nought, defying his threatenings, and spurning his overtures of mercy! How marvellous the condescending compassion and grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, who has at last brought me to penitence and contrition, and given me a hope of salvation!"

"I suppose you now recal to your recollection, at times, some of the subjects of our former discussions; both your objections to the various parts of revealed truth, and how I endeavoured to refute them?"

"In the first place, I may mention, that from the outset, on the Saturday evening we first met,* and through every succeeding encounter, I had a latent apprehension that you were right; and that your belief, with its consolations and prospects, was far more conducive to human happiness, than my disbelief, with its suspicions and uncertainties; I clearly saw, that on your hypothesis, the loss of life, which is the greatest of human possessions, would be an incalculable gain; but on mine, it would be an irreparable loss. When reasoning in my calmer moments on these data, I arrived at this conclusion-for man's sake the Christian faith ought to be a genuine faith, even if it is not so; and I recollect when you were assigning the causes which invest the name of Jesus Christ with such great power over the human mind on its passing through scenes of extreme privation and peril, and especially when passing from one world to another, I felt that I would gladly exchange my disbelief and its uncertainties, for your faith and its assurances. I now, Sir, by the grace of God, can add my testimony to the truthfulness of what you asserted in that encounter. The Christian faith is both a renovating and consolatory power, and it does the work ascribed to it; it gives peace to a wounded spirit, and a hope full of immortality to the guilty and morally worthless."

"You would not now willingly be what you once were?"

"Be what I once was! no, Sir. As readily suppose that a glorified spirit, if left to his own choice, would choose to come back to earth, to re-tread its polluting soil, to raise again the standard of

* Vol. i. p. 94.

rebellion against the Majesty of heaven, and again intermingle with the workers of iniquity. Be what I once was! no, Sir. Like the man in the gospel who found the pearl of great price, I have no wish to lose what I have miraculously found; I have found the Messiah, Jesus Christ the Saviour, mighty to save; and to his service I now consecrate myself for life and for ever."

He took me one evening to the place where the gun-shot accident happened, and when pointing with his stick to the spot where he fell, he stood a while speechless, the tears trickling down his cheeks. when he exclaimed, under the impulse of strong emotion, “What a mercy that I was not blown from this spot into hell! On this spot, Sir, I have stood every evening since the accident occurred, to offer up my adorations and thanksgiving to the God of my mercies, and to echo the utterance of Paul, 'This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief' (1 Tim. i. 15). Yes, Sir, and I will visit it when the gray hairs of age hang upon me, if I am spared to old age; and shall I ever forget it when in heaven? But the gun-shot and my escape would have proved the materials for a profane joke in a convivial party, had it not been for the sovereign grace of God, who employed it as the precursor of my salvation— 'Bless the Lord, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless his holy name' (Psal. ciii. 1).

He continued at Maidenhead till his health was thoroughly reestablished, and then he returned to London. On his reappearance at the counting-house, in which he had long held an important office, he received the hearty congratulations of the firm, and of all his fellow-clerks, by whom he was greatly respected, for his close application to his duties, his gentlemanly habits, and the kindness of his disposition."

Shortly afterwards he had occasion to pass through my town on some business of his employers, and paid me a visit. We spent a very pleasant evening together. He then informed me that he had had a visit from Mr. Newton, and another infidel friend; who called

with their congratulations on his escape from the gun-shot, and the recovery of his health, and to propose an excursion to Greenwich, with a party, on the following Sunday. This invitation he at once declined, and added, "You probably will be surprised to hear that I renounce as false, and as fatal, all the sceptical sentiments and opinions I once held; and now embrace with gratitude and joy the glorious gospel of Christ, as a true and sublime revelation of mercy and of grace. In future, my Sabbaths will be held sacred to public worship, in preference to any other exercises or pursuits. And I would earnestly entreat you to turn your serious attention to the paramount claims of the gospel; its rejection, as a legend of superstition, will embitter your reflections and appal your anticipations in a dying hour." They listened to this with profound astonishment, making no other remark than simply wishing him well, and then abruptly left him.

I took occasion from this reference to Newton and his companion, to remark, that it would have been a great blessing for himself and others, if he had undergone this change at an earlier period of his life.

"Ah, Sir,” he replied, and the tear stood in his eye as he spoke, "I reflect with shame, and at times with agonizing regret, on the efforts I have made to seduce others from the way of righteousness and peace. My friend Lewellin has happily escaped from the evil course into which I led him on his first settlement in London,* and he is now a bright star in the church of Jesus Christ; but I fear that some have passed into the eternal world, under the fatal delusions with which I perverted their minds. These two old friends who lately paid me a visit of congratulation, and others still living who are lost in the crowd of gaiety and dissipation, have sustained incalculable injury from the influence of my example, and the fatal tendency of my former sentiments and opinions. A recollection of these facts will entail upon me bitter regret and stinging remorse through the whole course of my life; and though I may obtain mercy

* Vol. i. p. 13.

from HIM whose name I have so often blasphemed, yet from them I can expect nothing but the severest invective' for having misled them, or the keenest satire and reproach for turning a renegade, as they will term it, to the system of scepticism we once professed in common."

THE RECTOR'S DEATH-BED.

OR several years Mr. Ingleby's health had been gradually declining, but to the last he displayed great vigour of intellect and vivacity of spirit. When I saw him on the occasion of my wedding visit to Mr. Lewellin, he appeared to be still hale and active, notwithstanding the great age which he had attained. In common with the rest of his friends, I expected that he might still be spared for a few years to instruct them by his counsels, and animate them by his example. Mr. Roscoe's death, however, proved a severe shock to him; he fell into a state of nervous depression; and after a violent cold which he took in going to visit a poor cottager, in a remote part of his parish, his parishioners began to fear that he would soon be removed from them. For several Sabbaths he was confined to the rectory; but when he grew a little better, he resumed the discharge of his pastoral duties. Though he brought into the pulpit the stores of knowledge which he had been collecting for many years, and felt his spirit still glowing with the ardour of an intense affection for the spiritual and eternal welfare of his hearers, his energy was now considerably abated; his voice, which was originally full and commanding, became low and enfeebled, and he often appeared exhausted by fatigue, even before he had half finished the service.

We sometimes see a congregation, which a minister has collected together in the days of his vigour, forsaking him in his old age, to pay

their homage to the rising sun of popularity; preferring the voice of a comparative stranger to that of their former shepherd; but the venerable Ingleby was never deserted. The people pressed to hear him when the silver locks of age adorned his head, with as much eagerness as when he possessed all the energy of youth; and felt as deep an interest in the last services which he conducted, as in any that had preceded them. It must be admitted that his situation did not bring him within the immediate influence of any strong competition for public favour; but though many of his congregation resided much nearer other clergymen, they nevertheless, at all seasons of the year, continued regular in their attendance on the ministrations of Mr. Ingleby to the close of his life. This attachment to their pastor took its rise in the usefulness of his public labours; and as he had uniformly conducted himself amongst them as a holy man of God, devoting his time and his influence to promote their happiness, his character rose in their esteem as circumstances gave him an opportunity of developing it. He acted on the following maxims, which were given him by an aged clergyman, not long after he took orders, and the practical utility of whose advice Mr. Ingleby soon experienced in securing him the permanent regard of his flock:-"Preserve the sanctity of your public character in the intercourse of private and social life. Do not visit your people often, except when they need your visits, and then convince them, that while you have no time to spare for the purposes of amusement or recreation, you are ever ready to attend to the claims of pastoral duty. Avoid engaging in the commerce of the world; yet never think that you are acting beneath the dignity of your station when engaged in giving advice to the inexperienced, or assisting others by your counsels, to guide their affairs with discretion. Let the poor of your flock know that their pastor is their friend in adversity, their advocate when oppressed, and will be their comforter when on the bed of sickness or of death."

About a month before his decease he arose on the Sabbath morning free from pain, the spirit of former times came upon him, and