THE LAST HOURS OF THE REV. JOHN COWPER, A. M., Fellow of Ben'et College, Cambridge. THE following narrative of the conversion of his brother from infidelity, is given by William Cowper, Esq., author of "The Task," &c. :-As soon as it had pleased God, after a long and sharp season of conviction, to visit me with the consolations of his grace, it became one of my chief concerns, that my relations might be made partakers of the same mercy. In the first letter I wrote to my brother, I took occasion to declare what God had done for my soul; and am not conscious, that from that period down to his last illness, I wilfully neglected an opportunity of engaging him, if it were possible, in conversation of a spiritual kind. When I left St. Alban's, and went to visit him at Cambridge, my heart being full of the subject, I poured it out before him without reserve; and in all my subsequent intercourse with him, so far as I was enabled, took care to shew that I had received, not merely a set of notions, but a real impression of the truths of the Gospel. At first, I found him ready enough to talk with me upon these subjects; sometimes he would dispute, but always without heat or animosity, and sometimes would endeavour to reconcile our sentiments, by supposing that at the bottom we were both of a mind, and meant the same thing. He was a man of a most candid and ingenuous spirit; his temper remarkably sweet; and in his behaviour to me, he had always manifested an uncommon affection. His outward conduct, so far as it fell under my notice, or I could learn it by the report of others, was perfectly decent and unblameable. There was nothing vicious in any part of his practice; but, being of a studious turn, he placed his chief delight in the acquisition of learning. He was critically skilled in the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew languages; was beginning to make himself master of the Syriac, and perfectly understood the French and Italian, the latter of which he could speak fluently. These attainments, however, he lived heartily to despise, not as useless when sanctified and employed in the service of God, but when sought after for their own sake, and with a view to the praise of men. He was easy and cheerful in his conversation, and entirely free from the stiffness which is generally contracted by men devoted to such pursuits. Thus we spent about two years, conversing, as occasion offered, (and we generally visited each other once or twice a-week, as long as I continued at Huntingdon,) upon the leading truths of the Gospel. By this time, he began to be more reserved; he would hear me patiently, but never reply; and this I found, upon his own confession afterward, was the effect of a resolution he had taken in order to avoid disputes, and to secure the continuance of that peace which had always subsisted between us. When our family removed to Olney, our intercourse became less frequent. We exchanged an annual visit, and, whenever he came among us, he observed the same conduct, conforming to all our customs, attending family worship with us, and receiving civilly whatever passed in conversation upon the subject, but adhering strictly to the rule he had prescribed to himself, never remarking upon any thing he heard or saw. This, through the goodness of his natural temper, he was enabled to carry so far, that though some things unavoidably happened, which we feared would give him offence, he never took any. In September 1769, I learned by letters from Cam. bridge, that he was dangerously ill. I set out for that place the day after I received them, and found him as ill as I expected. He had taken cold on his return from a journey into Wales; and lest he should be laid up at a distance from home, he had pushed forward as fast as he could from Bath with a fever upon him. Soon after his arrival at Cambridge, he discharged, unknown to himself, such a prodigious quantity of blood, that the physician ascribed it only to the strength of his constitution that he was still alive; and assured me, that if the discharge should be repeated, he must inevitably die upon the spot. In this state of imminent danger, he seemed to have no more concern about his spiritual interests than when in perfect health. His couch was strewed with volumes of plays, to which he had fre quent recourse for amusement. I learned indeed afterwards, that, even at this time, the thoughts of God and eternity would often force themselves upon his mind; but not apprehending his life to be in danger, and trusting in the morality of his past conduct, he found it no difficult matter to thrust them out again. As it pleased God that he had no relapse, he presently began to recover strength, and in ten day's time I left him so far restored, that he had every symptom of returning health. It is probable, however, that though his recovery seemed perfect, this illness was the means which God had appointed to bring down his strength, and to hasten on the malady which proved his last. On the 16th of February 1770, I was again summoned to attend him, by letters which represented him so ill, that the physician entertained but little hopes of his recovery. He, however, expressed great joy at seeing me, thought himself much better, and seemed to hope that he should be well again. My situation at this time was truly distressful. I learned from the physician, that, in this instance, as in the last, he was it much greater danger than he suspected. He did not seem to lay his illness at all to heart, nor could I find by his conversation that he had one serious thought. As often as a suitable occasion offered, when we were free from company and interruption, I endeavoured to give a spiritual turn to the discourse; and the day after my arrival, asked his permission to pray with him, to which he readily consented. I renewed my attempts in this way as often as I could, though without any ap parent success: still he seemed as careless and uncen cerned as ever; yet I could not but consider his will ingness in this instance as a token for good, and ob served with pleasure, that, though at other times he discovered no mark of seriousness, yet when I spoke to him of the Lord's dealings with myself he received what I said with affection, would press my hand, and look kindly at me, and seemed to love me better for it. On the 21st of the same month, he had a violent of asthina, which seized him when he rose, about a hour before noon, and lasted all the day. His agony was dreadful. Having never seen any person afflicted the same way, I could not help fearing that he would be suffocated; nor was the physician himself without fears of the same kind. This day the Lord was very present with me, and enabled me, as I sat by the poor sufferers side, to wrestle for a blessing upon him. I observed t him, that though it had pleased God to visit him with great afflictions, yet mercy was mingled with the d pensation. I said, "you have many friends, who love you, and are willing to do all they can to serve you; and so perhaps have others in the like circumstances; it is not the lot of every sick man, how much soever be may be beloved, to have a friend that can pray for hi He replied, "that is true, and I hope God will have mercy upon me." His love for me from this time be came very remarkable; there was a tenderness in it more than was merely natural; and he generally es but pressed it by calling for blessings upon me in the most affectionate terms, and with a look and manner not to be described. Through the whole of this most painful dispensation he was blest with a degree of resignation to the will of God, not always seen in the behaviour of established Christians under sufferings so great as his. I never heard a murmuring word escape him; on the contrary, he would often say, when his pains were most acute, "I only wish it may please God to enable me to suffer without complaining; I have no right to complain." Once he said, with a loud voice, "Let thy rod and thy staff support and comfort me: and, oh, that it were with me as in times past, when the candle of the Lord shone upon my tabernacle!" One evening, when I had been expressing my hope that the Lord would show him mercy, he replied, "I hope he will; I am sure I pretend to nothing. ' Many times he spoke of himself in terms of the greatest self-abasement. I thought I could discern, in these expressions, the glimpses of approaching day; and have no doubt but that the Spirit of God was gradually preparing him, in a way of true humiliation, for that bright display of Gospel grace which he was soon after pleased to afford him. On Saturday the 10th of March, about three in the afternoon, he suddenly burst into tears, and said, with a loud cry, "Oh, forsake me not!" I went to his bedside, when he grasped my hand, and presently, by his eyes and countenance, I found that he was in prayer. Then, turning to me, he said, "Oh, brother, I am full of what I could say to you. The nurse asked him if he would have any hartshorn or lavender. He replied, None of these things will serve my purpose." I said, But I know what would, my dear; don't I?" He answered, "You do, brother. Having continued some time silent, he said, "Behold, I create new heavens and a new earth.' Then, after a pause, "Aye, and he is able to do it." I left him for about an hour, fearing lest he should fatigue himself with talking, and because my surprise and joy were so great, that I could hardly bear them. When I returned, he threw his arms about my neck, and leaning his head against mine, he said, “ Brother, if I live, you and I shall be more like one another than we have been. But, whether I live or not, all is well, and will be so; I know it will; I have felt that which I never felt before, and am sure that God has visited ine with this sickness, to teach me what I was too proud to learn in health. I never had satisfaction till now. The doctrines I had been used to, referred me to MYSELF for the foundation of my hopes, and there I could and nothing to rest upon, The sheet anchor of the soul was wanting. I thought you wrong, yet wished to believe as you did. I found myself unable to believe, yet always thought that I should one day be brought to do 0. You suffered more than I have done before you believed these truths; but our sufferings, though different in their kind and measure, were directed to the same end. I hope he has taught me that which he teaches none but his own. I hope so. These things were foolishness to me once, but now I have a firm Toundation, and am satisfied." In the evening, when I went to bid him goodnight, he looked stedfastly in my face, and, with great solemsity in his air and manner, taking me by the hand, resumed the discourse in these very words: "As empty, and yet full; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things I see the rock upon which I once split, and I ee the rock of my salvation; I have peace in myself; rand, if I live, I hope it will be, that I may be made a dessenger of peace to others. I have learned that in a oment, which I could not have learned by reading many books for many years. I have often studied these points, and studied them with great attention, but was blinded by prejudice ; and, unless he who alone is wor thy to unloose the seals, had opened the book to me, I had been blinded still. Now they appear so plain, that though I am convinced no comment could ever have made me understand them, I wonder I did not see them before. Yet, great as my doubts and difficulties were, they have only served to pave the way; and, being solved, they make it plainer. The light I have received comes late, but it is a comfort to me that I never made the Gospel truths a subject of ridicule. Though I dissented from the persuasion and the ways of God's people, I ever thought them respectable, and therefore not proper to be made a jest of. The evil I suffer is the consequence of my descent from the corrupt original stock, and of my own personal transgressions; the good I enjoy comes to me as the overflowing of his bounty; but, the crown of all his mercies is this, that he has given me a Saviour; and not only the Saviour of mankind, brother, but my Saviour. "I should delight to see the people of Olney, but am not worthy to appear among them." He wept at speaking these words, and repeated them with emphasis. "I should rejoice in an hour's conversation with Mr Newton; and, if I live, shall have much discourse with him upon these subjects; but I am so weak in body, that at present I could not bear it." At the same time he gave me to understand, that he had been five years inquiring after the truth; that is, from the time of my first visit to him after I left St. Albans; and that, from the very day of his ordination, which was ten years ago, he had been dissatisfied with his own views of the Gospel, and sensible of their defect and obscurity; that he had always had a sense of the importance of the ministerial charge, and had used to consider himself accountable for his doctrine no less than his practice; and that he could appeal to the Lord for his sincerity in all that time, and had never wilfully erred, but always been desirous of coming to the knowledge of the truth. He added, that the moment when he sent forth that cry, was the moment when light was darted into his soul; that he had thought much about these things in the course of his illness, but never till that instant was able to understand them. It was remarkable, that, from the very instant when he was first enlightened, he was also wonderfully strengthened in body, so that from the 10th to the 14th of March, we all entertained hopes of his recovery. He was himself very sanguine in his expectations of it, but frequently said, that his desire of recovery extended no farther than his hope of usefulness; adding, ،، Unless I may live to be an instrument of good to others, it were better for me to die now." As his assurance was clear and unshaken, so he was very sensible of the goodness of the Lord to him in that respect. On the day when his eyes were opened, he turned to me, and in a low voice said, "What a mercy it is to a man in my condition to know his acceptance ! I am completely satisfied of mine. On another occasion, speaking to the same purpose, he said, "This bed would be a bed of misery, and it is so; but it is likewise a bed of joy and a bed of discipline. Were I to die this night, I know I should be happy. This assurance I hope is quite consistent with the Word of God. It is built upon a sense of my own utter insufficiency and the all-sufficiency of Christ." At the same time he said, "Brother, I have been building my glory upon a sandy foundation; I have laboured night and day to perfect myself in things of no profit; I have sacrificed my health to these pursuits, and am now suffering the consequence of my misspent labour. But how contemptible do the writers I once highly valued now appear to me! Yea, doubtless, I count all things loss and dung for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord.' I must now go to a new school. I have many things to learn. I succeeded in my former pursuits. I wanted to be highly applauded; and I was so. I was flattered up to the height of my | paired, and the Comforter withholding for a season his wishes; now, I must learn a new lesson.' On the evening of the 13th he said, "What comfort have I in this bed, miserable as I seem to be! Brother, I love to look at you. I see now who was right, and who was mistaken. But it seems wonderful that such a dispensation should be necessary to enforce what seems so very plain. I wish myself at Olney; you have a good river there, better than all the rivers of Damascus. What a scene is passing before me! Ideas upon those subjects crowd upon me faster than I can give them utterance. How plain do many texts appear, to which, after consulting all the commentators, I could hardly affix a meaning! Now I have their true meaning without any comment at all. There is but one key to the New Testament; there is but one interpreter. I cannot describe to you, nor shall ever be able to describe, what I felt in the moment when it was given to me. May we make a good use of it! How I shudder when I think of the danger I have just escaped! I had made up my mind upon these subjects, and was determined to hazard all upon the justness of my own opinions." His remarkable amendment soon appeared to be no more than a present supply of strength and spirits, that he might be able to speak of the better life which God had given him; which was no sooner done than he relapsed as suddenly as he had revived. His experience was rather peace than joy, if a distinction may be made between joy, and that heart-felt peace which he often spoke of in the most comfortable terms, and which he expressed by a heavenly smile upon his countenance under the bitterest bodily distress. His words upon this subject once were these,- "How wonderful is it that God should look upon man, especially that he should look upon me! Yet he sees me, and takes notice of all that I suffer. I see him too; he is present before me, and I hear him say, Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.'"(Matt. xi. 28.) On the 14th, in the afternoon, I perceived that the strength and spirits which had been afforded him were suddenly withdrawn, so that by the next day his mind became weak, and his speech roving and faltering. But still, at intervals, he was enabled to speak of divine things with great force and clearness. On the evening of the 15th, he said, There is more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety and nine just persons who need no repentance.' That text has been sadly misunderstood by me, as well as by others. Where is that just person to be found? Alas! what must have become of me, if I had died this day se'ennight? What should I have had to plead? My own righteousness! That would have been of no great service to me, to be sure! Well, whither next? Why, to the mountains to fall upon us, and to the hills to cover HS. I am not duly thankful for the mercy I have received. Perhaps I may ascribe some part of my insensibility to my great weakness of body. I hope, at least, that, if I was better in health, it would be better with me in these respects also." 666 The next day, perceiving that his understanding began to suffer by the extreme weakness of his body, he said, "I have been vain of my understanding and of my acquirements in this place; and now God has made me little better than an idiot; as much as to say, Now, be proud if you can. Well, while I have any senses left, my thoughts will be poured out in the praise of God. I have an interest in Christ, in his blood and sufferings, and my sins are forgiven me. Have I not cause to praise him? When my understanding fails me quite, as I think it will soon, then he will pity my weakness." Though the Lord intended that his warfare should be short, yet a warfare he was to have, and to be exposed to a measure of conflict with his own corruptions. His pain being extreme, his powers of recollection much im sensible support, he was betrayed into a fretfulness and I then asked him what he thought of my narrative? There is that in the nature of salvation by grac when it is truly and experimentally known, which prompts every person to think himself the most extre ordinary instance of its power. Accordingly, my b ther insisted upon the precedence in this respect, aly upon comparing his case with mine, would by no mea allow my deliverance to have been so wonderful as own. He observed, that "from the beginning, both his manner of life and his connections had been such had a natural tendency to blind his eyes, and to co and rivet his prejudices against the truth." Blameles in his outward conduct, and having no open immorality. to charge himself with, his acquaintance had been wish men of the same stamp, who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised the doctrines of th cross. Such were all whom from his earliest days b had proposed to himself as patterns for his imitation. As long as he expected to recover, the souls co mitted to his care were much upon his mind. One when none was present but myself, he prayed thes O Lord, Thou art good; goodness is thy very essent, and thou art the fountain of wisdom. I am a pr worm, weak and foolish as a child. Thou hast intrus ed many souls unto me; and I have not been able to teach them, because I knew thee not myself. Grand me ability, O Lord, for I can do nothing without The, and give me grace to be faithful.” L In a time of severe and continual pain, he smiled, and said" Brother, I am as happy as a king." And the day before he died, when I asked him what sort of a night he had had, he replied, "a sad night, not a wink of sleep." I said, "perhaps, though, your mind has been composed, and you have been enabled to pray. "Yes," said he, "I have endeavoured to spend the hours in the thoughts of God and prayer; I have been much comforted, and all the comfort I got, came to me in this way." The next morning, I was called up to be witness of his last moments. I found him in a deep sleep, lying perfectly still, and seemingly free from pain. I staid with him till they pressed me to quit the room, and in about five minutes after I had left him he died; sooner indeed than I expected, though for some days there had been no hopes of his recovery. His death at that time was rather extraordinary; at least I thought so; for, when I took leave of him the night before, he did not seem worse or weaker than he had been, and, for aught | that appeared, might have lasted many days; but the Lord cut short his sufferings, and gave him a speedy and peaceful departure. He died at seven in the morning, on the 20th of Thou art the source and centre of all minds, Give what thou canst, without Thee we are poor, ON THE EVIL OF VAIN CURIOSITY, AND INDETERMINABLE No. I. It vours to remain wilfully ignorant of many awakening truths with which he ought to be familiar, and to smother many a rising conviction where conscience ought rather to be encouraged to do its office: but sadly must he rue such success amid the solemnities of that searching day on which there will be no room for trifling, or for subterfuge. The opposite extreme, in reference to things which engage men's attention, is that of being taken up with things which concern them not at all, or very little. Though the evil here may not be quite so direct and imminent as in the other case, it is, nevertheless, very great. To be occupied with things, either trifling in themselves, or foreign to us, must be hurtful, as it must divert our minds from what is useful, and thus interfere with personal piety. This is, in fact, one principal cause why some persons, even in the midst of much discussion, continue altogether unimpressed, and why others, who are truly serious, do not attain to a far higher degree of experimental, practical, and consolatory religion. While there are some inquiries which are altogether improper, there are many which are of little importance. There are many subjects of thought, which are lawful, and even useful, when kept in their own place, but which become vain and ruinous when engaged in and pursued with a keenness disproportionate to their value, and when they are suffered to engross the mind, and to usurp the place of those things which are essential to our safety, comfort, and holiness. Many inquiries, also, have been raised, which either can never be determined, or which, if they were determined, would be of little or no advantage, perhaps even detrimental to us. The evil of vain curiosity, and of indeterminable and useless speculations, shews itself in many departments of human thought. In the sequel of this paper we shall endeavour to trace it a short way, in the attempts often made to settle certain points more positively and circumstantially than they are settled in Scripture. For example, many questions have been keenly agitated respecting the manner of the existence of the BY THE REV. JAMES FOOTE, A. M., Deity, and especially his existing in three Persons-a subject which seems to be quite beyond the reach of our Minister of the East Parish of Aberdeen. faculties, and of which, therefore, there is very wisely 'HE proneness of mankind to run into extremes, which no explanation in the Word of God. The attempt to as often been made the subject of remark and of re- define here what Scripture has not defined, has very ret, is in few respects more common, or more hurtful, unnecessarily distracted the Church, and very materially an in respect of those things which engage, or ought impeded the good effect which what is clearly revealed ) engage their close attention. Here the extreme on was calculated to produce. The attempt is surely vain. e one hand is, when men either refuse, or neglect, to Can finite fathom infinite? Can the creature compreterest themselves in those objects which really belong hend the Creator? "Canst thou by searching find out them. "I care not, "I shall give myself no God? Canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfecouble about the matter, "That is no concern of tion? It is high as heaven, what canst thou do? Deeper ine; "these are expressions often dictated by the than hell, what canst thou know? The measure thereost culpable inattention to personal interest, or by the of is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea. ost selfish indifference to the welfare of others. We may be certain, that what of himself the Almighty vain, however, for a man to imagine, that because has been pleased to conceal, is not necessary for us to chooses to shut his eyes to the sight, or his ears to know. He has revealed himself to us sufficiently in the face e sound of what is irksome to him, he therefore breaks of Jesus Christ. Enough is known even of the sublime naturally subsisting relations, and ceases to be ac- doctrine of the Trinity. It is taught rather in a practiuntable for consequences. Did the first murderer do cal than theoretical form; and that, no doubt, with the ell, or wisely, in endeavouring to shift off all investiga-wise and gracious intention of diverting us from reconin into the deed which lay heavier than a weight of dite and interminable speculations, that fixing our minds d on his conscience? And had he really no concern on what is said respecting the part which each of the Abel's fate, because, in answer to a question which divine Persons performs in the plan of salvation, we ought to have met in a very different spirit, he re- may have access through the Son, by one Spirit, unto ed, in the pride and stubbornness of his heart, "Am the Father, and may experimentally know the grace of my brother's keeper?" Or, had the Jewish priests our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the comd elders, who concocted and accomplished the con- munion of the Holy Ghost. mnation and crucifixion of the Lord of Glory, nothing answer for, because when the hireling tool of their rocity cried out, in the bitterness of remorse, "I have ned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood," ey chose to say, with an air of indifference, "What that to us? sce thou to that." It is quite possible a man to succeed, in a great measure, in his endea Many questions of apparently insurmountable difficulty, and little practical utility, have also been agitated respecting the works of God. We do not here allude even to the speculations of science properly so called, far less to those investigations which are conducted in a judicious and solid manner: for God having left such subjects to be prosecuted by reason, assisted only by ordinary great evil of an erroneous conscience, and the necessity of having our understandings well enlightened in the path of duty, lest while we imagine we are signalizing ourselves for devotedness to the Lord, we be only blindly sinning against him, and creating to ourselves cause of future shame and contrition. Did Judas partake of the Lord's Supper? This, too, is a question which divides commentators, which ces sionally engages the attention of most Christians, whit it might indeed be desirable to set completely at rest, but on which it is very probable that men will still cen tinue to think differently. And yet, how little does this dispute concern us, in comparison with wha, in reference both to Judas and to the communion, is ir controvertible! To whatever conclusion we may come as to this particular point, our conclusion will invalve other things of far greater importance. If we think that Judas did communicate, we should be filled wi horror at his hypocrisy and presumption, and be led to examine ourselves, lest coming unworthily, we eat and drink judgment to ourselves: if we think he did not communicate, we should pity the traitor whose coscience forced him to retire, and we should see that wa ourselves be the real disciples of Jesus, in order to e worthily and comfortably professing ourselves to be so at his table. providential direction, in a way distinct from revelation, no one is entitled either to say how far reason may succeed in discoveries within its own proper sphere, or to affirm that any of its discoveries will ultimately prove altogether useless. But we ought not to confound such inquiries with what is purely religious, nor confer on them that importance, in reference to religion, which belongs to topics altogether different. With respect, for instance, to the great work of creation, volumes of bypotheses and of theory have been written, which, though affording some entertainment to persons of a peculiarly studious turn, are by no means to be recommended with a view to general religious edification. Did the earth exist very long before it was reduced to its present condition? If it did, in what state, and for what period? What was the exact import of its being "without form and void?" By what process was it brought into its present form? How was there light before the sun was created? What was the length of the six days, and how were they measured? On these and many similar questions men may entertain their own opinions; but it will be in vain to search for a definite solution of them in the Word of God. What Moses has written is brief, and calculated, not to satisfy the curiosity of philosophers, but to convey to every reader, whether learned or illiterate, some general ideas of the subject, and some practical conviction of the skill and power of the Creator. Enough is plain to teach the dullest observer, that the heavens declare the glory of God, and that the firmament sheweth forth his handy-holy city, and appeared unto many." But as to wh› work enough is plain to lead every serious inquirer to fall down before the mighty Maker, and to exclaim, "O Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all. There have been several laboured discussions respecting the situation of the garden of Eden. It has been sought for in Syria, in Armenia, in Palestine, in Chaldæa, in India, in Ceylon, in China, in short, in almost every part of the East. But what is that to us? Surely it will prove more for our benefit to be properly affected by the unquestionable and melancholy fact, that wherever Paradise was, it is Paradise lost to us. Driven out by the angel's flaming sword, banished from the face of the Lord God, and exposed to misery and death, instead of looking for the spot where once bloomed the flowers of Eden, instead of searching for the abode of that terrestrial bliss which is gone for ever, let us be thankful that we have heard of Him who came to restore man to greater glory than that from which he fell; let us give no sleep to our eyes, nor slumber to our eyelids, till we regain the forfeited favour of our Maker; and let it be our main business to prepare for that far happier Eden, where lurks no cunning tempter, and where grows no noxious fruit, but, where having overcome by the blood of the Lamb, we shall walk in garments of white, and eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the Paradise of God. That Jephthah "did with his daughter according to his vow," cannot be questioned, for the Scriptures expressly declare it. But whether, as is the more common opinion, she was actually put to death, or whether, as the law allowed the redemption of a devoted person for ten shekels of silver, she was thus redeemed, and then devoted to perpetual celibacy and the service of God, is a question which has been much agitated. And yet, on both suppositions, the history affords much instruction. In either way, the vow was rash and unlawful, and bound Jephthah to nothing but repentance; and if death was the result, a horrid crime was perpetrated. Jephthah certainly had such faith as enabled him to achieve a great victory; and he also probably had some real religion. But this was a dismal blot in his history, arising probably from the rude manner of his early life, which admitted of his receiving only very imperfect instruction; and it ought to teach us the We are told that "the graves were opened, and my bodies of the saints who slept arose, and came out of the graves after Christ's resurrection, and went into the these saints were,-who the particular persons were t That the souls of believers pass into heaven immediate |