减 the day were even more remarkable than usual; but his respiration was greatly quickened, and he was not able to converse without frequent pauses. He sat down to dinner with a tolerable appetite. It was his custom after dinner to dose for an hour in his chair. While his parents were watching his slumber, he suddenly turned on them a look which seemed to bespeak their attention. He had long desired to make them acquainted with the state of his mind, but had perceived their inability to bear such communications. And they had avoided the subject, lest their feelings should hurry them into an agony of distress, and break the settled composure of his soul. Now, however, that he felt his hour to be at hand, he thought it unsuitable to his and their character, that he should leave the world without giving glory to God. Under this impression, he spoke with all his usual calmness to the following effect. "I have long known my disease to be dangerous; and now I perceive the danger to be very great; but I am resigned. I have hesitated to make you acquainted with my real state, lest I should add to the sufferings I have already brought upon you. But I think it unhappy, when a man is approaching death, that he or his friends should fear to make it the subject of conversation. To think and speak of death, is a duty even in health, as you have often taught me; and it becomes us not to shrink from it now. I see nothing in this state worth living for. I esteem it happy to be removed out of it at an early period of life. Much of my time has been spent in the study of languages, which are deemed important; but in heaven that labour will be known no more. There, as Bunyan observes, they all speak the language of Canaan. When I look back on my past life, I see nothing in it but what is sinful; and it seems incredible to me that a dying man should ever speak of himself as a harmless creature. I know myself to be a sinner; and I have not been even to you what you had reason to expect." His parents had permitted him to proceed without interruption; but at this last word, they fell on his neck and kissed him, with passionate assurances that he had been better to them than all their hopes. Till now he had preserved his serenity; but his tears and sobs could no longer be suppressed, and his frame was agitated with the tenderest emotions. In a short time, however, he wiped away the last tears he ever shed, and, resuming his composure, thus proceeded: "My complaint has been of long continuance; but I have reason to be thankful that it has not subjected me to acute pain. I owe it to the goodness of God, that I have been allowed the free use of my thoughts; and I rejoice especially in this, that they have been directed to subjects of inestimable worth. When I first took up Alleine's Alarm, I feared to find in myself all the marks of the unconverted. But though I was once under the dominion of some of those sins which are there enumerated, Alleine has taught me, both the need and advantage of a Saviour, and I am freed from their bondage." After reposing himself for a short space on the sofa, while his parents were endeavouring to recover their spirits, he attended them to the teatable, where two friends joined them, with whom he conversed with his usual composure. The evening was devoted partly to his favourite author, and partly to silent meditation; and the happy frame of his mind was to be discerned through his countenance. He would not have once noticed his weakness but in answer to the anx ious inquiries of his parents, to whom he confessed, that he now felt himself reduced to a very great degree of debility. He seemed desirous to avoid agitating them again by recurring to the subject which had lately occasioned so much emotion. When the evening hour of prayer arrived, they engaged for the last time in an act of family worship. Many affecting considerations operated on their hearts: a deep conviction of human frailty, and of their dependence on God; a thank. ful remembrance of past mercies; a soothing sense of present support; an enlarged view of the redemption that is in Christ Jesus; and an enlivening hope of future blessedness; all united to humble, melt, and animate them. He then partook of his evening repast with freedom and cheerfulness; receiving the attentions of his parents with great sweetness and benignity. His words, though few, were consolatory, and his smiles were so enlivening, that they were ready to interpret them into promises of prolonged life, when they were only the parting glances of a happy spirit. The Bible was lying open before Mr. Gilpin. As he turned over its pages, his attention was arrested by the seventh chapter of the Revelations. He repeated the concluding part of it aloud, ending with these words: "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb, that is in the midst of the throne, shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." This sublime passage produced a sort of electric shock on their spirits. They closed the book, and gazed on each other in holy ecstacy, and then involuntarily burst into an ascription of "blessing and honour, and glory, and power, unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever." It was now time to retire to rest. Having seen their son in bed, after the interchange of a few affectionate expressions, Mr. and Mrs. Gilpin left him to the care of his watchful nurse. After passing an hour in their own apartment, feebly endeavouring to stay their souls on God, and anxiously listening to every sound, they heard him cough. His mother immediately went down to visit him. After a few minutes, she returned to invite Mr. Gilpin to follow her. They found their pauently sinking under the last ef forts of his disease, with a counte nance full of peace and sweetnes. Their approach produced in him a slight emotion. But he had preceeded too far to return. His fa ther, joining his face to his, sofy inquired how he might yet minister to his comfort. He replied by a gentle request not to speak. Ther knelt about his bed in a state d trembling expectation. A shon and solemn pause succeeded; when, after a few soft groans, he peacefully breathed out his soul into the bosom of his Father and his God. "At this awful moment," obe serves Mr. Gilpin, "all the oppos tion of our will to the Divine pro ceedings was subdued, and we sunk under an overwhelming sense of Hs supremacy whose judgments are unsearchable, and whose ways are past finding out.' One desire alone possessed our hearts,-that we might be permitted at once to follow our beloved where mortality shall be swallowed up of life." On the morrow, Mr. Ireland's fa mily came to mourn with them, and comfort them. Mr. Ireland took on himself the arrangement of the funeral: nor was he satisfied till he had brought them under his own roof, where he adopted every means for the mitigation of their sorrow. On the following Sabbath, a funeral sermon was preached by the Rev. B. Simpson. To attend on this occasion they exerted all their resolution; but all was insuffi cient to prevent their sinking under the impression of his affecting and appropriate discourse. Mr. Ireland would have detained them with him during the winter, but this they declined; and, "after paying a sorrowful visit to the tomb of our beloved Joshua, we tore our selves away from the place of his burial, to the place of his birth; that where our joys had risen without limit, there our tears might flow without restraint." "It was the will of our adorable Lord," continues Mr. Gilpin, "that we should be employed in training A up an heir of salvation. Such an appointment was both happy and honourable; and it has occupied our most serious thoughts for eighteen years together." "And though our conduct has been defective in many particulars, we know not, had we our work to begin anew, that we could adopt a more promising course than that which we have so industriously pursued, which has been attended with such unexampled felicity, and crowned with such complete success. Our appointment is now withdrawn; our work is done; and our finished pupil is called away to shine in the court of his heavenly Father. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord."" To the Editor of the Christian Observer. HAVING lately been favoured with the perusal of the sermon of a late eminent American divine, the Rev. David Bostwick, minister of the presbyterian church at New-York, which was preached by him before the synod of that province, in May 1758, I was so much pleased with it as to be induced to frame an abstract of it, which I now send you; and which, as I understand the sermon is out of print, you may perhaps see it right to publish. The sermon is entitled, "Self disclaimed, and Christ exalted;" and the text is taken from the words of St. Paul, 2 Cor. iv. 5: "For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord." The subject, you will perceive, is important. It involves that fundamental, and in the present day much agitated, inquiry, what it is to preach the Gospel. It is calculated also to excite ministers to an anxious examination, not only of the agreement of their strain The above is a very brief and imperfect sketch of Mr. Gilpin's account of his son. It may serve, however, to make that interesting work better known, and more read. Man's original apostacy may be stated to consist in his departing from God, and retiring into himself as his ultimate end; and his depravity, to consist in an habitual disposition to put himself in the place of God, to love himself supremely, and to set himself up as the grand centre of all his thoughts, projects, and pursuits. In his first state, God was his desire and delight, his beginning and end, his ALL. But when sin entered his heart, it warped him from God to himself, so that fore, is become the ruling principle self is now ALL. Selfishness, therein fallen nature, and, like the main wheel in some grand machine, sets the whole world in motion. habitants of which are ever engaged We are in a busy world, the inin active pursuits. labouring for God as their end, or But are they for themselves? Does the merchant extend his speculations to the ends of the earth for God, or for himself? Is the soldier's brave defiance of danger and death for the honour of trious tradesman or mechanic, who God, or of himself? Does the indusrises early and late takes rest, la self? Does the man of superior rank bour ultimately for God, or for himdevote his wasting hours to the pursuits of ambition, or of what is called pleasure, in order to glorify God, what do men in general live for, or to gratify himself? In a word, and to what are their thoughts, words, and actions directed,―to God, or to themselves? Alas, how easy is it to see that it is self that rules kingdoms, governs families, carries on the business of the world; that chooses even the religion, and in fluences the whole conduct of men; that lies also at the root of all their sins, making and keeping them ungodly; and is in fact ungodliness itself! The object of the present paper, however, is to consider the operation of this selfish principle more particularly in reference to the clerical order, and the peculiar obligation which attaches to men of this class to resist and overcome it. Would that it could be said, that there is at least this one order of men exempt from the charge of selfishness; and that there are none in the sacred office of the ministry, who are influenced by mercenary or selfish views, and who cannot safely apply to themselves the language of the Apostle, "We preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord." Now the selfishness which the Apostle here disclaims, is clearly not that proper self-love which induces men to act with zeal and fidelity, from a view to future rewards and punishments-to the favour of God and the happiness of heaven. St. Paul kept under his body and brought it into subjection, lest, when he had preached to others, he himself should be a cast-away." Neither does it imply a disregard to character and reputation among men. Bishops are to be blameless, and of good report: and though, if men speak all manner of evil against them, falsely, for Christ's sake, they may rejoice therein; their endeavour ought to be, to make their light shine before men, and to have favour not only with God, but, as far as they conscientiously can, with all the people. The selfishness which the Apostle disclaims, is that which stands opposed to the honour of God, and the interest of Jesus Christ; which disposes us to love and value ourselves, as we ought to love and value God; to prefer our honour to his honour, and our interest to that of Jesus Christ. But so descend to particulars. 1. Ministers may be said to preach themselves instead of Christ, when their sermons are calculated rather to gratify men's curiosity, than to affect their hearts; to please their fancy, than to convert and save their souls; when they soothe and flatter men in their sins, rather the strive to awaken and alarm ther consciences; when they aim rather to win men to themselves than b Christ; when they tend to beget in the corrupt hearts of their hearer an esteem rather of their own per sons, gifts, and abilities, than of the person, glory, and offices of the great Redeemer. 2. Ministers, however, may frame their sermons so as to answer the great ends of preaching to others, and yet may preach themselves, at to the principle from which they act, and the end they have in view. It is not to be wondered at, that, at a time when zealous and practical preaching, and the most earnest ad dresses to the heart and conscience, serve to promote the popularity of 3 preacher, mere selfishness should in duce men to endeavour to excel in these respects. But however scripturally ministers may preach, as to the matter of their sermons, and with whatever apparent zeal and fervour they may deliver them; yet if they look chiefly to their own honour of interest, they will be found guilty of the criminal selfishness disclaimed by the Apostle. 3. When men of unsanctified hearts take upon them the office of the ministry, self must be their grand inducement; for though a faithful discharge of this trust requires more self-denial than any other, yet are there many things in the sacred office calculated to allure men of corrupt and selfish minds. A com fortable subsistence may tempt such as know not how better to provide for themselves. To such a subsistence every minister indeed is entitled; but when this forms his inducement, be acts from a regard to filthy lucre, and not to God. How can such apply to themselves the Apostle's language, "I seek not yours, but you?" The Opportunity of study may also be an en inducement for men of a speculative or literary turn to undertake the ministry. The supposed ease and indoJence of a minister's life may induce others to enter upon it. The reve rence and respect shewn to the clerical character may have their weight with some; and others may be wrought upon by a desire of popuJar applause. 『ང but not daring to do this, they fall on a thousand indirect methods to draw forth their commendation; because, if they miss that, they miss the grand prize of the day. And even if, besides this anxiety for applause, they desire success in awakening and converting sinners, yet selfishness may lie at the bottom of this too, though it may work differently. This principle may cause them to strive to excel in appearances of godliness, and in zealous, fervent, practical preaching, and to desire to affect and change the hearts of their hearers; and yet to advance their own reputation may be their real aim. What, indeed, can be more agreeable to a man greedy of applause, than to see multitudes thronging round him to hear him, and appearing to be affected with what they hear; to find that he is able to command their attention, and move their passions; and to know that he is extolled as an able and godly preacher, a man of high spiritual attainments, and successful labour? Sometimes, this disposition. will produce envious and bitter thoughts towards those who outshine them in these respects. They are vexed and mortified when a preference is given to others, and they are not so much noticed as their own partial selfish judgment tells them they ought to be. The same feeling makes men also tenacious of their own opinions, and impatient of contradiction. They esteem the person who will say as they say; but he who differs from them is not to be borne with. In short, it is impossible to trace out all the corrupt workings of this principle, or to mention the innumerable mischiefs it has occasioned in the church of God. It was this which kindled the flames of persecution, and stained the earth with blood; and it is this which rends Christian societies into different parties, and fills them with bitterness against each other. May the Lord deliver us from selfishness as our worst enemy! Now, when such considerations as these induce men to engage in the ministry, the dominion of a selfish principle is very evident; and the same principle is likely to attend and govern them in every branch of their ministerial conduct. It will go with them to their studies, choose their subject, form their sermons, and often make them more attentive to the words, than the matter, of their discourse. Hence, instead of plain and serious addresses, tending to melt and change the heart, we have trifling discussions, set off with rhetorical arts: or, instead of instruct ing their people in the great things which concern their everlasting welfare, they go beyond their capa city, and say nothing profitably or intelligibly. Thus, instead of considering seriously, "what shall I say, and how shall I say it, so as to glorify God and benefit the souls of men?" they consider, "what shall I say, and how shall I deliver it, so as to be thought an excellent preacher, and to be admired and applauded by all that hear me?" The same selfishness attends them to the pulpit, where all thingsmanner, gesture, tone, delivery-are calculated to please rather than to profit; to secure applause to themselves, rather than to secure to Christ an interest in the hearts of their hearers; and after the exhibition is over, makes them much more solicitous to know that they are admired, than that they have awakened and converted souls. So powerful, indeed, is this feeling in some, that they would be glad to ask their hearers in direct terms, whether they admire their labours; CHRIST. OBSERV. No. 119. Having thus considered what it is 4 T |