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of Divine truth illuminated their minds, than they were convinced it was a light too precious to be put under a bushel, or confined to their own bosoms. They therefore preached to the people of Istria the true doctrine of the Gospel, according to the measure of grace given them."

The Bishop of Pola, no great while after his conversion, died, as was supposed, of poison: his brother, the subject of our notice, died at Tübingen, where he was some time professor, and his funeral sermon was preached by the celebrated Andreæ, (in allusion to his having once been an active agent of the pope,) from 1 Tim. i. 13. On this occasion, Andreæ drew a parallel between Paul and Vergerio, as having both been brought to preach the faith they had before endeavoured to destroy.

For the particulars of Doddridge's decease we must refer to Orton's Memoir. A remarkable interest attends the deaths of Brainerd and Martyn, both of whom devoted their best energies to the conversion of the heathen, and were cut off in comparatively early life. The entire isolation of Martyn from all Christian society when he died at Tocat, prevented his friends from ever obtaining the particulars of his death; but he had often perused the beautiful account we have of Brainerd's aspirations after a better world, and there can be no doubt that he died in the same spirit. The following extract is taken from the beginning of a letter addressed by Brainerd to his brother, just before his departure:

"I am now just on the verge of eternity, expecting very speedily to appear in the unseen world. I feel no more an inhabitant on earth, and sometimes earnestly long to depart and to be with Christ. I bless God he has for some years given me an abiding conviction, that it is impossible for any rational creature to enjoy true happiness, without being entirely devoted to him. Under the influence of this conviction, I have in some measure acted. O that I had done more! I saw both the excellency and necessity of holiness; but never in such a manner as now, when I am just brought to the side of the grave. Oh! my brother, pursue after holiness! press towards the blessed mark; and let your thirsty soul continually say, 'I shall never be satisfied till I awake in thy likeness.'

"The nature of his maladies was such, as subjected him to very acute and severe sufferings. Yet his patience continued unexhausted, his hope unclouded. Many very striking and instructive expressions fell from his lips, which we cannot here repeat. I as sincerely desire to love and glorify God as any angel in heaven. How infinitely sweet it is to love God, and to be all for him!' He ceased not to exhort his friends, and pour out his heart in fervent devotion, till October 8, 1747, when his conflict ended."

Brainerd died in his thirtieth, and Martyn in his thirty-second year. Both of them, like Janeway, had distinguished themselves greatly in their university studies, and they appear to have been, in all respects, of congenial temperament. Robert Hall, in his preface to the Memoirs of the Rev. Joseph Freeston, has written so beautifully respecting them, that we shall need no apology if we occupy the remainder of this paper with his account.

"The Life and Diary of David Brainerd, missionary to the American Indians, exhibits a perfect pattern of the qualities which should distinguish the instructor of rude and barbarous tribes; the most invincible patience and self-denial, the profoundest humility, exquisite prudence, indefatigable industry, and such a devotedness to God, or rather such an absorption of the whole soul in zeal for the Divine glory and the salvation of men, as is scarcely to be paralleled since the age of the apostles. Such was the intense ardour of his mind, that it seems to have diffused the spirit of a martyr over the most common incidents of his life. His constitutional melancholy, though it must be regarded as a physical imperfection, imparts an additional interest and pathos to the narrative; since we more easily sympathise with the emotion of sorrow than of joy. There is a monotony in his feelings, it must be acknowledged, and consequently a frequent repetition of the same ideas, which will disgust a fastidious or superficial reader: but it is the monotony of sublimity.






"The religious public have lately been favoured with a rich accession to the recorded movements of exalted piety in the Life and Religious Experience of the lamented Henry Martyn. It is delightful to behold in the history of that extraordinary man, talents which attracted the admiration of one of the most celebrated seats of learning, consecrated to the honour of the Cross; an enterprising genius, in the ardour of youth, relinquishing the pursuit of science and of fame, in order to travel in the steps of a Brainerd and a Schwartz. Crowned with the highest honours a university could bestow, we see him quit the luxurious shades of academic bowers, for a tempestuous ocean and a burning clime-for a life of peril and fatigue, from which he could expect no other reward than the heroic pleasure of communicating to perishing millions the word of eternal life. He appears to have formed his religious character chiefly on the model of Brainerd: and as he equalled him in his patience, fortitude, humility, and love, so he strictly resembled him in his end. Both, nearly at the same age, fell victims to a series of intolerable privations and fatigues, voluntarily incurred in the course of their exertions for the propagation of the faith of Jesus. And though their death was not a violent one, the sacrifices they made, and the sufferings they endured, entitle them to the honours and rewards of a protracted martyrdom. Their memory will be cherished by the veneration of all succeeding ages; and he who reads their lives will be ready to exclaim, Here is the faith and patience of the saints.'"


Everton, November 1, 1786.

DEAR SIR, I had bought some very strong good cloth to make two coats and breeches, for two very poor but upright preachers, and had sent it a fortnight ago, with a guinea to each to make the clothes up, with some thoughts of your bounty to eke the matter out, but I find you are no friend to eking, for you have made the whole up, with a remnant besides. On opening your letter, I gave the Lord hearty thanks for your donation, with a prayer for a blessing on the donor; and may his blessing ever rest on you and yours, Amen. I had much of my nervous fever in the summer, which kept me at home; and the Lord took away my hearing for three months, so that I was not conversible; then my eyes seemed to be going apace; and at one time, I had an apprehension of being both deaf and blind. At first, I prayed daily to the Lord for my hearing, but with submission to his will; and on Sunday fortnight, he gave me a better pair of ears-thanks be to his grace!--not perfectly restored, yet, so as to make me able to converse with comfort; and they seem still

to be mending. This has encouraged me to ask for a better pair of eyes. And why should I not? Jesus has eyes to give as well as ears, and he can bear dunning; nay, is never better pleased than with a thousand duns at his door. Well, my eyes are somewhat better,-thanks again to my Healer-and I keep praying on. I am glad to hear you write of a visit to Everton: we have always plenty of horse provender at hand, but unless you send me notice beforehand of your coming, you will have a cold and scanty meal, for we roast only twice in the week; let me have a line, and I will give you the same treat I always gave to Mr. Whitefield, an eighteen-penny barn-door fowl; this will neither burst you, nor ruin me. Half you shall have at noon with a pudding, and the rest at night. Much grace and sweet peace be with yourself and partner, and the blessing of a new heart be with your children! With many thanks, I remain

To Mr. Benjamin Mills.

Your affectionate servant,


P.S. Please to present my love to the trustees, and all the labourers.

Tabernacle, March 2, 1788.

DEAR AND HON. SIR,-After I left St. James's-place, I spent the afternoon with Mrs. Peckwell, a precious woman, and a living instance of what grace can do. Some little gloom hung upon her countenance, but a cheerfulness appeared in her speech and temper. She did not, or she would not, seem to know of anything amiss in the Doctor, but spoke of him with great tenderness. The daughter is the very image of the father, and the son pleased me much. At five he came from school, and I asked him whether he had learned to swear. He answered, No. I asked further, has no one tried to make you swear? Yes, he said, many had tried, and once he was offered a guinea to make him swear, but would not. What nurseries of vice are public schools! and the next nursery is an university. If you can be of any service to Ann Street, you will do an act of kindness to a blind Christian woman. On Tuesday se'nnight I purpose to return to Everton, when I shall be released from gossipping visitors, and have leisure for the word of God and prayer. I am weary of my wretched self, and weary too of prattling visitors. No rest can I find but in God, in musing of Him, or in converse with Him. All things else are an aching void, promising something, but bringing nothing. The Lord Jesus fill you with his heavenly treasures, and make your seed a holy offspring. Much grace be with you, dear Sir, and with your truly affectionate servant,

To John Thornton, Esq.


Tabernacle, January 10, 1789.

DEAR AND HON. SIR,-Yesterday, I came to Tabernacle safe and well, after some delay and peril in the morning early from a rusty horse. The first five miles he went well, then would only walk, and turn about. At six, when the moon went down, he fell down, and would go no further. We were now eight miles from Stevenage, sitting cold in a chaise. I betook myself lustily to the good old remedy, prayer, and the Lord inclined a wagoner to lend us a horse to Stevenage, and put our rusty one into his team. Is not the Lord wonderful in working? who would distrust him? After this deliverance, attended with many thanksgivings, I had a fresh occasion for much joy and thankfulness, this morning, for your double tens for the poor, who will now be flocking for relief, like sparrows to a barley-stack in winter, and will have the comfort of your silver grains. I received your account of Mr. Hamilton, which is encouraging, but I commit all to my Master in daily prayer

telling him, the curate is not for me, but for himself, and desiring him to direct my kind friends in their search, and to direct the heart of a youth to Everton, who may profit the people. By means of constant prayer, my heart is quite at ease. Oh, the blessing of faith; thanks to my Jesus for a pittance of it! The Lord multiply daily mercies upon you, and bless your children with a heart-felt knowledge of his salvation.

To John Thornton, Esq.

I am, dear Sir,

Your truly affectionate and obliged

Everton, November 23, 1790.

DEAR SIR, Our years are rolling away fast, and will quickly roll us into eternity. How needful that admonition, "Prepare to meet your God!" Without earthly business to mind, my heart will rove in the world, get bemired in it, and stick so fast in a quag, I am forced to cry, Lord, pull my heart out. Thanks to grace, I have been crawling many years on the road to Sion, sometimes in, and sometimes out, and the Master has somewhat quickened my pace in the summer by a draft of birch wine, as needful at times for a heavy-heeled pilgrim, as the wine of the kingdom. Now being almost through the wilderness, very sick of self, and of a daggling world, I am drawing near to mount Pisgah; and when I stand on its top, the Lord give an open eye of faith to see all the promised land, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God! The windows of my house grow dimmer, scarce give a straight line, or spell a word right, and dislike a pen much; yet, thanks to the Lord, my health is better, my ears pretty stout, and my legs keep mending, are peaceable in a chair, though fretful in bed. I purpose, with the good leave and help of my Master, to set off for Tabernacle, on Tuesday, the 28th of December, unless a fall of snow then happen, which would delay me, till the roads are tracked; the Lord afford his presence, protection, and blessing! Blessed be God for a prospect of peace: much wrangling here about things civil and sacred, but no belligerents above, one heaven holds all, one temple serves all, and one Jesus feeds all, with his own love, joy, and peace. My eyes cry for quarter; so with affectionate respects to your partner, the trustees, and preachers, I remain, your much obliged servant,


To Mr. Benjamin Mills.


My soul with hourly griefs oppressed,

Dismiss thy overwhelming fears,
Anticipate the heavenly rest
Where God shall wipe away all tears.

And though between that rest and thee
The bitter waves of Jordan roll,

Cheer up, thy passage safe shall be,
To realms where death is known no more.


There, not a sorrow left uncured,
Nor mournful cry shall e'er dismay,
There, not a pain shall be endured,
The former things are passed away.

J. S.


Christian Baptism. An Inquiry into the Scripture Evidence of its Nature, the Modes, Subjects, and Design of the Rite, and the Meaning of the Term. By J. H. Godwin, Highbury College. 18mo. pp. 415.

Baptism in its Mode and Subjects. By Alexander Carson, D.D., Minister of the Gospel. 8vo. pp. 513.


Modern Immersion directly opposed to Scriptural Baptism. In reply to Alexander Carson, D.D. By James Munro, Minister of the Gospel, Knockando. 8vo. pp. 60. Essay on Baptism, with some Remarks Church, on which Puseyism is built. Author of several works on Slavery pp. 60.

on the Doctrine of the Nicene By Thomas Clarkson, A.M., and the Slave Trade. 8vo.

HERE are above a thousand pages more on the Baptist controversy. The subject must be very difficult, or the minds of men very perverse. Our Baptist friends say, that the latter is the case, not the former. Some among them do indeed give us credit for obtuseness of intellect, but the greater number, especially their leading men, incline to charge us with moral obliquity. This is not very complimentary to us, either as men, or as Christians: but let that pass; to our own Master we stand or fall. Whether we are more wicked than weak, or more weak than wicked, one thing is certain, that the holy and transforming truths of the New Testament, truths from which we separate, in our contemplations, all thought of that which is merely ritual, have failed to call forth such an array of advocates or opponents as we find banded together on the two opposite sides of this controversy. We should deem it a severe penalty to read even a tenth part of what has sprung up in this fertile field, the productive power of which, like one of good John Bunyan's favourites, seems to increase as it dispenses its bounty

"A man there was, and some did count him mad;
The more he cast away, the more he had."

Some cultivate this field for the general good-others with a more confined view. The former have respect to the benefit of the church at large, the latter only to a section of it. The field of the former is the world; of the latter, a parish, or some confined locality. These are anxious either to make proselytes, or to prevent the members of their churches or congregations from being drawn away to another, and, as

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