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as discharged from the duties of religion, and confine the doctrines of the Gospel to people of meaner understandings, and look on that man to be of a narrow genius who studies to be good. What a pity that the holy writings are not made the criterion of true judgment! Favour me, my dear doctor, with a visit, as soon as possible. Writing to you gives me some ease. I am of opinion this is the last visit I shall ever solicit from you. My distemper is powerful. Come and pray for the departing spirit of the unhappy-Buckingham."

8. A SCEPTICAL PHYSICIAN.

"How richly were my noon-tide trances hung
With gorgeous tapestries of pictured joys,
Till at death's toll, whose restless iron tongue
Calls for his millions at a meal,

Starting, I woke, and found myself undone."-YOUNG.

THERE is a very affecting narrative in the confession of a deist at the gates of death. The gentleman in question was a very respectable person of the medical profession in Maidenhead. He was a man of pleasure, as far as business would permit; but his favourite amusement was the card table, at which he spent much time, and would frequently say to Mr. Cooke, a dissenting minister, "I am prodigiously fond of cards." While he was visiting one of his patients he was suddenly taken ill. His conscience was alarmed. His deistical principles, of which he had long made his boast while in health, gave way. He lamented his sad condition in most affecting and pitiable accents. Among other things he acknowledged, with unutterable distress, his neglect of the Lord's day, and the public worship of God. When he was well he could say, "he was easy without the Bible, he had no fears for his soul-he believed it would

die with his body, and he was never disturbed about these things he could read profane history with as much pleasure as another reads his Bible." But when he was ill, and apprehended himself to be on the brink of the grave, he was thrown into such unutterable agony as to be bereft of his reason. In the most bitter terms he bewailed his past folly-mourned over his lost opportunities-declared his full purpose, if restored, of attending to the great concerns of his soul-and solemnly warned his companions not to follow his example-and cried unto God for mercy. At length, after having lain for some time in a senseless state, he breathed out his soul with a dismal groan.

9. A YOUNG LADY.

"The groans of nature in this nether world,

Which heaven has heard for ages, have an end."-CowPER.

THE late Rev. Dr. Henry, of Charleston, S. C., states, that an accomplished and amiable young woman, in the town of, had been deeply affected by a sense of her spiritual danger. She was the only child of a fond and affectionate parent. The deep depression which accompanied her discovery of her state as a sinner awakened all the jealousies of the father. He dreaded the loss of that sprightliness and vivacity which constituted the life of his domestic circle. He was startled by the answers which his questions elicited, while he foresaw, or thought he foresaw, an encroachment on the hitherto unbroken tranquillity of a deceived heart. Efforts were made to remove the cause of disquietude, but they were such efforts as unsanctified wisdom directed. The Bible, at last-O, how little may a parent know the far-reaching of the deed when he snatches the word of life from the hand of a child-the Bible and other books of

religion were removed from her possession, and their place was supplied with works of fiction. An excursion of pleasure was proposed and declined. An offer of gayer amusement was likewise refused. Promises, remonstrances, and threatenings followed. But the father's infatuated perseverance at last brought compliance. Alas! how little may a parent be aware that he is decking his offspring with the fillets of death, and leading them to the sacrifice like a follower of Moloch!

The end was accomplished. All thoughts of piety, and all concern for the immortal future vanished together. But, alas! in less than a year was the gaudy deception exploded. The fascinating and gay LMwas prostrated by a fever that bade defiance to medical skill. The approach of death was unequivocal, and the countenance of every attendant fell, as if they had heard the flight of his arrow. The glazing eye was dim in hopelessness, and yet there seemed a something in its expiring rays that told reproof, and tenderness, and terror in the same glance. And that voice-its tone was still decided, but sepulchral-" My father! last year I would have sought the Redeemer. Fa-ther,-your

child is "

Eternity heard the remainder of the sentence, for it was not uttered in time. The wretched survivor now saw before him the fruit of a disorder whose seeds had been sown when his delighted look followed the steps of his idol in the maze of a dance. O, how often, when I have witnessed the earthly wisdom of a parent banishing the thoughts of eternity, have I dwelt on that expression which seemed the last reflection from a season of departed hope,-"Last year I would have sought the Redeemer!"

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10. I WON'T DIE."

"Ay, I had plann'd full many a sanguine scheme
Of earthly happiness-romantic schemes,
And fraught with loveliness; and it is hard
To feel the hand of death arrest one's steps,
Throw a chill blight o'er one's budding hopes,
And hurl one's soul untimely to the shades,

Lost in the gaping gulf of blank oblivion."-KIRKe White.

THE following affecting account was written in 1775, by a Christian minister of London, to the late Rev. Dr. Ryland, who then resided at Northampton :—

A young lady who was educated at an academy at Bedford, but who afterwards resided in town, became dangerously ill. Her father, a true Christian, procured for her a lodging in the neighbourhood, to try the effect of a change of air. Finding her disorder prevail, he thought it high time for her to be concerned about her soul, and asked her what she thought of eternity. She replied, "Do not talk to me about eternity. You'want me out of the way; but I shall live long enough to enjoy all that you have in the world."

He left her. Next evening the mistress of the house where she was, said, "Ma'am, I think you look a good deal worse."

"Worse! I am much better. Why do you talk to me about death?"

"You certainly are worse; do let the servant sit up with you to-night."

"No, I am not about to die."

They went to bed; at four in the morning she awoke her servant, who asked, "What is amiss, ma'am?" "Amiss! I'm dying, I'm dying!"

The family was called up; the mistress coming in to see her, was thus addressed: "I won't die now; I am

determined I won't die, I will live." Getting worse and worse, she said, "I feel I must die," and in agony screamed out, "Lord, what must I do?" Her servant replied, "You must turn to the Saviour." She fell back on the bed and in a moment expired.

11. TALLEYRAND.

"O, beat away the busy, meddling fiend

That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul."-Shakspeare. TALLEYRAND was a courtier, with all his eminent talents. When in the last moments of his existence, this remarkable man received a visit from Louis Philippe, King of the French; though he had but a few moments to live, he introduced his medical attendants, nurses, and friends, to the king, with a formality and etiquette belonging to the ancien regime.

"How do you feel?" said the king.

"I am suffering, sire, the pangs of the damned!"

12. JOHN NISBET.

"Yet do 1 feel my soul recoil within me
As I contemplate the dim gulf of death,

The shuddering void, the awful blank-futurity.”
Kirke White.

JOHN NISBET, a lawyer of Glasgow, was a mocker of piety, and a drunkard. In 1681, when the martyr, the Rev. Donald Cargill, was on the way to the scene of his sufferings for Christ's cause and crown, this man cruelly insulted him in public. As the martyr stood in chains, he said to him, "Mr. Donald,"-Mr. Cargill, whom he thus addressed, was an aged man, his hair as white as snow; he had been long the eloquent minister of the

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