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some time before they fought; but, deluded by a false notion of honour, believing their courage would be called in question if they did not fight, they armed themselves with swords and pistols. went, without any malice, in the same coach, to the place where the matter was to be decided; and on the first discharge of the pistols, Sir Chomley was mortally wounded, and died a few days after, lamenting the unhappy occasion, and that none of their friends would be so good as to endeavour to make up the matter before they fought; for it seems there were some days between the challenge and the engagement: nor was Mr. Thornhill less afflicted than his dying friend, for the unfortunate murder which that false notion of honour had incited him to commit on a gentleman in whose defence he would readily have ventured his own life at another time. I have related this the more largely, that gentlemen, reflecting on this unhappy adventure, may, when passionate words are let fall, deliberate a little before they run headlong to their own destruction. It has been observed, that the Romans, the bravest men that ever ruled the world, gave no encouragement to this practice of duelling. They thought there was more honour in passing by an affront, than resenting it; especially in so outrageous a manner. The highest point of honour among them was, the saving the life of a fellow citizen; and among us, no man is thought brave till he has murdered a friend and shall Christians, whose very characteristic is a forgiving benevolent temper, become more savage than heathens, by encouraging these barbarous encounters? The Parliament, it is true, was so sensible of the inhumanity of the practice, that a bill was brought in this sessions (1711) to prevent the infamous practice of duelling; but it was unaccountably dropped; and we have yet no law that sufficiently restrains gentlemen from cutting the throats of their friends and relations! for that absurd notion still prevails, That he is a scoundrel who refuses to be a murderer!


See Memoirs of the Life and Reign of Q. Anne.

IN reading the anecdote, in your last Number, upon "Infidel Wit repelled," I was reminded of a certain minister, who was more busied in the pleasures of the chace than in superinterding the souls of his flock. This gentleman, one day, meeting with little sport, proposed to entertain his companions at the expence of an inoffensive Quaker, whom he had often very rudely ridiculed; and who was then approaching them. Immediately he rode up briskly to him, saying, “Obadiah, have you seen the hare?"- Why, neighbour, hast thou lost him? said the honest Quaker. "Lost him! yes, indeed." Then replied he, 'If I were the hare, I would run where I amn sure thou wouldst never find me.' "Where the D- is that!" said the blustering son of Nimrod. Why, neighbour,' the other answered, I would run into thy study.'


M. W.


abled to leave them all in the hands of the Lord; I have never given myself a moment's uneasiness about them."


I LEARN, from the church-books, that about nine years have elapsed since he was called by grace. His patience was equal to his re had frequently attende 1 the preach- signation. Not a murmur escaped ing of the gospel; but the solemn from his lips during a long and painprovidence of a brother's death-ful confinement. He was enabled eminently to illustrate the resolution of pious Job, "All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come." I saw him in one of the severest attacks of his pains occasioned by wounds made in different parts of his body, thro' long confinement; but while writhing with agony, he was employed in admiring the goodness of God, or praying for divine assistance in his exigency: - Lord !" he exclaimed, "look upon a poor unworthy sinner, and send help from above." Had I then been required by an infidel, to prove the excer lency of Christianity, I could not have done better than to have taken him to the sick chamber of this departing Christian; while should have been induced to exclaim, with holy triumph, "Here is the patience of the saints !"


first seriously alarmed his mind,
and made him direct his views to
eternal things. He was admitted
member of a Christian church, in
Banbury, in the year 1797; and
since that time he has filled up the
stations of a husband, a father, a
servant, and a member of a Chris-
tian Society, with comfort to him
self, satisfaction to others, and hon-
our to the cause of religion. He
had a pleasing gift for prayer; and
the church will doubtless feel his
loss, at their social meetings for this
purpose. The affliction which ter-
minated his death was a rapid de-
cline. This fatal disorder, in the
course of a few months, reduced a
vigorous frame of body to a truly
deplorable spectacle; but while
his outward man decayed, his in-
ward man was renewed day by day.
He enjoyed an astonishing share of
the divine presence; and in him the
promise was amply verified," As
thy day is, so shall thy strength be."
His conversation, in his last mo-
ments, will display the wonderful
combination of Christian graces
which richly adorned this departed
His resignation was great.
had not many months been united
with an agreeable pious partner;
he was the parent of an engaging
child, about six or seven years old,
the fruits of a former marriage;
he was in the prime of life, and re-
spected by all who knew him, yet,
from the first prospect of death, he
never breathed a wish for a longer
respite; but left all his affairs in
the hands of God. When I first
went to see him, I asked him par-
ticularly, how his mind was af-
fected respecting his worldly con-
cerns? His reply was, "I am en

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His faith was strong, and founded on the Rock of Ages. It was his privilege to be assured of his interest in a covenant God. When I once asked him the state of his mind, he replied, "I bless God I can say I know in whom I have believed," &c. It was his felicity to be enabled to stretch out the hand of Faith, and appropriate the promises of the gospel to his urgent necessities. A few times the sunshine of Comfort was intercepted by clouds, but he was sensible that his doubts were the offspring of a tempter, working upon a weak frame; and he carried them to God, and received satisfactory and consoling answers from the throne of grace. At one time he said, "I am still enabled to rest upon a faithful covenant-keeping God. Blessed be God! he is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever." At another


time, when doubts had intervened, he said, "I have been feasting on that promise, "When thou passest through the waters," &c. strengthened by a dependence on its eternal truth, he added, "Yea, though I walk through the valley," &c.


His love to his Redeemer was ardent. How did he long to depart and be with Christ! How frequently did he repeat, "Comé, Lord Jesus, come quickly! Do come, dearest Lord!" Nor can I forget his once laying his hand upon his heart, and appealing seriously to Heaven, in the language of a zealous disciple of old, "Lord, thou knowest all things; knowest that I love thee."


His hope was truly animated. I will mention ane instance: -When I called one day, he was agonized with pain, and groaning beneath his tortures. I stood by the bedside in silence. He suddenly raised his head, and lifted up his hands to Heaven, while his dying eyes beamed with inexpressible delight, and exclaimed, with equal energy of expression. "Look unto me, and be ye saved all ye ends of the earth!"

His humility was an ornament to the whole of these graces. As it it is an established custom at Banbury, on the death of a member, to improve the event by a funeralsermen, he selected Rev. xiv. 13, as suitable for the occasion; but requ quested that the latter clause should be left out, sensible that he was a poor unworthy servant of Christ; however, after an explanation of the nature of the passage, he left it to the minister's pleasure. be slept in Jesus, May 27, aged thirty-one. His funeral-sermon was preached by Mr. Cobbin, at the New Chapel, Banbury, on the Sabbath evening after his interment, to a large and crowded auditory. Banbury.

J. C.


THE Lord's dealings in providence are often very mysterious, especially in bereavements. Often are the young snatched away by death in the bloom of life; and the more aged, whose usefulness seems

nearly past, are spared. An affect ing instance of this kind, has lately been experienced in the family of Mr. Graham, of Newbury, whose eldest daughter died on the 28th of May, aged seventeen last Christmas- - day. The influenza, with which she was seized in March, left her in a very languid state, and settled upon her lungs; and proved the cause of her dissolution, after nearly eleven weeks illness, borne in an exemplary manner with Christian resignation.

The Lord, in infinite mercy, very early in life enabled her to seek him, as her only portion; and to prefer affliction with the people of God, to the enjoyment of the pleasures of sin. At six years of age she had strong convictions of sin; which led her to cry to God, in secret prayer, for pardon. At that time she had learnt, and repeated to her parents, "Dr.Watts's Hymns for Children;" but it was the ninth hymn, on "The all-seeing God," that more particularly affected her mind, especially the second and last verses; toge. ther with reading that excellent book, "Janeway's Token for Chil dren." Hereby she was led to reflect that prayer, and even secret duty, were not acceptable in God's sight, unless from the heart. From this time she had a clear view of herself as a sinful creature; and undone, without an interest in Christ. Family-religion, and the instructions of her parents, were much blessed to the establishment of her mind. At the age of thir teen, she had a strong desire to join the church of Christ, under the pastoral care of the Rev. J. Winter; but was fearful of being rejected on account of her age. Sometime afterwards, clearly seeing it to be her duty, she opened her mind to a friend; and was cheerfully ad mitted, to the entire satisfaction of • every member, as well as to the great comfort of her parents, at the age of fifteen. Her walk and deineanor, as a follower of Christ, was truly consistent, and gained her the esteem and affection of her Christian friends; and indeed of all in the circle of her acquainta ce among whom she was cal¬ nestly desirous of being useful.


The Lord denied not her request. A testimony of this has been received by her parents since her decease, from a school at Islington, where she for some time resided *. She also bore an active part in the Sunday schools at Newbury; in which she took much delight.

395 After a

ing, of the 28th of May. very restless night, she said to the with her, "I am very sleepy: lay servant and a friend who sat up me down, that I may go to sleep. sweetly falling asleep in Jesus, She did so, and never awoke again; without a groan or sigh.


ably improved by her pastor, on This striking providence was suitthe morning of the next Sabbath after her interment, from Prov.viii. persons, by his assistant-minister 17; and, in the evening, to young Mr. Philp, from Prov. iii. 17. W. G.


At the commencement of her ill. ness, her mind was very uncomfortable for about a fortnight; and Satan was permitted to tempt and disturb her. After this, however, her mind was brought into a sweet, calm, and serene frame; which continued to the last period of her existence. Quite resigned to the will of God, her desire (as she often expressed it) was to lie passive in his hand, and know no will but his; and that her affliction might not be On July 26, died, in the thirtyremoved till sanctified. Frequently, R. Densham, late itinerant preacher seventh year of his age, the Rev. when her parents inquired into the state of her mind, and said, they lages, under the patronage of the at Petersfield, and the adjacent vilwere fearful she would not recover, Society called The Village Lineraxy, - she answered, "I am quite comfortable; I have no fear as to the Superintendant and Treasurer. Mr. of which the late Rev. J. Eyre was consequences of death, for I know Densham, on the 25th, had taken a in whom I have believed:" but one-horse chaise, with intent to (her affection for them being so meet Mr. Wilks and another memstrong) she could not bear to converse about parting. When talk about twelve miles from Petersper of the Society at Haslemere, ing one day with a pious friend, field; where they had appointed to who expressed her doubts and fears meet, to consult upon the propriety as to her own state,she said, "I of erecting a place of worship in have had a thousand doubts and that borough. fears; but, I bless God, they are all removed! I think it is sinful for the town, the horse took fright, On coming into you to encourage them." When where the chaise was overset; and ran with violence into an inn-yard, asked by her mother, the morning Mr. Densham, falling with his head before she died, Do you still love against the stable, had his scull Jesus? is he precious to you? and fractured. The best medical help your only hope?' She replied, "I should be very sorry if my love without effect; for, about three was immediately procured, but were so soon turned away. should I now do? And were it pired. What o'clock, the next morning he expossible for me to spend an eterThe reader will judge of nity of what the world calls Plea- friend; their pleasures were turnthe sudden pang that seized the sure, I would gladly resign it all to be with Christ !". ed into sorrow in a moment; and When her suf- pen cannot describe how greatly la ferings were pitied (for it was dis-mented he died, having been much tressing to hear her breathe) she beloved and owned in his ministry. said, "What is my suffering, com- On the following Thursday he was pared to that of Christ! all his interred in the chapel at Petersdealings to me have been mercy." field, under the pulpit, where, but She still grew weaker; having had four days before, he had been deno refreshing sleep, without medi- livering two very impressive discal assistance, for nearly ten weeks, courses. till about two o'clock in the morn Mr. Wilks preached his funeral-sermon.

* Mrs. Colebrook and the Miss Martins, of Colebrooke Row,


The History of the Origin and

Transactions of the Missionary
Society, &c.

[Concluded from our last]

WE have already mentioned the extraordinary conversion of Dr. In a second Letter, Vanderkemp. the Doctor adds,

"You desire to have an account of some particulars respecting the conversion of my soul to Christ.

"Christianity, to me, once appeared inconsistent with the dictates of reason; the Bible, a collection of incoherent opinions, tales, and prejudices. As to the person of Christ, I looked at first upon him as a man of sense and learning, but who, by his opposition to the established ecclesiastical and political maxims of the Jews, became the object of their hate, and the victim of his own system. I often celebrated the memory of his death by partaking of the Lord's Supper; but, some time after, reflecting that he termed himself the Son of God, and pretended to do miracles, he lost all my former vene ration.

by the hand, and lead me in the way ever

"I could not however entirely get rid of the idea of being corrected by means of punishment; and I still looked on the doctrines of Christ's deity and atonernent as useless and blasphemous, though I carefully kept this my opinion secret.

Such was the state of iny mind, when, on the 27th of June, 1791, sailing in a boat, with my wife and daughter, for amusement, suddenly a water-spout overtook us, and turning the boat in an instaut upside down, we were sunk before we apprehended any danger. Both my dearest relations were drowned, and I was carried down by the stream above a mile; and must soon have infallibly been lost also, as from the violence of the storm, no per son could attempt to approach the wreck, and it was supposed we must all have pethe Lord But now rished together. stretched forth his hand to deliver me:a stronger vessel, lying in the port of Dort, was, by the storm, rent from its moorings, and blown out of the port to wards till the men on board thought me, they discovered a person floating on the side of the wreck, and rescued me from the jaws of death.

"I considered this terrible event as the severest punishment that could be inflicted on me; and saw, the next day, as clear as the light, that it had no more power to correct me than all the former providences, and hence concluded my state to be des perate, and that God abandoned me as incutable by correction.

“I then prayed that God would prepare me, by punishing my sins, for virtue and happiness, and 1 thanked him for every misfortune; but the first observation I made was, that though I was oftentimes severely chastised, it did not make ine I therefore again prayed wiser or better. to God, that he would show me, in every instance, the crime for which I was punished, that might know and avoid it; but finding this vain, I feared that I should never, perhaj s, be corrected in this life by punishment. Still I hoped I might be delivered from moral evil, after death, in some kind of purgatory, by a seveier punishment; yet reflecting that punishment had proved itself utterly ineffectual to produce even the lowest degree of virtue in my soul, I was constrained to acknowledge that my theory, though it seemed by a priori reasoning well grounded, was to tally refuted by experience; and I concluded, it was entirely out of the reach of mny reason to discover the true road to virtue and happiness. I confessed this. my impotence and blindness to God; and owned myself, as a blind man, who had lost his way, and waited in hope that some benevolent man would pass by, and Thus I lead me into the right way. waited upon God, that he would take me

"The next Sunday I went to the church where the Lord's Supper was to be admi nistered; and though it seemed inconsist ent with my principles to join in the praises of one whom I still held to be an impostor, yet, being ashamed to withdraw from the table, I placed myself among the communicants; but, in order to di veit my thoughts from the object of the solemnity, I directed them to God nearly in this kind of meditation: — I could not acquiesce in thy dealings with me, nor submit to thy will; but now I I chuse to be deprived of my wife and child, because it is thy will;-accept them from my hands:-I trust entirely

My God,


on the","

"At this moment these words were re presented to my imagination, with an over-ruling authority, "Do not trust them I started at the to God, but to me.' strange idea of not trusting to God, not could I conceive the paradox. I felt my❤


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