaves but the number less. 



28 THE SABBATH AT SEA. 

The rear rolls round, and steals away 

The breath that first it gave : 
Whate'er we do, where'er we be, 

We're travelling to the grave. 

Dangers stand thick through all the ground, 

To push us to the tomb ; 
And fierce diseases wait around, 

To hurry mortals home. 

Infinite joy, or endless woe, 

Attends on every breath ; 
And yet how unconcern'd we go, 

Upon the brink of death. 

Waken, O Lord, our drowsy sense, 
To walk this dangerous road ; 
• And if our souls are hurried hence, 

May they be found with God. 

These seasons for social worship, and the events of the 
voyage, and the better acquaintance which the crew had 
now with each other, showed manifestly an increased and 
an increasing affection, cementing a strong and delightful 
union. Happiness was their continual companion. The 
captain was beloved, and his commands obeyed whether 
he were present or absent. They had confidence in his 
skill, and he relied without fear on their fidelity, w T hich 
afforded great relief to that anxiety which is generally felt 
by captains at sea. 

The Saturday evening had always, among the hands, the 
remembrances usual at sea, and all that innocent mirth 
■which marks the sailor when at peace within, was found 
on board the Hope. They experienced the truth of the 
saying of the wise man, that " Wisdom's ways are ways 
of pleasantness, and her paths peace," and that religion 
never was designed to make true pleasures less. 

Their fourth Sabbath at sea was spent within sight of 



THE SABBATH AT SEA. 29 

the high land which was over the port to which they were 
bound, and they spent it like the others, in " remembering 
the Sabbath-day," according to the commandment, They 
got a pilot before Monday noon, but the health-boat, on 
finding that a man had died on the passage, ordered the 
brig to the place for quarantine. 

After remaining the usual time, they got pratique, and 
entered the harbor on Friday, and on Saturday began to 
discharge their cargo. 

In the harbor were several English vessels. The cap- 
tain observed at the maintopgallantmast-head of one of 
them the union -jack, with a long pendant over it, and was 
induced to ask a gentleman whom he found on the quay, as 
he stepped on shore, what it meant ? This was Captain 
Strange, the master of the vessel so distinguished, which 
was named the Pilgrim, and was loading for London. He 
informed him that it intimated to other ships that there 
would be divine worship on board on the Sabbath, and that 
at 10 A. M. the Bethel flag would be at the fore. This 
was accompanied by an invitation to Captain Newman and 
his ship's company, which was immediately accepted. Cap- 
tain Newman returned on board his own ship to tell this to 
the mate, to be by him communicated to the men ; and to 
inform them, that he should be ready to accompany them, 
and that they would be therefore expected to be in the cabin 
by eight o'clock on the next morning. 

The ship was made all clean on Saturday evening, that 
the Sabbath might not have any unnecessary interruption 
to its peculiar duties. At half past nine they left the Hope, 
to be early aboard the Pilgrim, where they met the crews 
of three or four other vessels, forming a congregation of 
between thirty and forty persons, and occupying the cabin, 
steerage, and part of the half-deck, made clear for that 
purpose. Captain Strange took the lead in conducting the 
worship. He read part of the morning service from the 



30 THE SABBATH AT SEA. 

Church Prayer-Book, and some of the prayers from the De- 
votional Assistant ; and as the Hope had newly arrived, he 
read the thanksgiving for safe arrival in port. The hymns 
were set to tunes by a young sailor whom Captain Newman 
recollected to have been in the same Sabbath-school with 
himself. Captain Strange also read a short discourse from 
the Village Sermons, from " What shall a man give in ex- 
changefor his soulV 

In the afternoon the congregation again assembled, with 
the addition of the crew of the American ship Columbia, 
from New York ; and then Captain Strange read a sermon 
published by the Rev. Mr. Young, of Grimsby, who wrote 
it for sailors ; and thus the first Sabbath passed in a foreign 
harbor, to the credit of the British flag, and to the comfort 
and edification of those who had sanctified it by the public 
worship of their Maker. 

In conversation with Captain Strange, Captain Newman 
had his attention drawn to a list of practical sermons, rec- 
ommended in the Devotional Assistant to form the library 
of a ship at sea ; the want of which he had felt during his 
voyage, but which he intended to supply himself with on 
his return to England. 

The Pilgrim being on departure, Newman agreed that 
the Hope should give the accommodation the next Sabbath. 
And on the evenino- before her leaving harbor, some from 
each ship met in the Pilgrim's cabin, to pray for her having 
a safe, happy, and prosperous voyage. 

The Hope was engaged to load a general cargo, in suc- 
cession to the Pilgrim, and from the kindness of the British 
merchants, and others who had observed and who approved 
the conduct of Captain Newman, she loaded up fast. The 
novelty of those proceedings made some talk among the 
merchants. They remarked the steady conduct of the 
masters, the cleanly and orderly state of their crews ; and 
ships so governed seemed to recommend themselves to 



THE SABBATH AT SEA. 31 

those who needed their services, as giving assurance that 
things would go well with them, while the harmony and 
good behavior of the ships' companies honored the flag 
under which the} 7 sailed. 

Before the Hope was quite laden, the Convert, of Green- 
ock, Captain Young, arrived from that port ; and Captain 
Newman, remembering to have seen Captain Young on 
board the Ark in the Thames, requested him to give the 
required accommodation for worship, to which he instantly 
signified his consent. On the evening before departure, 
those who had worshipped on board the Hope met in her 
cabin, and previously to taking leave of one another, be- 
sought protection from Him whose power can withhold or 
control the hurricane, and who can grant comfort at sea, 
and safe arrival at the distant port. 

The wind favored them across the Mediterranean, but a 
westerly wind gave them a longer cruize off Cape de Gatt 
than was quite pleasant to the crew, or profitable for the 
owners. The men felt that they were in pursuance of 
their duty, and from the influence of principle were cheer- 
fully submissive to the will of God, under whose power 
alone is the direction of the winds. There was, therefore, 
none of that murmuring which impatience works on dis- 
appointed minds. Their mornings and evenings were sancti- 
fied by prayer. Their Sabbaths pleasantly filled up. They 
had, from books, a large variety of interesting subjects for 
conversation, and a hymn for lively vocal praise, when joy- 
ful of heart ; and always the cheering hope of seeing home 
when God's best time should come. 

At length the wind favored them, and they got through 
the Straits, crossed the Atlantic without any thing remark- 
able, struck soundings on the thirty-second day, obtained a 
leading wind up Channel, and taking a pilot off Folkstone, 
passed through the Downs, and anchored safely in Stangate 
creek, to perform quarantine. 



32 THE SABBATH AT SEA. 

While waiting there for release, they assembled as usual 
for worship, and offered the thanksgiving prayer composed 
for safe arrival in port. Having delivered their enumerated 
goods into the lazaretto, they ran up the river in two tides, 
and at the next flood entered the London docks. 

Captain Newman viewed again, with increased pleasure, 
the name of the " Chapel for Seamen." On the next Sab- 
bath he went with his wife and child, and almost all his 
hands, to join in divine worship ; and putting up a note to 
the minister, publicly acknowledged his obligations, and 
expressed his gratitude to God, for a safe and happy voy- 
age. Nor did he forget inwardly to bless God for having 
put into the hearts of his servants such love for sailors as 
prompted them to prepare the accommodation he then 
enjoyed. 

Come, bless the Lord, whose love assigns 
So sweet a rest to wearied minds ; 
Provides an antepast of heaven, 
And gives, this day, the food of seven. 

O that our thoughts and thanks may rise, 
As grateful incense, to the skies ; 
And draw from heaven that sweet repose, 
Which none but he that feels it, knows. 













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GAYLORD 


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