men, good night to you; and remember me, to confirm you in the religion I have disowned, that you may stand more cautiously by my folly, and secure the happiness I have forfeited.”

The next day came several of his friends out of the country. Having had an account of his circumstances, one of them told him that he and several more of his relations came to town, and were sorry to find him in so weak a condition as he appeared to be in; for now he was nothing but skin and bone, the agonies he lay under during the work of the quickest consumption.

He answered, "I am obliged in common civility to thank you all: but who are my relations? Our Saviour said, such as did the will of his heavenly Father were his relations. I may properly say, that none but the Atheists, the reprobate, and such as do the work of the devil, are my relations. This little tie of flesh and blood will dissolve in a moment, but the relation I have with the damned is permanent. The same lot, the same place of torment, the same exercise of blasphemy, and the same eternity of horror, will be the common lot of us all; so the similitude of torments, place, and duration, will join us in a very strict union."

His friends, who only had heard he was distracted, hearing him deliver himself in such terms were amazed, and began to inquire of some of us, what made him talk at such a rate? He, hearing them whispering together, and imagining the cause, called them all to him, and said,

"You imagine me melancholy or distracted: I wish I were either; but it is part of my judgment that I am not. No; my apprehension of persons and things is rather more quick and vigorous, than it was when I was in perfect health; and it is my curse, because thereby I am more sensible of the condition I am fallen into. Would you be informed why I am become a skeleton in three or four days? See now then I have despised my Maker, and denied my Redeemer; I have joined myself to the Atheists and profane, and continued this course under many convictions, till my iniquity was ripe for vengeance, and the just judgments of God, overtook me, when my security was the greatest, and the checks of my conscience were the least. Since I have denied that salvation which cometh by Jesus Christ, there is no other Mediator or Intercessor for sinners; if there be, which is he that can redeem my soul from hell, or give a ransom for my life? No, no; "if we sin wilfully after we have received the knowledge of the truth, there remains no more sacrifice for sin, but a fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation to consume the adversary." "There remains no more sacrifice for sin," that is the

mean,

wound that pierces my soul. Christ Jesus was the only expiatory sacrifice God would accept; I not accepting, I would say, I despising this, there remains no other for me to accept of, no other to make atonement and satisfaction for me; there is no other name given under heaven but the name of Jesus, whereby we may be saved, and it is that Jesus whom I have reproached, and ridiculed, and abused in his members; nay, to whom I have induced others to do the same. Methinks your breasts are all open to me, and, in the midst of your pity and surprise, you would bid me hope and believe, and supplicate the mercy I have abused, because Jesus Christ came to save sinners, and to bring to repentance. In that I know all your thoughts. Alas, how fain would I hope and believe! Can a man in torments not desire to be freed from them? No, assure yourselves I would upon any terms; but the wrath of God obstructs the power of hoping and believing, and though I would, I can do neither. I know not what some divines. who say, He that desires to repent, does it in some measure; I experience the contrary. A fruitless wish that comes not into act, is no more than a conviction which shall lay such persons under great condemnation. You would have me supplicate that mercy I have abused. Alas, of that I have no hopes, but what depend upon abused mercy! But why said I hopes? I have no hopes! My hopes are frustrated, my expectations are cut off; and what remains behind? Why am I bid to hope and believe? Oh, what mockery is this upon me! To find me in misery, and bid me be happy, without affording me any power of being so! Indeed, should Jesus Christ say so to me, it would be comfort; but for you to say so, is the same thing as to bid a malefactor shake off his chains, and assume his liberty; or call up the dead to rise out of their graves, and challenge their estates and honours again. How idle is it to bid the fire not burn when fuel is administered, and to command the seas to be smooth in the midst of a storm! Such is my case; and what are the comforts of my friends? But I am spent, I can complain no more. Would to God that the cause of my complaining would cease! The cause of my com‐ plaining! this renews my grief, and summons up the little strength I have left to complain again, like an expiring blaze, before it is extinguished. It is just so with me: but whither am I going?"

As he said this, he fainted away, and lay in a swoon a considerable time; but, by the help of some spirits, we brought him to himself again. As soon as he had opened his eyes, he said, "Oh, cruel, unkind friends, to awaken me from a dream, in which I had a cessation from my torments!" This he spoke with so lively a

concern, that no one could refrain from tears. "You weep," said he, "but your tears come too late. Was I like another person that goes out of the world, it would be one of my greatest troubles to see you weep, or at best it would add to my pains; for he must be unnatural and senseless that would not be troubled at the afflictions of others, especially his friends and relations. But the case is otherwise with me. My cup is full, and runs over already; the bitterness of my soul is as great as it possibly can be in this world; my heart is full of horror and anguish; no grief can add to mine, being so great, that it is incapable of receiving more. Perhaps this may seem a paradox to you at first; but what think you of time, and eternity which comprehends and swallows up all time? Can any one add any thing to the wrath of God, which includes the fury of devils and and men; this being derivative from and independent of that? And can any one add to my grief and torture, who am fallen into the hands of the living God? No, no; reserve your tears for your sins, and cast them not away upon one who is neither the better nor the worse for them." You may easily imagine what impressions this would make upon the spirits of his friends. However, in the midst of their grief and amazement, they had the prudence to think of the reputation of their family, and to provide for as much secrecy as was possible.

They therefore conveyed him by night to new lodgings. But he was grown so weak that he fainted away several times in the chair; they got him into his chamber, and to bed, as soon as they could. After a little rest, he yet found strength to express himself thus:

"I am not concerned to know whither you have brought me, or your reasons for so doing. It had been something, if you had changed my state with my lodgings: but my torments are greater than before; for I see that dismal hour just at hand, when I must bid you all farewel."

The physicians were now sent for again, but they still declared they could do nothing for him; only they ordered him some cordial julep, which, they said, might strengthen nature to hold out two or three days longer.

My business calling me away for a day or two, I came again on Thursday morning pretty early; when I came in, I inquired of his friends, how he spent his time. They told me he had had little company; and his expressions were much shorter than before; but what he did speak seemed to have more horror and despair than before. I went to his bed-side, and asked him how he did.

He replied, "Damned and lost forever." I told him the decrees of God were secret; perhaps he was punished in this life to fit him for a better. He answered, "They are not secret to me, but discovered; and my greatest torment, my punishment here, is for an example to others. Oh, that there was no God, or that this God could cease to be, for I am sure he will have no mercy upon me!" "Alas," said I, "there is no contending with our Creator, and therefore avoid such words as may provoke him more.” “True,” replied he, "there is no contending; I wish there were a possibility of getting above God, that would be a heaven to me." I entreated him not to give way to such blasphemous thoughts, for Here he interrupted me. " Read we not in the Revelations of them that blasphemed God, because of their pains? I am one of their number. Oh, how do I envy the happiness of Cain and Judas?" "But," replied I, "you are yet alive, and do not feel the torments of those, that are in hell."

He answered, "This is either true or false; if it be true, how heavy will those torments be, of which I do not yet feel the uttermost? But I know it is false, and that I endure more than the spirits of the damned; for I have the very same torture upon my spirits that they have, beside those I endure in my body. I believe at the day of judgment the torments of my mind and body will both together be more intense; but as I now am, no spirit in hell endures what I do. How gladly would I change my condition for hell! How earnestly would I entreat my angry Judge to send me thither, were I not afraid that out of vengeance he would deny me!" Here he closed his eyes a little, and began to talk very wildly, every now and then groaning and gnashing his teeth: but soon after, opening his eyes, he grew sensible again, and felt his own pulse, saying, "How lazily my minutes go on! When will be the last breath, the last pulse, that shall beat my spirit out of this decayed mansion, into the desired regions of death and hell? Oh! I find it is just now at hand! and what shall I say now? Am not I afraid again to die? Ah, the forlorn hopes of him that has not God to go to! Nothing to fly to for peace and comfort!" Here his speech failed him: we all believing him to be dying, went to prayer; which threw him into an agony; in which, though he could not speak, he turned away his face, and made what noise he could to hinder himself from hearing. Perceiving this, we gave

over.

As soon as he could speak, (which was not till after some time) he said, "Tigers and monsters, are ye also become devils VOL. II. 3 B

to torment me, and give me a prospect of heaven, to make my hell more intolerable?"

"Alas, Sir,” said I, "it is our desire of your happiness that casts us down at the throne of grace; if God denies assistance, who else can give it? If he will not have mercy, wither must we go for it?"

He replied, "Oh, that is the dart that wounds me! God is become my enemy, and there is none so strong as to deliver me out of his hands. He consigns me over to eternal vengeance, and there is none able to redeem me! Was there such another God as he, who would patronize my cause: or was I above God, or independent on him; could I act or dispose of myself as I pleased; then would my horrors cease, and the expectations and designs of my formidable enemies be frustrated. But, oh! this cannot be, for I ———.”

His voice failed again, and he began to struggle and gasp for breath; which having recovered, with a groan so dreadful and horrid, as if it had been more than human, he cried out, "OH, THE UNSUFFERABLE PANGS OF HELL AND DAMNATION!" and then expired.

V. D.

MINISTERIAL FAITHFULNESS.

[From De La Flechere's Portrait of St. Paul.]

ST. PAUL gives the following pastoral instructions to Timothy: "Give attendance to reading, to exhortation, to doctrine. Neglect not the gift that is in thee. Meditate upon these things, give thyself wholly to them. Take heed unto thyself and to thy doctrine; continue in them: for in doing this thou shalt both save thyself, and them that hear thee. Preach the word; be instant in season, out of season: reprove, rebuke, exhort, with all long-suffering and doctrine." Now, had it ever entered into the mind of the apostle, that it would be proper for pastors to compose their sermons in the manner of rhetoricians, and to deliver them as public orators, he would most probably have given some intimation of this to his disciple. In such case, he would have held out to his pupil in divinity, some instructions of the following nature. "O Timothy, my son! I have frequently commanded thee to labour in the work of the Lord, according to my example. But as thou art not an apostle, properly so called, and hast not received the gift of languages, I advise thee to write over thy sermons as correctly as possible. And after this, do not fail to rehearse them