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friend had had, at different times, about their Saviour. "It pleased God," says that friend, "that neither duty nor sickness prevented any of us from being with him in his last moments. There were five of us (officers of the same regiment) present, who, I trust, are ready to make the same declarations and testimony to the truth. We were much attached, even before our friendship had been cemented by unity of spirit, and his loss to me is almost irreparable. He was the object of the greatest respect in this truly respectable regiment, and his memory will long live in their remembrance. But he is gone to the general assembly and church of the First Born; to an innumerable company of angels; to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect.'

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Such was the account, considerably abridged, of this excellent young man, contained in a letter from Captain John Gordon, Sen. of the same regiment, written to his friends at Edinburgh.

Alas! before these accounts, dated November 16th, were received, he had himself fallen by the same fatal disease. At the time of his death, he was 37 years of age. He did not enter the army till his 24th year; having been an advocate at the Scottish bar for some time previously. But the natural ardour of his mind, and some predilection, also, for a military life, led him, though not deficient in talents or knowledge, to desert a profession, the emoluments of which are seldom rapidly attained. He saw a good deal of hard service in the Irish Rebellion, and in Portugal and Spain, at Vimiera, Talavera, Oporto, and the retreat from Burgos, where he attended Lord Dalhousie as his aid-de-camp.

His health and constitution, never very vigorous, were gradually impaired by the hardships which he then underwent; and he was also subjected to more than one course of exhausting medicine, which left him much

enfeebled, though relieved from the symptoms which made it necessary. Dangers, however, and sickness, did not teach him to apply his heart unto wisdom. The religious instruction which he received in infancy and youth, in the family of his widowed mother (for he lost his father, when very young, by the sudden stroke of apoplexy) seemed to have had no effect in directing his regards to the Gospel. As little benefit seemed to attend the subsequent admonitions and example of the Reverend Mr. Thomason, at Cambridge, (now of Calcutta,) in whose house, and afterwards at Trinity Hall, he spent more than a year after he had finished his studies at the University of Edinburgh. Though well esteemed among his companions, and the object of warm attachment to his family and friends, which, indeed, on his part, was reciprocal; he continued till within two years and two months of his latter end, unimpressed by the truths of the Gospel, a slave of divers lusts and pleasures, and ambitious only of distinction and happiness upon earth.

It pleased God, however, about that time, to draw his attention to the importance and reality of things unseen. The impressions made by these were silent and gradual, through the conversation and example of a friend whom he highly and deservedly esteemed. By that friend, he was brought into the society of some of the excellent of the earth, and persuaded to attend on the preaching of the Gospel, as well as to study the word of God. From about that period, (October, 1814,) to the moment of his death, the change in his principles and pursuits was abiding and progressive. It soon appeared that he was renewed in the spirit of his mind; and in no long time he was marked by his friends and former associates, as the opposite of what he had been. From thenceforward, he added to faith, fortitude, knowledge, self

government, patience, piety, brotherly love, and benevolence. Confiding in the word of his grace, be walked in the fear of God, and in the comforts of the Holy Spirit. His zeal for the salvation of others, kept pace with the ardour and perseverance with which he wrought out his own. God honoured him, both in the regiment and, it is hoped, out of it, to bring not a few, not only under instruction, but to render that and his example effectual for the salvation of some of them. The state of his mind may in some degree be judged of, by the following extracts from the preamble and conclusion of his last will and testament, dated on 3d July, 1816:

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"I, John Gordon, impressed with the awfulness of the uncertainty of human life, at all times, but more particularly in this quarter of the globe, will thank the Major of the regiment to consider these few lines as my last will and testament, with regard to my effects in the West-Indies. Should it please God to call upon me suddenly, to appear before him as my Judge and Creator, I desire to plead for mercy, for my manifold sins and daily transgressions, through the blood and righteousness of him who, though without sin, became sin for us, that we might be clothed with his imputed righteousness; and thus committing myself to him, who is able to keep to the last that which is intrusted to him, I die in the hope of a joyful resurrection." "And now I have only to pray, that I may, through faith in Christ Jesus, leave a testimony behind me, that religion is no vain thing; and I pray that the kingdom of Christ may be advanced daily. I die in peace and goodwill towards all my dear brother officers, and if, in duty* or otherwise, from a zeal for the service, I

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have been hasty, I trust they will attribute it to the true cause. Above all, I recommend unanimity among all ranks; and I trust you may all prepare for this last scene which awaits all men."

(Signed) JOHN GORDON, Sen. Capt. Queen's.

Immediately before his attack with the fever in which he expired, he had, in his too great zeal for the service, exposed himself to the heat of the sun, and had undergone excessive fatigue. This, doubtless, predisposed him for the influence of the contagion, which attacked him on the 19th of December. Though attended by a surgeon, much attached to him for the truth's sake, of good professional talents and education, and regularly visited by the physician to the forces, and the inspectors of hospitals, he sunk under the fever on the 22d, at 3 A. M. "During the short period," says his friend, Mr. A. I. Ralph, assistant surgeon of the regiment, "in which he was confined to a sick bed, he manifested the calmest resignation, and informed his medical attendants on their first visit, with humble cheerfulness, that he was quite prepared for the event, whatever it might be. The sting of death had been taken away, and through our Lord Jesus Christ he bad obtained a victory over the grave. A confusion of intellect, not amounting to a total privation of reason, shortly appeared in the progress of the disease; and although rendered by it incapable of conversing, he appeared much refreshed by the prayers of a clergyman of the Establishment, who visited him.

On his dissolution appearing to be near at band, it was repeated by a friend, Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, for they rest from their labours.' He said, ' he would rather,' but could not utter another word. He gradually sunk, not appearing to be enduring much pain, and died with a placid smile on his countenance.

It would appear that God has selected from among us, those who are most meet for his kingdom, most ripe for glory, Gray and your dear brother. Adams, Bowden, and myself, have been dangerously ill with fever; but God has spared us, and by their deaths tells us to prepare to meet our God.'” "It was a gratification, in which I participated while following his dear remains, to behold the marked respect paid to his memory by every individual in the corps. He was a Christian indeed! and on no occasion (although we have buried nine officers) was there such a general feeling of estimation and of love, as in the present, and at the funeral of dear Gray."

I hope that a fuller account of those servants of God may yet be given to the public. The example of Christians, especially in such circumstances, is surely of great value and importance, who followed the Lord in earnest, and gave all diligence to the full assurance of hope unto the end. If their Christian friends are comforted by these proofs that they are ever with the Lord, they will surely be desirous of confirming others, of exciting those who may be slothful, and of awakening such as are asleep, or dead in trespasses and sins.

C. S. Edinburgh, March 15, 1817.

To the Editor of the Christian Observer. MUCH has been written in your pages, on the imagination, and on the nature and tendency of those literary works which appeal to it. If the following hasty remarks should appear to you worthy of insertion, they are at your service.

In treating of the imagination, there are some points which may be assumed, being generally admitted (at least as I hope) by all your readers; as, for example, first, that imagination is a distinct faculty of the mind, like the reasoning faculty, the understanding, and others; se

condly, that in common with all these other faculties, it was part of the original endowment with which the human mind was gifted at the creation; thirdly, that in common with all our other faculties, it was perverted at the fall; and, fourthly, that the avowed plan of the Gospel, being to restore all things, not to abolish them, the imagination, as well as every other faculty of the mind, ought to be directed, not extirpated.

The question, therefore, is; To what use may it serve; and how may it be directed? This question indeed, even so limited, is beyond my present purpose; and I have only opened it in this way with a view to invite inquiry, and, if I might venture to hope for such an effect from my statement, to guide it to that point on which it may be most practically useful. A few cursory suggestions on this part of the subject, such as happen to occur to myself, will be all that I attempt in this paper.

One of the great uses to which the imagination seems capable of being applied, in our present state, is that of serving as a relief to the more continued exercise of our other faculties. When a student becomes fatigued with deep reasoning, patient investigation, close attention, or a considerable effort of memory, the mind requires relief; and that relief will be sought, if he is wise, not in total inaction, but in the exercise of a different faculty, which has not yet had any employment, just as walking is a relief to the rider, and riding to the walker. A similar relief is often found no less serviceable to a tradesman, or labourer, after a long and close attention to business, or under great bodily fatigue. There is also a third cause, which may perhaps be thought to require this relief still more absolutely; and that is, the distraction arising from a multiplicity of trifling concerns, which are apt to try the temper,

and operate unkindly upon the affections.

In all these cases, the mind becomes more or less jaded and harassed, and loses that elasticity which is necessary to fit it for ordinary enjoyments. But, in the last case, it is in danger of being still further perplexed, unhinged, and fretted, so as to be even deprived of all that relish and satisfaction which seems essential to a cheerful performance of duty.

It is surprising, under any of these circumstances, what relief is instantly found in the most trifling play of the imagination. The countenance, which may be regarded as the mind's index, brightens in a moment; the burden that oppressed it becomes light, and is forgotten; and the spirits recover that spring and tone, which impart to the several faculties of the mind their proper vigour and action.

Hence it is, that conversation with an old acquaintance, or upon old times, or any thing, in short, which draws off the mind from present objects, and carries it abroad, is felt to be strangely efficacious in promoting vivacity, and that too, perhaps, in some proportion to the previous depression; it being found, that persons enter into these recreations with more zest when they escape to them from severe employment than when they meet with them as matters of course. It is, in short, with the amusements of the mind, as with those of the body; we must be fitted for them by exertion.

The imagination, however, requires to be stimulated to such reasonable activity. The sight of old friends, or benefit of pleasing conversation, is not to be had at the exact times or in the exact measure that may be needful. But an amusing book is always at hand, and may be taken up or put down at pleasure, while its power over the mind, and the sweet oblivion which it induces, of the cares and troubles and vexations of life, is sufficiently

attested by the eagerness with which novels and romances of all kinds are read, even by many who join in condemning them.

This power of transporting us out of the sensible world, and enabling us to leave all its uneasiness and necessities behind us, constitutes the peculiar charm of works of fancy: for, as they

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The form of things unknown, we seem to be carried, as it were, into another creation. Things, that have long ceased to be, renew their existence; and things, that can never be, become both probable and real, while they are just so far removed from us as to be softened by distance, but not obscured by it, and while, though the pleasure that they awaken is not imaginary, the very pains which they occasion please.

Advantages like these, so well suited to a checkered scene of existence, are not to be lightly thrown away, especially since that which relieves fatigue in health, often makes us insensible to suffering in sickness, and disarms unavailing sorrow of its sting.

But in direct proportion to the power of any engine is the necessity to guard it from perversion: and if works of imagination enable us to " pass the flaming bounds of space and time," it is a matter of immeasurable importance to determine into what world they carry us. I know of no class of books which ought to be selected with more care, in forming a library for the nursery, or for young persons who have left it, than those which exercise the imagination. If they carry us into a world of increased sensuality, like the paradise of Mahomet, their effect must resemble that of stimulants in a fever; while, on the other hand, by introducing us to purer scenes and nobler enjoyments, they may add to their other recommendations the more powerful one of becoming

subsidiary to the influence of principle. There are many generous and noble feelings, far removed from the selfish motives by which the world at large is actuated, and for which common life does not provide sufficient excitement to keep them from languishing through inaction; and whatever tends to kindle and awaken these, and thus to create some taste for the loveliness of virtue, may have a more friendly influence, where the holier sanctions of religion are either wanting or feebly felt, than many a grave lesson, for which the heart has not been duly prepared. To keep all parts of the mind in successive action is essential, or at least eminently conducive, to its healthy condition; because our feelings, like spirited horses, are kept better under command, for being accustomed to gentle and regular exercise. It is thus familiarized with scenes of difficulty and with the conduct of the good and great, when exposed to them, before it is called to act under them. It contemplates perplexity at leisure, and danger without dismay; and, being filled with exalted and generous sentiment, is better disposed both to applaud generosity in others, and to practise it when occasion requires.

I purposely avoid applying these remarks to any particular works of poetry or romance; nor would I be understood to recommend an indiscriminate or incautious indulgence, even in the best entertainments of this description. Still less can I approve of the love scenes and sentimental anguish of many of our modern novels. In days of old, poets sang of different themes, and we might do well in this instance to recur to an obsolete model.

Cithara crinitus Jopas Personat aurata, docuit quæ maximus Atlas

Unde hominum genus, et pecudes, unde imber et ignes, Arcturum, pluviasque Hyadas, geminosque Triones.

CHRIST. OBSERV. No. 184.

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It should be observed, too, that the imagination may be exercised by other works besides works of fiction. Some portions of history, voyages, travels, and even didactic works, afford sufficient play to that lively faculty, if it has been properly regulated, to produce all the relief that is wanted; and they produce it better for not supplying any excessive stimulus ; for the problem to be solved, as it strikes me, is not what may most powerfully affect or stimulate the imagination, but what may most easily rouse it to moderate action, at the least expense of artificial excitement. C. C.

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To the Editor of the Christian Observer. THE following passage, which I have lately met with in "Sewel's History of Friends," appears so contradictory to the statements inserted in your Number for April, 1816, that I am induced to offer it your consideration, viz. :- -"George Keith, who now preached up and down where the bishops thought fit, went, by their order, to New-England, New-York, Pennsylvania, &c.; for it seems he imagined that in those parts he should get many adherents among the QUAKERS, but he came much short of his aim for even in Pennsylvania, where many of the BAPTISTS formerly sided with him, he was by them looked upon with disdain, and rejected for wearing a clergyman's gown; and now appearing to be a great apostate, there was no likelihood for him to get an entrance, or to be esteemed there," &c. &c.

Not only Sewel, but Clarkson, in his life of Penn, &c. represent the character of Mr. Keith in a very unfavourable light. Sewel particularly, in his second volume, relates his holding the sentiments of Francis Mercurius, Baron of Helmon, respecting the transmigration of souls.

I trust it will be in the power of some of your readers to elucidate 2 H

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